The Father Loves You

Much of the hurts we experience in relating to ourselves and others stem from our poor understanding of a father. Adam failed to demonstrate Father God's love to his children & for generations we have done the same. All of the best that an earthly father could ever offer to his children originated in God. Everything changes when we instil God's love into our families because it's the missing ingredient for the success of a family. In order to function well in relationships we need to understand God's Father-heart. God's passionate love focuses on family. His nature & essence is love & He wants us to experience that love. The passion of Christ was to introduce us to the Father & connect us with His love. Everything we desire in terms of loving relationships is found in Him.

Truck = 1 / Toyota

= 0 characterised 😜

Sometimes in life things happen that make you wonder how anything good can come from situations you may find yourself in. Then we reflect & realise how God's protected us through it all & that His grace is sufficient for us to deal with every card we're dealt if we would just learn to trust Him through it all. Instead of focusing on the challenges we need to change our perspective & see the opportunities for God's miracle working power to be revealed. Getting hit by a truck backing out of a driveway wasn't part of my planning when I left the church prayer meeting this morning but praise God except for my car & ego, no one was injured. I'm thinking the enemy didn't want our Fatherheart of God book study at 10am to happen because it's digging deep & dealing with some more buried issues I'd thought I'd dealt with. This was the 2nd week in a row I wasn't able to go but the other ladies decided not to continue without me. Now this to me is a classic illustration of the blessing of both. Truck = 1 / Toyota = 0 characterised 😜

I'm 1 in 4, 4 times.

As a matter of fact many doctors today don't even consider you pregnant unless you've reached 12 weeks. And yes, it's holding in the pain & anguish that eventually leads to depression that can ultimately destroy you. All 4 of mine were within the first 12 weeks. Only the 1st others knew about & the lack of support I received & people's invalidation of my pain, guilt & shame (yes, you do feel guilty & ashamed) caused me not to mention the others until many, many years later, but it's been a burden so heavy to bear alone & was part of the reason I eventually found myself in a pit of depression so deep that I no longer wanted to live. Talking about it brings it out in the open & removes the enemy's power to use it in accusations against you. The truth sets us free to overcome. However there is hope in Christ. He reached down into the pit to lift me out & give me a new life & renewed hope & can do the same for you. Today I pray for everyone walking on this path for healing & restoration in this area. I feel your pain & it wasn't your fault. Bring it to Him & allow Him to turn it into a testimony of His goodness & mercy. Call on Him & He will answer.

Identity Statement

And with these Identity Statements (created in Photoshop) my friend & I finished off our "Healing the Soul of a Woman" book study by Joyce Meyer Ministries. One of the biggest challenges in my life has been my lack of knowledge of my identity in Christ bringing with it a lack of self-confidence, feelings of inadequacy & fear of rejection. These statements are meant to help me transform my mind when I think of myself in any way other than what God's Word says about me. God has done some wondrous healing in our lives through this study. I must admit having an accountability partner was good because at times the questions were tough & would have been tempting to give up again if I did it alone like I did last year after chapter 1. Next term we start Father-heart of God by Floyd McClung.

Keep Calm, I Passed my Audition

Praise the Lord!!! I think I have finally overcome my audition anxiety. This one's taken a while after losing my voice when I was supposed to audition at the end of May & it was gone for about weeks. Obviously God wasn't finished with me yet & I needed to complete the Cleansing Stream to break the strongholds that have been on my life all these years. I will start out with events choir until they manage to get enough people for the Life North Campus. I might even consider joining the Life Central choir for their monthly practice. It will take some time, training & confidence building to eventually make it into the Sunday worship team. Did I mention that "King of My Heart" by Bethel Music was the most challenging song I've ever had to learn, not because of the difficulty but the enemy attacks? I have never in my life struggled so much memorising song lyrics & tune. This was also my first attempt at singing to a backing track. I tend to feel a little unsure when I'm singing all alone. This is me finally stepping into that vision the Lord gave me back in 1988 but life had taught me to believe I wasn't good enough. Now I've proved to myself that those were all lies to stop me from reaching my potential & walking in God's purpose for my life. Wish me luck as I take my first step trusting God who began the good work in me to complete it. Let the King of my heart Be the mountain where I run The fountain I drink from Oh, He is my song Let the King of my heart Be the shadow where I hide The ransom for my life Oh, He is my song 'Cause You are good You are good, oh oh You are good You are good, oh oh You are good You are good, oh oh You are good You are good, oh oh And let the King of my heart Be the wind inside my sails The anchor in the waves Oh oh, He is my song Let the King of my heart Be the fire inside my veins The echo of my days Oh oh, He is my song Let the King of my heart Be the wind inside my sails The anchor in the waves Oh oh, He is my song Let the King of my heart Be the fire inside my veins The echo of my days Oh, He is my song 'Cause You are good You are good, oh oh You are good You are good, oh oh You are good You are good, oh oh You are good You are good, oh oh You're never gonna let You're never gonna let me down And You're never gonna let You're never gonna let me down You're never gonna let You're never gonna let me down You're never gonna let You're never gonna let me down You're never gonna let You're never gonna let You're never gonna let me down You're never gonna let You're never gonna let me down You're never gonna let You're never gonna let me down Oh 'cause You are good You are good, oh oh 'Cause You are good You are good, oh oh 'Cause You are good You are good, oh oh You are good You are good, oh oh You're never gonna let You're never gonna let me down You're never gonna let You're never gonna let me down You're never gonna let You're never gonna let me down You're never gonna let You're never gonna let me down 'Cause You are good You are good, oh oh You are good You are good, oh oh

6 Months of Overcoming

Last year around this time Pastor Steven Furtick's sermons started popping up in my Facebook feed after I hit rock bottom in my life long struggle with depression & anxiety. It some stage I was binge watching sermons because it felt like God was speaking right at me with every sermon. He reached down into my pit of depression & suicidal thoughts & lifted me out. Today I've been depression free for 5 months. I have just completed the Cleansing stream & had generational soul ties, orphaned spirit, victimhood, bondages & other curses broken. I'm free at last & for the first time in my life I know that I know that He was there all along in those moments I felt lost & abandoned. The last 49 years have been preparation. Now I'm am all fired up to take His healing to the nations, bind their broken hearts with love & set the captives free.

Deliverance

In August 2018 I did a search for Christian choirs & found one at Northcross Church that didn't require me to be a member of the church because I had absolutely no intention to go to church because of previous hurt that prevented me from going to church for 11 years. All I needed, or so I thought was corporate worship. During our first Sunday morning performance in church, God was speaking & I felt myself drawn to find a church to call home & be planted in. In November my osteopath suggested I try Life, & finally, in January 2019 I walked into the doors at the North Campus & was met with an overwhelming feeling of being "home". That morning I re-dedicated my life to God & He put me on a path of recovery. I still spent a lot of time listening to online sermons and during the prayer of one of Sarah Jakes Roberts' sermons I felt the weight of depression being lifted off my chest. Even though deliverance was instant, remaining free & walking in victory over depression has been a daily process of spending time with God to renew my mind according to His Word. I spend a lot of time Bible journaling to keep the enemies lies under control. I have believed these lies for so long that it takes a daily effort to choose which voice I will be listening to. Changing my inner narrative has been my daily challenge but I am grateful that when I am weak, He proves His strength through me. I still fight off the natural reflex of self-isolation & often have to boot myself out the door for creative team & church. But without those activities I feel lost & defenceless. The enemy’s attacks never stop, but now I know that when I’m at my weakest, God carries me. I had spent most of my life struggling on & off with high functioning depression & anxiety due to complex PTSD caused by all these traumas. All my life I identified with guilt, shame & worthlessness well hidden behind fake smiles, workaholism, busyness & servanthood. I was convinced I was unlovable, worthless, after all my own brother had ignored me for 30 years & my mom & sister only knew my number when they wanted something. My need for love & acceptance drove me to do anything I could to be accepted & appreciated. My inability to set healthy boundaries left me vulnerable to exploitation by those who knew me only for what they could get from me. I would give until it hurt & seldom received anything back, which of course confirmed the lies I had come to believe about myself. I had sacrificed myself & everything I was meant to be on the altar of my need for acceptance instead of receiving & accepting my validation from the One who had created me. There are still many areas in my life where I need God's intervention to change the fruit of my sinful responses, but I am becoming more aware every day that God doesn't love me for what I do but for who I am & that I'm not condemned when I mess up. His grace is sufficient & He doesn't expect me to change to be accepted but He loves me too much to leave me the way I am & is constantly showing me areas where healing & restoration is required. He is walking with me through this furnace to burn off everything that is not of Him. I now call Life North home. It brings me great joy to sing in the choir, serve on the welcome team, attend weekly prayer meetings, serve in our Henderson Community Kitchen & last but not least host a small Creative Connect Group at my home on Friday mornings.

