It’s been a while and my writing motivation has taken an all-time low.

It started some weeks back when I somehow lost almost 25,000 words. Precious words. Words of the book I’ve been writing. Almost six months of writing, editing, thoughts.

white petaled flowers on a sunny day

Lost Words.

Not just any words, a real-life story, heartfelt moments, traumatic events that had me feeling again whilst I wrote. Moments when tears flowed as I dug deep as I wrote down memories of a time long gone.

After which, I had to ask myself, “have I reconciled with my past?, am I ok ?”

Thankfully the answer was yes.

It’s good to know that it’s actually ok to still feel a little when you remember tough times. I don’t want to be so together that I don’t feel anymore.

I don’t want to be that person who hides their real self behind an austere exterior.

I want to be a person who feels deeply, not shutting down what’s going on inside. Not denying emotions that make me feel vulnerable or even a little needy. We ‘need’ community. We ‘need’ people who gather around us when perhaps we just need a hug or need to know we belong.

I’m thankful for the life I’ve lived, for my story. A story that helped me know I couldn’t walk alone. One that taught me to reach out, to belong to something bigger than myself.

It’s made me who I am today and one day soon when I can gather back my momentum, I’ll share with you a link to the story that resounds within me and the words I lost will come again to paper and yes, I’ll probably shed another tear as I write but it will be worth it.

If my story can help one person to work through their journey and know that there is ‘a future and a hope’ for them, then it’s all worth it.

woman looking towards the sky
Photo by YURI MANEI on Pexels.com

So if you’ve had a set back this week. Don’t give up. Look for the silver lining, it will come.




A Little Life

I sit here in my little courtyard, in the centre of my little home, surrounded by a few little things, not a lot in comparison to others, but certainly enough. I’m still incredibly aware of how blessed I am in what appears to be the worst season we have ever faced, well, in my lifetime.

People are comparing this ‘unprecedented’ season to that of war times but I imagine living through a war zone would be so much much worse than our COVID Calamity. I certainly don’t want to down-play peoples personal experiences but I do wonder about our modern ‘wartime’. COVID is not the only enemy that we face? What looms with it, is uncertainty.  Even though none of us can be certain about our future, I have this sense that I am more secure than ever, kept safe in what I term “The Cleft of the Rock”.

There’s a Hebrew word, Sela’ which means “a cleft or an opening made a by a split in the mountain”.  It was one of the safest places to hide in early times. In some ways, Covid has caused a split, a crevice and we have all retreated into the safety of our own space, our own homes, hoping and praying that we will be well.

While things here in Western Australia are all back to normal there are still many in lock down or high alert, wondering what will come next, but strangely, I feel safe. I’m hiding in the cleft of the rock, a rock I’ve come to know as Jesus.

In this place, I’m grateful.

I’m grateful for the smallness of where I am. Perhaps in some ways, it’s like a little ‘cleft’ for me, and tho the bricks and mortar that surround are not my own, it’s it feels right, it feels very safe. A hiding place and a shelter. A refuge.

I’m led to believe that light has been shed on how we view our families, our possessions, our dreams, our world and especially our future.

We can get back at at this calamity and any sinister agenda by asking ourselves ‘what now, what do I want to take into my future and how will I navigate the days ahead?

Let’s look beyond Covid and not be robbed of a wonderful opportunity opportunity to begin again.

Where there’s a will – THERE IS ALWAYS A WAY

For me, It’s the little things.

I’m so grateful for the little things.

A bird that wags his tail in joyful dance and makes my smile.

The way the sun shines on my garden bed, shedding rainbow light on a morning dewdrop

I’m grateful for air in my lungs, for breath, for life.

I am thankful beyond measure for what I have right now and I’ve decided that the little things are enough for me.

I’m not saying that I won’t be building for a future, because I am, but more than anything I am thankful that Covid has made me take a long look at what I value and I can honestly say, it’s not the big things.

As I sit here ready to end this little blog, the sun has dipped below the horizon. The sky is darkening and hues of blue and pink are lit up by a half moon light. I can hardly believe my eyes! A little bird has just now landed on the clothesline right beside me. He’s fanning out his tiny black tail. Little white-tipped feathers wag left and right as he performs his glorious dance, just for me and I smile with delight.

Here, in the cleft of my rock, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, I am safe and I am seen.

It’s the little things