Tuesday, April 17, 2018

Just a silly little poem by a Mum.

Not perfect. Never was.
But I love them.
I hope they remember waking up with an extra blanket on when it’s cold.
I hope they remember going to bed with full bellies, even if we weren’t the perfect family eating at the table all the time.

I hope they remember the music. The dancing. The worshipping god and praising in the storms.
I hope they remember that we worked hard, and did our best, and I hope they remember the ‘sorry’ when we failed.
I hope they remember the laughter and the silliness, and that they can learn to understand and forgive the stress and anger.

I hope they learned that people make mistakes, and get angry, but that it doesn’t mean that they’re ‘bad’ or ‘failures’ just forgiven sinners who will try again tomorrow.
I hope they remember the people. Their people. And they continue to build lifelong relationships that provide fellowship and encouragement.

I hope that they can always come home and feel the cares of the world lift off their shoulders for a tiny bit.
I hope they keep talking (even when I wish they’d be quiet!)
I hope they love, and know that they are and always will be loved. Richly and abundantly.
I hope that even when it’s tough, that they can learn to trust and hope in something greater than themselves.


I know they will be ok.


By Robyn Sellars 

Thursday, March 22, 2018

On trusting.

My family is in a season of stress right now. I don't even quite know why. Shane and I are both studying, and I'm working a bit now, his job is incredibly stressful, Ted is teething, and the big kids are at the end of a school term.... but it feels like there is so much more going on. Something unseen, bubbling under the surface, and I feel powerless against it, as it attacks us.

And I don't know what to do. I literally don't. I am trusting God with all of me, because I know that He is stronger, and more powerful than anything that can come against us. And so I bake muffins, because the only thing I know how to do is feed my family. I bake muffins, and I pray. I cry, and I scream, and I trust God, because He alone is my stronghold and my shield. I cook dinner during the middle of the day so the world doesn't implode in the afternoon. I dread school pick up because there are so many emotions, and I try desperately to be the the rock in the storm, and cling to the Rock in this storm. I pray. And I make the beds, and I try to make sure everyone has clean clothes. And I know that He who began good work will carry it on to completion. I try to calm my seething rage that is present under the surface, and I try to forgive. I am the meat in the sandwich. I apologise when I fail, over and over again,  and force myself to believe that I am saved by grace, not by works. I trust that God has plans to prosper me, not to harm me, and I choose to believe that this season will end, and that God can accomplish the impossible, and one day we will look back and go; yes, that was a really tough time.
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