Farewell Greater Auckland Chorus

And on this high note I'm closing another chapter of my life & bid farewell to all the wonderful ladies at Greater Auckland Chorus who have been my sisterhood for the last 3 years. I don't believe in coincidence but God in His divine wisdom has brought me here to heal, learn, grow & prepare for His purpose to be fulfilled in my life. I had given up on a lifelong dream due to feelings of worthlessness but they have helped me realise & prove to myself that I'm good enough after all. Thank you for supporting me through my worst & helping me restore my confidence. It's been an honour & absolute pleasure singing with you. You rock!!! 🎼I'll be home for Christmas, you can count on me🎶🎵

The Performance Struggle

Will I Ever be Enough?🤔

All to often we've been raised to think that we're not enough. Who hasn't heard the phrase "you can do better than that" from a parent or teacher in their lifetime? When last has someone acknowledged & celebrated you for who you are & accepted you just as you are? From the day we're born society & mainstream media bombard us with messages of our imperfections, comparing us with others that are thinner, prettier, better than you. This sets unattainable goals to strive for which ultimately breaks down our confidence & sets us up for failure resulting in mental health issues drives us into the pit of despair because we spend our lives trying to be what we perceive people expect us to be in order to avoid rejection rather than just being our unique selves that God has created us to be. Performance is in itself hard work & keeping it up is draining even more so in our world of mounting pressures, but true freedom comes from being accepted & loved in spite of our all flaws. God loved us while we were still sinners. We are enough.

Bittersweet Endings

What a bittersweet end to my day today. I had my last chorus rehearsal with these awesome ladies from Greater Auckland Chorus. I joined 3 years ago as a distraction to my lifelong struggle with depression & anxiety. The weekly 3 hours singing sessions have been my lifeline through some of the toughest years of my life. The sisterhood & support was invaluable & will be sorely missed. Last year I hit rock bottom of despair & hopelessness. My world fell apart but 3 months ago God delivered me from the pit of depression and the next couple of Tuesdays will be filled with a Healing Course at church. I'm walking through a process of healing & restoration. It's great to be free, have my joy restored, sleep well at night & wake up with a song on my heart every morning. It's finally time to move on. Next month I'll join the LifeNZ North Campus Creative team where I trust I'll find my fit (worship lead / dance / drama / choir / whatever else is available) in pursuing God's purpose for my life. At Chorus the vocal training was phenomenal & I learnt I was good enough after all. I now have a new found confidence in my own abilities so bring on that audition I know I CAN do it! It's time to dust off my dreams, unite my joy for singing with my passion for worship & kick some enemy butt. I'm blessed to be a blessing & can't wait to see what God will do through me. 🎼Take My healing to the nations, bind their broken hearts with love🎶🎵 Thanks so much for everything Jocosa & team, you rock.😘

I Choose Forgiveness

A pure heart is like pure gold—soft, tender, and pliable. Hebrews 3:13 states that hearts are hardened through the deceitfulness of sin! If we do not deal with an offense, it will produce more fruit of sin, such as bitterness, anger, and resentment. This added substance hardens our hearts just as alloys harden gold. I will not be held prisoner by the enemy through my own unwillingness to rid my heart of anger and unforgiveness and by spewing out bitter waters rather than pure. Holy Spirit, keep me from hurt, deceit, and distortion because of darkened understanding and wrong conclusions about the intent of others to wrong me. Reveal my heart’s true condition, and do not allow hidden offense to clothe me with pride.

Made to Worship

3 years ago I joined chorus, suffering with severe depression & anxiety and I was nearing my breaking point. Singing has always been the 1 thing in my life that I was passionate about, but the first that was attacked in order to ultimately destroy my Even though I'm so grateful for Chorus that's helped me grow my confidence during the last 3 years so I can finally step out to reach for my lifelong dream. I started singing in the Northcross Church Choir on Mondays in August 2018 & have joined the Life NZ Creative Team which includes worship lead, choir, dance, drama, graphic design & more. I will also be getting involved in life groups & community activities. Having recently ben delivered from a lifetime of struggling with anxiety & depression, I'm excited to be able to finally become part of a church where people are our priority. As God's hands & feet we can bring delivery & healing to the nations.

Seasons Change

As I'm standing at the edge of yet another new chapter in my life, I'm so grateful that the grace of God is greater than all of my messes. I've spent most of my life in bondage to the invisible prison of my mind, believing all the lies of guilt, shame & worthlessness that people, experiences & society have taught me throughout my life. I have since learnt that I cannot change how people treat me, but I can choose to allow God to help me not to take offence but instead see the pain that causes them to do so, because hurting people hurt people. No matter how well we hide it, the brokenness inside has a way of spilling out onto others in anger & frustration, causing us to lash out & hurt others. Last year I hit rock bottom but God has graciously reached down to lift me from the pit of depression & brought me into His marvellous light. After all these years, I'm finally coming out of the wilderness & gearing up to move into His purpose for my life. One that up to now I've felt so overwhelmingly inadequate & unworthy of but now trust that God's power will be revealed through my weaknesses. I'm thankful that God uses broken people & pray that He will use this broken vessel to bring the love & healing I've received to those connected to me. So often we think He has left us. He is always there, and much like an umbrella we'll get wet if we step out from under it's covering. God is BIGGER than all our messes & nothing is beyond His healing power if only we would reach out to Him. Someone else's miracle may be on the other side of my obedience to God's calling.

Daddy Issues

All our relationships are built upon the very foundational relationship we have with our father. A broken relationship with your father results in relationship issues. If the foundation of your house is broken it will affect everything you try to build on it. We live in a fallen world where generations of emotionally wounded adults have raised emotionally wounded children. Everyone has daddy issues because our fathers are human, imperfect & flawed. But God can set us free with a Father Fix. Emotional healing, restoration & recovery is available to all who will allow Him to do it for them. WoW! I'm slowly beginning to understand my own reactions & why the enemy's attacks have been so fierce on my life. Feelings of rejection, abandonment, guilt, shame, worthlessness, never being good enough, anxiety, depression, anger, bitterness, resentment, insecurities fears, even those that have been buried so deep & not visible, that have haunted me since childhood, are being exposed as to where they're coming from & how they formed my reactions & behaviours through the years. I have spent decades searching for God's purpose & calling for my life & wondering why He's not using me yet. I've even questioned His presence in my life. I thought He'd left me. Today I realise that the vision God gave me 30+ years ago cannot come to fruition until I have dealt with all the baggage of my past experiences. I need to find my strength & identity in Christ, break away from what I've been taught to believe about myself all these years and be transformed to become more Christ-like in my thoughts & actions so I can stand strong on the Word & not waiver when the storms hit. I need to study to show myself approved unto God, a workman that need not be ashamed. 2 Timothy 2:15 I thank God that He has redeemed my life from the pit & crowned me with loving kindness and tender mercy. Psalm 103:4 He reached down into my deepest darkest hours & has delivered free from the depression that has plagued me for most of my life but I also realise now that in order to remain free for good, I have to work at exposing & dealing with all the baggage that has caused it in the first place lest the pit drags me back in because of buried issues. After all, God didn't promise me a trouble-free life. In fact John 16:33 says in this world we WILL have tribulation but we can be of good cheer because Christ has overcome the world. But God can set us free with a Father Fix. Emotional healing, restoration & recovery is available to all who will allow Him to do it for them. Even when your father & mother forsake you, He will adopt you. Psalm 27:10. I must let God release/heal/deliver/bring a new level of intentionality & strength to my relationships. I must allow my mind, will & emotions to be healed where it comes to the relationship soul. If I'm broken I contaminate the big dream thing God may bring. If I'm hurting I'll destroy it. If I'm messed up, I will end up forfeiting the great thing God has for me. The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the broken hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, Luke 4:18 KJV God has assigned us to the mountain so that we can show others that it can be moved. We will overcome by the blood of the lamb & the word of our testimony. Revelation 12:11 We need to learn to wear the full armour of God daily. Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God: Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance and supplication for all saints; Ephesians 6:10‭-‬18 KJV

He Sent His Word

Assignment from Chapter 2 of Healing the Soul of a Woman: Draw and image to symbolize how God's Word is medicine to your soul. Look at the image often and remember to take your medicine.

