 A spindly branch of wattle blossoms from the bushland at the end of my street. And a spindly 'think' from my journal where I'm musing about faith and trust and the Refiner's work of love. *** You
meet me where the heart is aching. You hold me when the cracks begin to show.
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 Thinking to myself about limits and disappointments, weariness and pretense, I wrote this in my journal. I know the word failure can be contentious - it's not a popular word to apply to ourselves - but despite all the positive self talk in the world, and the way we can spin our failures to be steps towards success, I believe there are still days when we feel/know our failing deeply. This 'think' is for those days. *** Quit pretending
that you have it all together, that your dreams came true and you look upon your life with satisfaction. The truth is and you know, know, know it  This is my favourite cup.
Or it was. Until last week when it slipped, hit the kitchen tiles and splintered all over the place. I'll admit, I almost cried. Why? Because this wasn't any old mug. It was my 2023 Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference cup. It was big, blue and full of memories with every sip. And now, it's broken. I was flicking through one of my journals recently and found these two 'thinks'. They were from totally different days and yet touch on some similar, if a little heavy, themes.
I guess I've been thinking about the layers and rub of perseverance lately. #1 Can God redeem the stained things? The hasty mistakes second chances My house is built on the side of a hill. You walk in the front door and through the loungeroom to the kitchen, where you look out, directly east, across the tops of the trees. In the afternoons, as the sun sets in the west, the house and the trees in our front yard cast shadows over the view from our kitchen. We look out over the dulling colours of the day, waiting as everything visible sinks into dusk.
One time, as I stared out at the fading sky and shadowed trees, a cluster of cockatoos flew past. I caught my breath at their beauty. |
The Penny DropsIn high school I used to write what I'd call 'thinks' - little bits of writing about whatever topic or issue I was mulling over at the time. I still write these little pieces. Categories
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