I've Hated this Woman

I’ve hated this woman. I’ve not loved her at full capacity. I’ve fed her lies & told her she wasn’t good enough and have allowed others to tell her she wasn't good enough. I’ve allowed her to be broken. I've allowed others to treat her disrespectfully. I’ve allowed her to run through brick walls & battle for others who won’t even stand for her. I couldn’t stop individuals from abandoning her, yet I’ve seen her get up and stand to be a light to the world & love others despite all. I have stood paralyzed by fear while she fought battles in her mind, heart and soul. This woman has screwed up many times as daughter, sister, mum, or as a friend, because she doesn’t always say or do the "right things". She has a smart mouth, and she has secrets. She has scars... because she has a history. Some people love this woman, some like her, and some people don't care for her at all. She has done good in her life. She has done bad in her life. She goes days without makeup, or shaving her legs sometimes. She doesn’t get dressed up half the time. She is random and sometimes silly. She will not pretend to be someone she is not. She is who she is. Every mistake, failure, trial, disappointment, success, joy, and achievement has made her the woman she is today. You can love her or not. But if she loves you, she will do it with her whole heart, and she will make no apologies for the way she is. 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉 This Woman is a WARRIOR. She’s not perfect but God calls her WORTHY! She’s UNSTOPPABLE. Gracefully broken but beautifully standing. She is loved. She is life. She is transformation. She is Grace. She is BRAVE! ❤❤❤❤❤❤

He Lifted me from the Pit

Loof die Heer met blye galme O my siel daar's ryke stof. Sal solank ek leef my psalmvrolik toewei aan Sy lof en Hom wat Sy guns my bied, altyd groot maak in my lied. Bless the Lord, oh my soul & all that is within me less His holy Name. 2017&8 tried to take me out but God has redeemed my soul from the pit of anxiety & depression. I live to see another birthday & new opportunities to fulfill God's purpose for my pain. This is my year of reset, upgrade & transformation. For 48 years I've been stuck in my own pain & insecurities but 2019 will be my year of breakthrough & spiritual growth. I'm backed by a God who loved me so much that He gave His Son to die on the cross that I may live. Thank you Jesus for restoring the joy of my salvation & letting me wake up with a song on my heart again.

Beauty Rising Through the Breaking

When Pain Becomes the Potter’s Hands

2018 felt like a year of breaking and reshaping — a time when everything I thought was secure began to crack open. As I look back over these pages, I see not just the pain of what was lost, but the tender beginnings of what God was quietly restoring. I started the year angry, confused, and weary from the weight of betrayal and injustice. My words in “When Irresponsibility Wounds Innocence” and “Picking Up the Pieces” poured straight from the ache — the kind that burns through every layer of composure until all that’s left is truth. It wasn’t pretty, but it was honest. Somewhere between the grief and the outrage, I began to see how God meets us right there — in the mess, not after it’s cleaned up. Through the pain, I began to recognise patterns — the Dominoes of Responsibility, the Domino Effect of Denial. I realised that healing starts not when others change, but when I own my part, however small, and let the Holy Spirit soften what’s become hard in me. Then came the miracle I never expected — The Gift of Reconciliation. After thirty years of prayer, the message I had longed for arrived, reopening a door I had assumed was sealed forever. It reminded me that God’s timing isn’t delayed; it’s deliberate. He had been preparing both hearts for that moment. In The Woman at the Well, I saw myself — the one who had spent a lifetime trying to be what others wanted, too afraid to show the real, broken me. Yet there He was, Jesus, waiting at my own well, offering living water to the parts of me that had run dry. Loneliness lingered in The Ache of Distance, and the longing to reconnect with myself deepened in Journal Reflection 2018. But through it all, God was gently stirring the embers of hope. My prayer in Sparks into Flame captured it perfectly: a simple cry for my tiny sparks to grow into fire again. 📖 “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” — Psalm 147:3 (NKJV) Looking back now, I see 2018 as the year the Potter’s hands took hold of the shattered clay of my life. The breaking was not the end — it was the beginning of becoming whole. Each crack He filled with gold, turning what felt like ruins into something precious, radiant, and redemptive. What I thought was the end of my story was really the start of Healing 💔heARTs💖 — a calling born out of my own restoration. The beauty that rose from those ashes became the foundation for every painting, every journal, every gathering since. It was the year I stopped hiding my cracks and started seeing them as places where His light shines through. 🤲🏻 My Prayer Lord, thank You for being the Potter who never gives up on His clay. Thank You for holding me steady when I felt undone, for binding my wounds with Your grace, and for turning my pain into purpose. May every golden seam tell the story of Your faithfulness. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

The Woman at the Well

God is good all the time. Today I identified myself with the woman at the well. Having lived with rejection & abandonment all my life, I have learnt to shut people out. Childhood emotional neglect as well as other traumas during my life have resulted in my lifelong struggle with anxiety & depression. This of course brought on feelings of shame, guilt & inadequacy which cause me to withdraw into myself & thus worsening the feelings of rejection & abandonment because people don't see the real broken me & I in turn think they don't care. I still struggle to grasp the Lord's "father" heart & love for me because I didn't have a loving earthly father. I shy away from relationships because I've spent a lifetime doing for others & being who I thought the wanted me to be so they wouldn't leave (which they did anyway) rather than being who God created me to be. Feelings I battle with daily include, inadequacy, insecurity, abandonment, guilt, shame, anxiety, lack of confidence & trust issues. Even worse, I have also shut God out. He has just recently redeemed my life from the pit & I am still struggling to work through all the emotional traumas of my life. Even though I can praise & worship Him now & I listen to sermons on my morning walks, I still struggle with building a relationship because I find myself at a loss of words when needing to express what's in my heart. I know He knows my heart, but sometimes it feels that I don't even know my own. There's an emptiness deep down in our gut that only God can fill through a healthy, thriving relationship with Christ himself.

Reflection on Jesse's 21st Birthday

A Mother’s Reflection at the Crossroads of Change

Here we stand — on the edge of something new, something unknown. It feels like only yesterday I held a tiny bundle of warmth and wonder in my arms, and now... 21 years have passed. That bundle of joy, all grown up now, standing tall, finding his wings and preparing to fly. I had dreamed about this day for years — imagined a celebration so full of light and laughter it would echo in his heart forever. A grand send-off into adulthood. I wanted everything to be perfect for him. And yet, when the day arrived, I was overwhelmed by something I hadn’t expected: sorrow. A deep ache that whispered, "You’ve missed too much."

Celebrating 21

Jesse's Batman Party

Here we stand at the dawning of a new era in our lives. 21 years ago we were blessed with a bundle of joy. That precious bundle now all grown up & spreading his wings. I've planned this special send-off into adulthood for so many years and now that it has arrived, I'm feeling overwhelmed. It was supposed to be the most joyous & spectacular event he could have dreamed of but instead the last years have happened & it feels like I have lost my boy...  If there's one thing I've realised lately is that in so many ways I have failed my boys over the years. My own lack of guidance & examples had left me ill equipped to prevent the scars of emotional neglect they too now carry. Hurt people, hurt people & I was hurting so bad I buried myself in work for the most important years of their lives. I loved them with every fibre of my being but emotionally I was unavailable.  Hell I still don't know how to handle all this emotional stuff. That is time I will never get back & scars they will carry for a lifetime. I wish I could have a do-over. I would change so much but all that remains for me is to ask forgiveness & pray that they will heal in time. I pray that they will find love & happiness and be ok. May they always find their ways back home if ever they meed us...

The Breaking That Saved Me

God Met Me in the Fallout

In October 2016 we took in our eldest's 18-year-old girlfriend & her 4-month-old son into our home straight from hospital because she was in so much pain & incapable of taking care of herself or her son. I loved them without boundaries like my own but was ill-equipped for the emotional rollercoaster & personal trigger moments that would follow. I was constantly worrying about the children’s safety. Over the following years, the kids' shenanigans, which I experienced as total disrespect & lack of consideration & appreciation for us would trigger many of my buried emotions & set me off on an emotional rollercoaster of note. The biggest one came when baby Sean's biological dad came on the scene 2 years after abandoning her for not aborting the baby & she insisted he should be involved. I cannot explain the anger that welled up inside me. This started causing issues for my son & subsequently total turmoil for the whole family. It seemed my family was falling apart & that would spiral me into the deepest, darkest pit of depression, anxiety & suicidal thoughts to the extent that I hit an absolute "rock bottom" & had a complete breakdown in July 2017. I was fortunate to find a very compassionate doctor who focuses on the wholistic approach to recovery & spent the next year on anti a very mild depressant just to take the edge of the extreme highs & lows I was experiencing. I also started with weekly, then bi-weekly & then monthly visits to the doctor for check-ups & to talk me through the emotions. One morning in October, I woke up to a WhattsApp message from my brother. For 30 years I had prayed for this relationship to be restored but I had finally given up. His first contact sent me spinning into a rage of anxiety. He had returned to the Lord 5 years prior & was reaching out to make amends & check if I was still serving God. I was afraid to trust or reconcile for fear that it wouldn’t last, but finally decided to tell him everything & where I was at. After I told him everything I had been dealing with & that I had given up on everything including life, he revealed the reason he messaged me was that I had appeared to him in a dream that night. I had stopped by his work & brought him a little girl, he knows personally, that had been molested & pleading him to please help her. There is no doubt in my mind that this was a divine intervention of God to pull me out of the pit. Stefan has been my constant support ever since & still messages me daily even if it’s just a quick hello. During this time Pastor Steven Furtick’s sermon started popping up on your feed. At the time he was doing the "Triggered" series, along theme of triggers, issues with anxiety & where are the outbursts coming from. Instead of mind numbingly scrolling through Facebook, I found myself binge watching sermons. God was working on my heart & I started to develop an immense desire to worship again. Suddenly Sean’s dad wanted to be involved in his life. Clive agreed he could come visit him at our home, but every time I saw him I was confronted by the anger of him wanting to abort this precious baby, but for the sake of mom & baby had to be nice & tolerate his visits. This was causing inner turmoil & by end of February 2018 the family turmoil had escalated to the extent that I totally snapped one night after the kids had a fight. I phoned my brother in such hysteria because I had totally lost it that he immediately planned a trip & came to visit for 2 weeks in April to help me through my crisis. I had gone from having a house filled with young adults that I had "adopted" as my own to an empty home with just hubby & our youngest. The loss was immense & strengthened my sense of worthlessness. To this day, I still miss all these extra children.

Beauty from the Broken Places

A year of unravelling pain, rediscovering faith, and learning to breathe aga

As I look back on 2017, I see a mosaic of tears and tenderness, struggle and surrender. It was the year my soul cracked open — the year I stopped pretending I was fine and began the long, trembling walk toward healing. There were days when anxiety felt like a cage around my chest and nights when sleep hid far from reach. I wrote through the ache — raw, unfiltered, searching for God in the fog. In those quiet, tear-stained hours, His mercy met me again and again. 📖 "He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." — Psalm 147:3 (NKJV) Through depression, rejection, and the sharp sting of betrayal, the Lord was gently restoring what life had fractured. I began to write honestly — about exhaustion that sleep couldn’t cure, about the loneliness that can exist even in a crowded house, about the longing to be seen and loved without having to perform. My journals became altars — places where I laid down fear, shame, and self-condemnation. Through every entry, God whispered: “You are not alone, beloved. I am still here.” 💗 Lessons in the Light 2017 was the year I learned that healing is not linear. It comes in waves — some tender, some fierce — washing away layers of pain until truth can breathe again. • Faith & Spirituality became my lifeline. When I couldn’t see a way forward, faith carried me — a thread of light through the darkness. • Love & Compassion deepened as I realised how desperately the hurting need gentleness. • Family & Relationships were tested and refined. The ache of fractured connections taught me to forgive and to keep loving, even when love costs. • Service & Kindness became healing in motion — helping others even as I was learning to stand again. • Creativity re-emerged as therapy. Through mixed-media art and digital scrapbooking, I discovered beauty in broken textures, colour in sorrow’s shadows. 📖 "For we walk by faith, not by sight." — 2 Corinthians 5:7 (NKJV) Each brushstroke, each word, became an act of worship — a quiet rebellion against despair. ✨ A Heart Reawakened By December, I realised that though much had been lost, something far more precious had been found — hope. Not the naïve hope that everything would suddenly be easy, but the sacred knowing that even pain has purpose when surrendered to God’s hands. Faith was no longer a distant concept; it became breath itself. Creativity, once buried under fear and fatigue, became a divine dialogue — my way of speaking back to the One who had never stopped listening. 📖 "We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair." — 2 Corinthians 4:8 (NKJV) 2017 taught me to rise — not as I once was, but as someone softer, wiser, and anchored in grace. 🙏 Prayer of Gratitude Lord Jesus, Thank You for the gift of survival, for teaching me that even when my strength fails, Your grace remains. Thank You for the courage to face my brokenness and for turning pain into purpose. May every word I write and every colour I paint bring healing — first to my own heart, and then to others walking a similar road. In Jesus’ Name, Amen. 🌸 Closing Thought The cracks in my story are no longer symbols of shame; they are golden seams of grace. What the enemy meant for harm, God is already weaving into beauty. Healing begins where honesty meets hope.

Soar like an Eagle

God's Message in the Sky

One morning I was sitting on the swing in the park at Schnapper Rock, numbscrolling through Facebook. I had hit rock-bottom but suddenly this photo my friend, Wendy had taken appeared on my feed & I heard the Lord say "You will soar like an eagle because My love will carry you through this pain."

Drunken Promises and Consequences

The Weight of Being Needed: Finding healing when you're the one who always holds it together

In their drunken stupor, they suddenly realise I might not make it. That I might not want to stay. And so, they beg — Please don’t leave us. We can’t live without you. And I wonder… Why? Is it because they need someone to pick up the shattered pieces they leave in their wake? Someone to cook and clean, to do the quiet, thankless work of holding things together? Is it because someone has to put their drunk, heavy bodies to bed while the baby cries in the next room, hungry for something — anything — that feels safe? If I disappear, who will carry the weight? But the thing is — when the alcohol wears off, so does their memory. Their sorrow, their promises, their pleas… all vanish like mist. The damage they’ve done becomes a distant blur in their minds. But not for me. No, I carry it all. I hold the aftermath. I cradle the consequences in my arms like a child — weeks, months, sometimes years later. The bruises on my spirit linger long after their hangovers fade.

Morning Cuddles and Mother's Day Shadows

— a reflection on love, loss, and the ache of letting go

I still treasure those morning family cuddles — no matter how big they get. Arms tangled together, soft breathing in the early hush, a quiet that feels sacred. Just a pity they’re so few and far between these days. Life moves, children grow, and those simple, golden moments become memories we hold onto with everything we’ve got. Today was another beautiful Mother’s Day. Truly. I felt loved, seen, celebrated. But as night falls and the world quiets down, a familiar mist rises — memories and pain I’ve long kept buried stirring softly in the dark. It’s bittersweet, this day. Full of joy, yes, but laced with sorrow too. Because even as I smile, my heart remembers. The older I get, the more I realise: I will never forget the babies I lost. Four of them. Precious lives that flickered briefly and then were gone. Miscarriage isn’t something you get over — it’s something you learn to carry. The ache may dull, but the love never fades. Maybe one day, I’ll stop blaming myself. Maybe I’ll grow stronger and find the courage to walk alongside others in their grief. Maybe, with time, I’ll be able to say it out loud — that I’m a proud mom of six. Even if only two are still here with me. Tonight, my heart is also heavy for a different kind of loss — the slow drifting of one child’s heart away from mine. It’s a grief that’s hard to name, because he’s still here, just not... here. I don’t know how to reach him. I don’t know how to bring him back into the fold. I only know that I love him fiercely and endlessly and that I’m not ready to give up. If you’re reading this and feeling the weight of your own silent sorrow — I feel your pain. I see you. And I believe healing is still possible, even when the night feels long.

Twenty-One Years Later — and it Still Hurts

A quiet anniversary of invisible loss

I couldn’t sleep again last night. There’s a heaviness that visits me around this time every year — a silent weight that presses down on my chest and lingers, no matter how many years have passed. Today marks twenty-one years since I lost my baby to an ectopic pregnancy. Just over six weeks along. My second of four miscarriages. And it still hurts like hell. I know, some might think I should be over it by now. I’ve heard the dismissive comments — “It was barely a pregnancy,” or “At least it was early.” Words meant to comfort, maybe, but they only deepened the silence I locked myself into. I bottled it all up because that’s what seemed expected. Because my grief made others uncomfortable. Because I even blamed myself. But grief doesn't follow rules or timelines. And there’s no expiration date on love. I find myself wishing I could just get over it — whatever that means. But the truth is, this loss carved out a space in me that still aches. The memory doesn’t fade. It lives quietly inside me, rising up like a tide I can’t hold back, especially on days like this. Yes, I’m a mother to two incredible rainbow babies — now 20 and 14 — and I thank God for them every day. They are joy in human form, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. But their presence doesn’t erase the ones I never got to hold. Grief and gratitude aren’t enemies. They sit side by side in this heart of mine, each telling a different kind of truth. So here I am, twenty-one years later, still navigating the waves of loss. Still learning to let myself feel. To not apologise for the tears that come uninvited. To honour the small life that changed mine forever, even if the world never got to see their face.

A Letter to My Rainbow Baby

Honouring the One we Lost, Cherishing the One we Hold.

This letter is a whisper from my heart — a love song to the baby I carry now, and a tribute to the baby we had to let go. It’s about the ache of remembering and the beauty of beginning again. For any parent who’s walked through loss and found hope on the other side, I pray these words bring comfort, connection, and the reminder that love never forgets. This is for every child who came before and every child who came after — each one held in our hearts forever.Would you like me to help format it directly onto your website or pair it with a painting from your collection?

Becoming Whole Again

A year of healing, rediscovery, and grace in the quiet spaces between heartbreak and hope.

The year 2016 unfolded like a tapestry woven with both storm and stillness. Each thread carried traces of pain and beauty, loss and awakening — and somehow, through it all, grace stitched me back together. This was the year I began to reclaim my wholeness. It was not with grand gestures or visible triumphs, but through the small, sacred choices of each day — to breathe again, to create again, to believe again. In many ways, 2016 became a bridge between the woman I once was and the one I was becoming. I remember moments of deep weariness, when my body and mind cried for rest. Yet, in those valleys, God whispered life into weary bones. I began to understand that strength isn’t always about doing more; sometimes it is the courage to stop, to surrender, and to let the Holy Spirit do the mending. There were quiet victories, too — rediscovering creativity as a form of prayer, learning to see beauty in brokenness, and allowing forgiveness to soften what once felt like stone. Family bonds were tested, but love endured. Relationships deepened, and slowly, compassion began to replace bitterness. I saw how every challenge was shaping me into a truer reflection of Christ — teaching me to serve without expectation, to love without fear, and to hope without visible proof. 📖 “For we walk by faith, not by sight.” — 2 Corinthians 5:7 (NKJV) Faith became my anchor again — not as a concept, but as a living, breathing presence. My home grew quieter, yet richer with meaning. My heart grew softer, yet stronger. Through tears and tender prayers, I rediscovered the power of authenticity — to be real before God and gentle with myself. By year’s end, I could sense the slow, sacred restoration of joy. My creative spark, once dimmed, flickered to life. I realised that what I had lost was not gone forever — it was being refined, purified, and prepared for something new. Reflections from the Core 2016 mirrored your Core Values — the living roots of your soul: • Faith & Spirituality: Your anchor through transition and pain. • Love & Compassion: Learning to love without losing yourself. • Family & Relationships: Mending and strengthening the bonds that matter most. • Service & Kindness: Serving quietly, even when unseen. • Creativity: Healing through colour, texture, and imagination — a foretaste of the artist emerging in you. • Balance & Rest: Learning that rest is holy, not indulgent. • Courage & Freedom: Choosing truth and authenticity, even when it costs comfort. Each value was tested, refined, and re-rooted deeper in Christ. Prayer for the Year Ahead Father, thank You for carrying me through this year of gentle rebuilding. Thank You for teaching me that brokenness is not the end but the beginning of beauty. May I enter the next season with renewed courage, grace, and faith — trusting Your timing and resting in Your love. May every brushstroke, every word, every act of kindness reflect Your heart. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Mothering Young Adults

When "adopting" Young Adults brings Pain

When we "adopted" a friend’s 22-year-old as a son into our home in September 2014 because he’d run out of money to pay rent whilst studying. Unfortunately, we didn't foresee the influence he would have on our on sons then 17 & 13. My eldest's 18th birthday & subsequent exposure to alcohol & desire for freedom pulling him away from the family would be the first of many to trigger my childhood experiences with drunkards & fears for his safety. The boys would go out at night & often not come home without telling me they were sleeping out. This would send me off in a tangent because I’d stress about how they could be lying somewhere in a ditch having had an accident or something & I wouldn’t know where to even start looking for them. My inability to communicate my experiences & fears effectively, caused me to lash out in anger & frustration, sending the kids running away. I started to feel my family crumble & all my hopes & dreams for my boys & our future were slowly fading away.

My Cup Is Overflowing

... but not in a good way.

Today I reached breaking point. Not the dramatic, scream-at-the-sky kind. No, it was quieter than that. Just a slow, silent overflow — like a cup that’s been filled for years and years, unnoticed, until suddenly it's spilling over everything. Dorothy asked if I was okay. And for the first time in a long while, I didn’t say “I’m fine.” I told her the truth: No. Meltdown. She gently probed — not in a way that felt invasive, but in the way someone who truly sees you does. “Can you pinpoint it?” And there it was — not one thing, but all the things. Years of bottling up. Stress about my adult children. Worries that feel too big for my tired heart. The ache of giving endlessly without anyone noticing that I, too, am bleeding. My cup isn’t just full. It’s overflowing. Not with joy or abundance, but with the weight of what I’ve held in for too long. I told her how I’ve struggled — how I’ve asked God to heal the deep wounds from my childhood. But I still wrestle with rejection. With feeling worthless. And then the guilt — oh, the guilt — for even feeling that way. Dorothy reminded me of something I know in my head but often forget in my heart: that God’s love is not earned. That He sees me, accepts me, loves me — as I am. Not because I’ve “held it all together” or kept giving when I was running on empty. Not because I’ve survived trauma or kept smiling through pain. But simply because I am His. Still, I admitted the truth that haunts me: I’m tired of doing this alone. I feel like a used-up orange — squeezed dry. I’ve been there for so many, but when my world falls apart, there’s no one. No family, no friends who check in. Just silence. I told her about the teenage trauma no one acknowledged. The miscarriages I had to mourn on my own. The way I was taught — literally — to hide my tears. My mother pushing my head under cold water when I cried, as if sorrow were a stain to scrub away. No wonder I learned to swallow my pain. But lately, it feels like it’s all rising up — like grief doesn’t care about timing. I want to sit in a corner and never stop crying. And yet I don’t. Because the inner voice echoes — “don’t be weak,” “you’re too much,” “no one will catch you if you fall.” And I keep wondering why I feel so unsupported. Why I keep building walls. Maybe it’s because I’ve learned that vulnerability too often ends in abandonment. I also shared about the church. How, after my gran’s death and the deep depression that followed, there was no support from leadership — even after years of faithful service. That betrayal felt like another layer of grief. Another space where I gave and gave… and left emptier than before. I’m learning that grief doesn’t always look like sobbing — sometimes it looks like silence. Like numbness. Like feeling nothing at all. Or like whispering to God in the night, “Are You still there?” Dorothy said something that made me pause — “Go cry before the Lord.” So maybe I will. Not with eloquent prayers or brave words. Just tears. Just presence. Maybe that’s enough for now. Because today, even if I feel empty and unseen, I want to remember: God collects every tear. And He knows how to hold what no one else has ever held.

The Spin Cycle of Life

Holding It All Together While Falling Apart

My washing machine broke down this week — a small thing in the grand scheme, perhaps, but one that quickly becomes a big deal when laundry piles up like an avalanche waiting to happen. So today, I found myself at the laundromat, quarters clinking and strangers folding clothes around me. Funny how it's on days like these that you realise just what a blessing it is to have a working machine at home. That gentle hum in the background — once so easily ignored — suddenly feels like the sound of grace itself. Needless to say, I’ll be more than a little relieved when it's back up and running. This evening brought a bright spot — pizza and pudding shared with Carrie and Hugh. It was good to laugh, to talk, to remember what it feels like to belong. But even as we caught up, I felt that tug. Time flies, doesn’t it? And with it, the little rituals that once grounded me — like my morning walks with Carrie. I miss those meandering chats, the ones where I could speak freely about things that my boys simply wouldn’t understand, not because they don’t care, but because they see the world through a different lens. Lately, I’ve been feeling completely out of step — disconnected, weighed down, even depressed. And yet I can’t quite seem to let the feelings out. What I long for is a good, honest cry — the kind that unclogs the soul. But instead, I find myself swallowing it back, again and again, until it builds like steam in a kettle. One day, I fear, I might just boil over. There’s a memory that haunts me — one I wish I could forget. I was just a child, crying in a moment of helplessness, and my mother, impatient with my tears, shoved my head under cold water to silence them. That moment etched itself into my nervous system. Even now, long after she’s gone, I still hesitate to let myself cry. Somewhere deep down, I still fear that showing emotion — especially in front of others — might invite rejection or disapproval. And then there’s Jesse. This weekend he didn’t come home from a friend’s place — didn’t even let me know he wouldn’t. I try to remind myself he’s growing up, making his own choices. But worry has a way of clawing its way in when silence stretches too long. Clive, of course, takes a different stance. “He’s an adult,” he says. “You’ve got to let him go.” As if it’s that easy. As if letting go doesn’t feel like tearing off a part of your own skin. We've gone back and forth on this so many times that I’ve lost count. And if I’m honest, I’m outnumbered here. The truth is, there are values in today’s world that simply don’t sit right with me — things that clash with the way I was raised, the way I see love and responsibility. That clash, that tension, has become the soundtrack of too many conversations lately. So instead of arguing, I bottle it up. I nod, stay quiet. But every now and then, the pressure wins. And I explode. I’m learning — slowly, painfully — that it’s okay to feel what I feel. That maybe the act of holding it all together isn’t always strength. Sometimes, the braver thing is simply allowing myself to fall apart in safe spaces, and trusting that the pieces will be met with love, not judgment.

When Caring Hurts More Than It Heals

Today, I really wish I didn’t care so deeply for people who seem so indifferent to my love. I wish I could just flick a switch and detach myself, protect my heart, and stop pouring so much of my emotional energy into those who don’t seem to notice — or worse, don’t seem to care. I spent the entire day tangled up in worry over Jesse. He didn’t come home last night. Then, when he said he’d be back by a certain time, that didn’t happen either. No explanation. No message. Just silence. Zane, of course, brushes it off — says Jesse is “very responsible,” especially compared to what he himself was like at that age. That’s fine and well for him to say. But it doesn’t still the storm inside me. It doesn’t quiet the fear, the tightness in my chest, the knot of anxiety that keeps growing. Jesse is just “enjoying his new-found freedom,” they say. But to me, it feels like watching someone dance at the edge of a cliff — oblivious to the danger, while I stand on the sidelines, holding my breath and bracing for the fall. And Clive? He’s no comfort either. “He’s an adult now,” he says. “You have to let him go.” But I beg to differ. Nineteen may be technically an adult, but it’s also dangerously close to reckless. So many life-altering mistakes can be made in moments of impulse. It terrifies me. Because I see the potential for a future derailed — not by malice, but by sheer youthful ignorance. And it breaks my heart that I seem to be the only one who feels the weight of that. Right now, I feel completely stretched thin — emotionally frayed and barely holding on. If I could, I’d crawl into some quiet, hidden corner, curl up into myself, and just cry until there was nothing left. But even that feels forbidden. That memory still lingers — the shame of it, the sting. Having my head shoved under cold water because I dared to cry. Because I dared to feel. That wound still hasn’t healed. So here I am. Full of unspoken rage. Frustration. Pain. Loneliness. I’m tired of always being the one who feels too much, while everyone else floats above the mess. I don’t want to be the strong one today. I just want to be seen. Heard. Held.

Greater Auckland Chorus

In February 2016 I joined Auckland Chorus to sing again & also to find something to do other than being home alone all day. It took me 6 tries at passing the audition because every time I had to audition anxiety would freak me out & set me up for failure. A massive inner conflict of needing to achieve & want to run away ensued. The 3 hours singing on Tuesdays would carry me through the week despite the social anxiety that I had to fight to get there. Many a day Clive literally booted me out the door to go. Singing enabled me for those 3 hours to switch off the thoughts that so constantly bombarded me. It got me through another week.

Threads of Becoming

Gathering the Golden Seams of a Year Woven by Grace

2015 was a year of becoming — not through grand achievements, but through a thousand small moments of surrender. Like a potter shaping clay, God’s hands worked gently yet firmly, pressing, refining, and moulding my heart. Each trial, tear, and triumph became part of His design, forming golden seams where I once saw only cracks. 📖 “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.” — Romans 8:28 (NKJV) This year taught me that healing is not linear; it ebbs and flows like the tide, sometimes drawing back to reveal deeper layers still needing light. I rediscovered my creative spark — the tender flicker of art, colour, and song that once lay buried under exhaustion and doubt. It became not only a refuge, but a way to reconnect with God’s breath within me — His Spirit whispering truth through brushes, textures, and words. Family, too, was both my soft place to land and my greatest classroom. The challenges within relationships revealed how love is not a feeling to be protected but a choice to be extended — even when misunderstood. Through every conflict and reconciliation, I learned more about the heart of Christ, who loves fully, forgives freely, and never gives up on His children. 📖 “Above all things have fervent love for one another, for ‘love will cover a multitude of sins.’” — 1 Peter 4:8 (NKJV) Community became an anchor this year — not crowds, but kindred souls who saw past the mask and reminded me that I wasn’t alone in the journey. I began to glimpse the ministry within my own story, realising that even pain, when surrendered to God, can become a wellspring of empathy for others. Faith deepened as I learned to rest rather than strive. There were moments when I could barely whisper a prayer, yet His presence met me in the silence. I began to understand that faith is not the absence of fear, but the courage to keep walking — even when the path is shrouded in mist. 📖 “For we walk by faith, not by sight.” — 2 Corinthians 5:7 (NKJV) As I look back, I see the fingerprints of grace on every page — in lessons learned through pain, in laughter shared over simple meals, and in the quiet assurance that I am being restored. What once felt like endings were, in truth, beginnings in disguise. The year’s tapestry is imperfect, yet stunningly sacred — every loose thread a reminder of His ongoing work in me. So I close this year with gratitude — for faith that anchors, love that stretches, creativity that heals, and courage that rises even from the ashes. 2015 may have been a year of breaking, but it was also the beginning of becoming whole. Prayer of Release Father, thank You for walking beside me through every storm and sunrise of this year. Teach me to carry forward the wisdom of each experience and to leave behind the weight of what no longer serves Your purpose. Fill my heart with renewed faith, creative joy, and grace for the journey ahead. May the coming year be marked by deeper healing and fuller surrender. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Mother’s Day Reflections

Healing the Ache of Motherhood Without a Mother

Today marks my first Mother’s Day on foreign soil, and somehow, I survived. The boys and I spent the day swimming at Parakai Springs, their laughter mingling with the soft splash of water echoing off the pools. For someone who internalises everything, being busy helps me forget—if only for a moment—the weight pressing on my heart. Yet, as I scrolled through social media, seeing radiant smiles of mothers and daughters celebrating together, a quiet sadness settled in. It reminded me once again of what I have missed all these years—not having that nurturing role model or mentor to show me how to mother well. I’ve spent countless nights crying, seeking wisdom in the silence, asking God if I’m doing this right. Will my boys one day understand the love that shaped my efforts, or will they only see my shortcomings? Today, joy and sorrow danced together. The excitement of the day faded, leaving behind a gentle ache—the awareness that while this day continues for my loved ones back home, I am oceans away, still finding my way in this foreign land. Yet even here, God’s grace finds me. He fills the gaps where earthly guidance was missing and teaches me daily how to mother from the well of His love. 📖 “As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you.” — Isaiah 66:13 (NKJV) I realise now that my heart’s longing for a mother’s tenderness has been met, not through perfect human example, but through the Holy Spirit’s constant, tender presence. He has been my Counsellor, Comforter, and Guide. Every tear sown in uncertainty is being transformed into something sacred—a testimony of His faithfulness. So tonight, though my heart feels tender, I rest knowing that love is enough. My imperfections are seen, my efforts are known, and God fills in every space I cannot reach. 🙌Prayer: Father, thank You for mothering me through every lonely season and teaching me how to love my children with Your heart. Heal the places in me that still ache from the absence of earthly nurture, and let Your presence be the balm that restores. Help me to rest in Your sufficiency and trust that my love, though imperfect, is enough in Your hands. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Migration

We had considered moving to Germany, but because we had taken up home-schooling our boys due to Misha’s learning struggles at school, that was no longer an option since home-schooling in Germany is illegal. Clive started looking at alternatives when our friends immigrated to New Zealand in 2012. Initially I didn’t want to move but over the next 2 years I became convinced there was nothing left for me in SA. Whether I’m all alone there or in NZ would make no difference, or so I told myself. I guess in a sense removed some of the guilt for not wanting to visit people who made me feel so inherently lonely & unloved.  In March 2014 we made our final decision, told the family & by end of July we bid them all farewell. Effectively nothing has changed. I still don’t hear from my sister unless I initiate. My dad has started phoning occasionally & my mom sends the odd WhattsApp.

To Be Educated

Our eldest, Jesse, has had a solid Grade R foundation because he graduated with Hettie & didn’t start off at private school like Misha. He seems to have coped quite well in private school & doesn’t have any learning problems, but we felt it impractical to leave one in school & home educate the other, so we gave him the choice to stay or come home. He eagerly chose to come home & I have noticed that school has killed his love for learning too, yet he was still getting good grades. Although he was achieving good results, he wasn’t reaching his full potential because his love for learning had been destroyed. Ever since the decision was made, both our boys have changed drastically. They have become much more loveable, relaxed & no longer fight on a daily basis. They actually get along much better & I find them play-wrestling almost on a daily basis. Although our home education journey was only meant to be for a season to get Misha up to standard, we have since decided that they will never ever be exposed to those “square environments” again… Our biggest challenge for now is how to repair the damage & restore their love for learning, so please if you have any tips/suggestions at all, please leave a comment.

Trixi's HomeEd Academy

We have a very active, yet highly intelligent 7 year old, who has been struggling through school for the past 2 years. It has recently come to our attention that his gross & fine motor skills foundation has not been addressed properly at a Gr. R level. He is also a kinaesthetic, visual spatial & active learner & this learning style is not catered for in most of our schools today. He hated school, was always tired & homework time was a major frustration for both of us. “A mother’s first duty to her children is to secure for them a quiet and growing time, a full six years of passive receptive life, the waking part of it for the most part spent out in the fresh air.” ~ Charlotte Mason And that’s where the “system” failed our little one quite miserably… Already in Grade R we called on Tannie Hettie to help, because by end of August, he still didn’t know his alphabet. Within 3 weeks with 1 hour at Hettie, twice a week, he knew half of it & by the end of the year he had it all. During this time hubby started suggesting home education, but I resisted because I just didn’t feel confident that I would be able to do it. I figured, I’d probably strangle him in a week because we were always frustrated & irritable when doing homework. But then in Grade 1 teacher insisted he needed speech therapy, so that’s what he got. But it didn’t end there, because speech therapy just caused more confusion. After 3 months the teacher figured we should switch him over to remedial lessons instead. During this time of course it was suggested that he does extra lessons. Needless to say, the remedial  lessons (at additional cost to us as parents) produced no results & extra lessons were just adding to his stress.  I went back to Hettie. Once again, he went to her twice a week for an hour after school. But the poor kid was so exhausted, by the time I got back to fetch him she’d mention he was just too tired to really work with, although she did still manage to produce results. At the end of Grade 1 we decided to cancel remedial as well as extra lessons & depended on Hettie entirely to help him. However, he was still tired after school & extra murals, so we reduced it to once a week, but instead of giving more work, she would work with him doing his homework so that he didn’t still have to do that when he got home. It helped a lot, but left little time for her to work with him on movement & motor skills. With a push & a shove, we managed to get him through grade 1,  but the struggle didn’t end there. He continued to go to Hettie once a week & was making good improvement, but whilst working with him doing his homework one day I noticed that he would “read” words on one page but wasn’t able to recognise them on another. That’s when we realised something was seriously wrong…He kept on insisting that teacher would read to them first & then they would read. What they didn’t realise though, was that he could memorise a page hearing it only once.  he became more & more fidgety in class. After my neck operation in June, hubby insisted we look into home education as an option, even if just for a short term to get him up to standard, thus I took the school holiday & started some serious investigation in to home education. After the holiday his teacher (a very highly qualified remedial teacher at that) once again requested that we to give him medication for his “lack of concentration”. Finally we decided to let Hettie stop working with him on his homework. I asked her to go back to the basics & find the problem. Turns out he couldn’t skip a skipping rope, tie his shoe laces or cross his midlines & he remembered nothing of what he should have learnt in Grade R. It seems the school focused too early & too much on academics & neglected the motor skills as well as visual perception. Midline crossing & skipping, being very important skills for fluent reading are just 2 of many areas that have not been addressed properly. Although he can memorise paragraphs, like a parrot, he struggles to read. He Aced his spelling tests but couldn’t spell them when writing sentences. These are just a few of the issues we’ve been working on together with his pre-school teacher to get him through Gr. 2. Up to now he’s been able to cope with his intelligence, but the struggling has impacted his self-esteem very negatively & caused him to dislike school with a passion & homework for us, became an endless battle. Although the school tried to address the problem with remedial & extra lessons, these showed very little success, but instead placed extra workload & repetition rather than addressing the foundation of the problem… hence we’ve took him back to Hettie Hen Playgroup twice a week since August last year so she could do physical activities & brain gym with him in order to get the brain development going. This has shown huge improvement, but his backlog is so big that he still gets very fidgety in class when he doesn’t understand the tasks at hand. We met with the principal to discuss the problem & check what they’d do to resolve it, but his reply was that they’d support us in whatever we decided. In the end the teacher was expecting myself & Hettie to work at resolving the foundational problems, in order for him to pass his grade. By then I was at the end of my tether. I think I hated homework time more than he did. Due to the amount of stress caused by school pressure, Hettie & I felt it would be more productive doing this if we removed him from school & this is were our journey in to home education began… “Every student can learn. Just not on the same day or in the same way.” ~ George Evans We know now that Misha’s just a normal active little boy who’s trying to cope with a situation that’s way beyond his control. We were just blessed with one of those “round kids” that doesn’t fit into the “square holes”, but refused to accept the labels, & instead, removed him from the “square hole” environment & since he’s been home his reading has improved although he still hates it. He’s getting A’s on his Smart Tutor English & Maths Lessons but absolutely hates filling out the worksheets. He’s a much happier & healthier child, but still has a very long way to go… & yes, three months later both of us are still very much alive, because the stress release on both sides has enabled me to be more patient & tolerable. We’ve recently registered him with Le-Amen Education Centre in Ruimsig & have pulled him out of school on Friday. What I like about Le-Amen is that they are registered with the Gauteng education department and they supply the curriculum at very reasonable prices. The kids’ work books have to be handed in 3 times a year to be monitored by qualified teachers & at the end of the school year they issue school reports to the children. Both parent & kids are monitored & at matric level they write the same IEB exams as the private schools. We used the first week to let him destress & deschool. In the interim he’ll be using Time4learning online curriculum to put the fun back into learning. Then we’ll continue his schooling, but will also have to go back as far as Gr. R in order to address his foundation. I just hope we caught it on time to repair the damage & that we will be able to help him reach his full potential in life. “Mothers write on the hearts of their children what the hand of time can’t erase.” (Unknown) When I look at the amount of kids in our schools that end up in remedial & extra lessons, I cannot help but wonder how many of them are highly intelligent kids, like Misha, whose foundations have been proved lacking & due to that will be struggling through school for the rest of their lives. I just cannot understand how it is possible in today’s day & age, with all the knowledge available to our teachers regarding the importance of physical activities being the foundation to develop brain functions in our little ones that they still let them sit cooped up in classrooms with academics all day at such a young age. Our little ones should be playing more & learning less, the academics will follow as soon as the body is sorted. I must confess, I’ve spent months stressing about Misha’s situation & was fuming, when the teacher’s plan to resolve this issue was aimed at Misha’s preschool teacher & myself addressing the foundation in order to get him through Gr. 2. As far as I was concerned, we pay expensive school fees & he shouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place. Today, however, I can honestly say the burden’s lifted & I have peace in my heart that we’ve made the right decision for our boys. “When we forgive someone, it doesn’t make them right or justify what they have done. It releases them into God’s hands so He can deal with them. Forgiveness is actually the best revenge because it not only sets us free from the person we forgive, but it sets us free to move into all God has for us.” ~ Stormie O’Martian The school & their staff have been forgiven. I’m letting go & we’re moving forward. I pray for wisdom to make the right decisions in order to continuously guide our sons into reaching their full potential.

Young Adulthood

I started my working career in June 1989. Both my “sisters” got jobs at Sanlam as well & we lived in Sanlam's hostel. However, Mams & Paps decided to move away & both Antoinette & Ronel decided to leave their jobs to join them. I was settled in my job & didn’t want to uproot myself again so I decided to stay. I had found a church, attended a home cell & had found a new family where I was loved & accepted "warts & all". All was well for a few years, after all I had received a prophesy that God would turn the hearts of the fathers to their children & that He would restore my family & was hanging on to that for dear life. After two failed engagements, I met & married my husband, Clive. I was utterly disappointed about dad & brother not attending our wedding. We were financially strained & took a transfer to Johannesburg in order to get area allowance to afford living. Then life happened, various new jobs, increased stress & crime in surrounding areas increased. Relationships with our Cape Town friends didn't withstand the test of distance. I was back at keeping up all the contact, never hearing from people if I didn’t initiate it & I started struggling with rejection, isolation & abandonment again. In 1996 I ended up in hospital due to an ectopic pregnancy after falling pregnant within weeks of starting a new job. This brought about some challenges because my superior was not happy that I had left the office unmanned when she attended a regional meeting together with the regional manager. She dismissed my issue as not significant because I had been barely 6 weeks pregnant. Once again depression returned & with that my first round of anti-depressants. My emotional turmoil was wreaking havoc with my ability to work well & I was constantly messing up & couldn't do anything right to the extent that she wanted to do a disciplinary. However, in November having totally mixed-up hormones I went to the gynaecologist to get help sorting those but found out that I was expecting again. Clive & I decided we weren't going to risk pregnancy with the work stress, so I resigned & started temping instead. After Jesse 3 more miscarriages followed but because of previous experiences I never told anyone that I was even pregnant. Even my pregnancy with Misha was also only revealed when I passed the 12-week mark for fear that we’d lose him before & then had to explain away the loss again. Another huge blow to my emotions was my little sister’s court wedding on her 18th birthday. Whilst I was at work mom sent me an SMS to notify me that she had just got married. Not being invited or even informed that they were planning to do this was a major disappointment because I wanted to arrange a kitchen tea & be there with her. My mom’s absence at my son’s births has also weighed heavy on me over the years. She didn't drive 70km to be there when I gave birth but flew in from Ireland to be there for the birth both of my sister's children. Another huge disappointment was our being church choir disbanded due to "a lack of commitment" in spite of  being there every week for every practice, service & event although I had a baby & was doing Bible College at the same time. My husband and I were cell leaders for 7 years, during which time we’d help support in many ways even financially those in our group that were struggling. Much of our financial debt was accumulated because we’d give till it hurt via our credit card. The first of few years of leadership we had a very supportive zone pastor who would visit & phone regularly as well as have regular leadership get togethers. But then he resigned & was replaced. Our new leader was in our home maybe twice in 4 years & the leadership get togethers dwindled away. Then when we needed emotional support when mother-in-law got cancer, everyone was gone & even the leadership faltered. I sent out a prayer request email, stating that if I as a Christian felt so unloved & unsupported in church, I could very well imagine how the unbelievers must look at the church. Instead of coming to our aid, our zone pastor phoned my husband telling him I’m unruly & he needed to control me better because that email was portraying him in a bad light. Once again I felt betrayed, rejected, and abandoned & stopped going to church. In 2007 we dealt with three deaths all by ourselves. Oma Else’s had the most impact & depression returned followed by suicidal thoughts. I felt so rejected & abandoned by our leadership that I turned away from Christianity & wanted nothing more to do with any of it. We resigned as home cell leaders & it took 3 weeks & an email including the senior pastor before our zone pastor even acknowledged our resignation. After that followed 3 major operations, twice in ICU for three days within 14 months starting in 2009 with absolutely no support, not even my family came to visit me in hospital & only received 1 visit afterwards whilst I spent 6 weeks recovering. We started reducing our visits to the family & unless we initiated it, we hardly heard from anyone. Of course, crime in our area was increasing steadily & with that came the constant concern about our family’s safety. I wouldn’t dare to drive at night & stuck to a strict 30km radius from home. I stopped watching the news & TV because I just couldn’t handle the trauma around what was happening around us anymore.

Heaven Breaks Through

A Testimony of Deliverance and Restoration

It was a Sunday evening service at The Lighthouse Christian Centre, in Parow and we had a guest speaker visiting from America — Pastor Mike Berry. I hadn’t expected anything particularly out of the ordinary, but God had something planned that would leave an imprint on my heart forever. I remember wearing a blue and white dress that evening, sitting toward the back—just quietly present. After the message, Pastor Mike paused, looked across the room, and pointed directly at me. “The lady in the back with the blue and white dress,” he said. Then he began to speak what I now know was a word straight from the heart of God.

Childhood

As a post abortion baby , with the spirit of death wrapped around me since conception, I was incubated in fear, shame & survival guilt. I was born believing I'm a mistake, I shouldn't be here, I have to earn my keep & prove myself worthy of love resulting in a lifelong struggle with depression & suicidal thoughts. I was raised in a Godless & emotionally neglectful home. My earliest childhood memory is hiding in the dark closet at maybe 4 years old whilst drunk parents were fighting crockery flying across the room. For years I doubted this specific memory until 3 years ago when my brother confirmed it was true. As a little child I would throw tantrums in order to get some attention from my parents, because to me being scolded was better than being ignored. I vividly remember having my head shoved under the cold water tap for crying hence I spent the rest of my life suppressing my tears. To add insult to injury, my mom once told me I wasn't planned. My brother often teased me endlessly until I got a hiding for screaming in frustration. I lost my grandparents & other relatives to migration when we immigrated to South Africa in October 1975. My parents never encouraged communication, so they became strangers we'd only see once more 4 years later. After that many more moves followed, I stopped counting at 30 by the time I was 20. This included 9 different primary schools & 3 high schools which included about 5 years of boarding school 3-4 hours away from home. All of that caused severe social anxiety & left me feeling like an outsider struggling to make & maintain friendships for the rest of my life. I stopped trying to fit & make friends because friendships wouldn't survive snail mail & regular moves. Ouboet & I spent many days home alone with the domestic worker, Liesbet, there in the morning & back in her little house on the other end of the lifestyle block the rest of the day. Dad would hang out at the pub most days after work. Mom was a restaurant manageress & would sleep at work often. There were times we didn't see either of them for weeks. At that stage I was still scared of the dark & would switch mom & dad's bedside radio & the hall light on before going to bed. They would switch off when they got home & by the time we woke up would be gone to work already. In 1977 mom sent us to a German boarding school about 4 hours away from home. On weekends when the other kids went home, we'd remain because it was just too far to fetch us every weekend.  After a few months, my classmate started to invite us to their farm & her parents would become the first set of "parents" that would introduce us to a Godly life. After 2 years dad's speeding fines on every trip to & from boarding school became too much for the budget so by the end of 1979 we were home alone again. Fortunately, we had gotten new neighbours across the road who would become best friends. We would spend most of our time visiting them & were treated like part of the family. For the first time in my childhood I experienced family the way God intended. I gained 2 sisters & a brother. On Sundays they would go to church & invite us to go with them, which we did for a long time. My parents divorced when I was 10 after which mom dropped us with our neighbours/friends across the road. I would later hear it was because she didn't want us anymore. At that stage, my brother & I were severely malnourished having lived mostly on mieliepap, bread & eggs. We didn't know the difference between carrots & pumpkin or cabbage & lettuce. I remember hating the taste of the tonic the doctor prescribed so much that when Mams took the bottle out, I ran & hid outside. Mams & Paps loved us like their own, but unfortunately this joy was short lived because 3 months later mom came back to fetch us. She was moving provinces & her new boyfriend had insisted she bring her children along & I wouldn’t see them again for a few years. I often thought my dad didn’t love us because mom said he didn’t care when we asked why he never phoned.  Years later I would find out that she’d told him we didn’t want to speak to him. There were a few more boyfriends after that & when I was 12 mom remarried. We were in boarding school at the time & hardly knew him. Initially he seemed a fine guy but when we were home permanently again, we quickly learnt he too had alcohol abuse issues & would budget his monthly alcohol purchases over the grocery budget. 5 days after my 13th birthday my little sister was born & from then on. Suddenly things changed at home.  He now had his own daughter and I felt no longer important. For me this meant more rejection because suddenly I could do nothing right. I related to Cinderella, being good enough only to wash the dishes, doing house chores, changing nappies, babysitting & having to take sis out to play in the local park. I loved her to bits but hated how she was everything to my parents, but my existence was barely noted & nothing I did or achieved was ever good enough. Not long after that I was molested by my sister's godfather when he would come visit us with his wife. He was such a kind person but whenever he visited with my mom & stepdad, they would drink a lot & when he was drunk he'd touch me in places that made me cringe. At the time I had no sense of personal boundaries & didn't know about inappropriate touching. The confusion, guilt & shame that brought was immense. Is this how people showed love, but why so much guilt & shame? I couldn't talk to my mom about it because I felt she either wouldn't believe me or would blame me for it so I just shut down & buried it as deep as I could. I was glad when my step-dad was transferred & we moved to the other end of the country so I didn't have to see these people again. The next few years of my youth are a blur of struggle for survival. My abuser reappeared on the scene again for a period of time but thankfully, in our last year of high school mom decided to send us to boarding school, again 3 hours away from home, because of the nightly turmoil over my step-dad's regular drunkenness. When I finished school, I wanted out, so I moved to Cape Town, to live with Mams & Paps. I can't remember the details how it happened, but I ended up teaching sewing lessons at Deo Gloria Christian School in Napier when I was 19. Due to me not having a car or license, Oom Leon & Tannie Jacobi took me into their home for about a year. Once again I was loved like their own daughter & during this time, I first gave my heart to God, was baptised & experienced deliverance from depression for the first time. I had such strong support that I was always singing joyfully. Even though my mom at that stage wanted nothing to do with me until I “changed back” to the way I ways before, & my brother started ignoring me because of stories my mom & step-mom told him, I was fairly content because I had my church family supporting me through that pain.