Desert Rain

“And these three remain Faith, Hope and Love but the greatest of these is love” 1 Corinthians 13.13

On May 1^st, my Mum and Dad had their fortieth wedding anniversary. When my parents were married forty years ago they had 1 Corinthians 13 as their wedding passage. For forty years they have had engraved inside their wedding rings: “…these three remain faith, hope and love…the greatest of these is love”

For forty years I have been blessed with a mother and father who love each other and have committed to the vows they made on their wedding day. Although no where near perfect by any standard, my parents made mistakes and there have been really difficult times. For better or worse, I lived in a home where LOVE was the foundation, FAITH demonstrated in all things and HOPE seen in what was to come. I was raised knowing GOD is LOVE as reality from early in life. That  is a gift. There are many things that I’ve realised that I have gleaned from being in that environment and by how my parents lived their lives without ever really saying them as principals or words.

My thoughts and reflections have been random and profound:

• The Bible is the Word of God. Living and active, sharper than any two edge sword.
• Christianity is holistic – whole of life. Not just part.
• Care for aliens and strangers and the outcast.
• God is our provider. Everything comes from him.
• Family devotion grows us all and bring family together.
• Prayer is active. As a family help to stay strong in our faith and with each other. Prayer reminds us of who we are, what we are about and where we are going.
• We are part of the whole family of God. Worshipping with them is important for the building of our faith.
• We build community by building relationships.
• Worship God no matter what the tradition or context.
• Being missional encompasses all areas of life.
• Faith in God is personal and knowing Jesus as Saviour but this life is not about me. There is no room for selfishness.
• You will need other ‘parental’ people to be there for you in as you walk with Jesus.
• Be Kingdom builders.
• Open home: a home has elastic walls, enough food to go around, a spare bed, a listening ear, a cup of tea and another chair at the table when its needed. 
• Family of God is big and it means there is plenty of older and younger brothers and sisters.
• Family is important.
• Children are important. Caring for them and being part of their growing up is one the best things in the world
• All life is precious and valuable
• All babies are precious and wonderful!
• Work hard so stuff gets done.
• Going away as a family: camping and holidaying is an adventure.
• Playing games as family helps us to learn, brings us together and work as a team
• Not having a screen in the house until around the age of ten taught me to listen and be creative.
• Hospitality and being generous is normal. We give out of what we do have no matter how small.
• Driving places and enjoying the journey, creates memories.
• Love and accept all people. They are people.
• Invest in your neighbours. All the people around. Have close friendships and invest in them.
• Love and serve people who ever they are and where ever you are.
• Be patient with others and each other.
• Care for the sick and dying.
• Discipline, structure and order help to create space.
• Clean up after yourself, it makes it easier the person coming behind you.
• Be honest and truthful.
• Care for extended family when you can.
• Don’t be idle with your time. Time is valuable.
• Don’t go with the status quo just because it is.
• If there is a pot to stir. Be wise about about how it is stirred. Honour and respect authority during the process.
• Be careful with what words you use and how you say them.
• Think outside the box.
• We can learn a lot through music, its expression and lyrics.
• Reading is one of the best things you can ever learn to do. Books are better than watching any screen.
• Walk patiently and gently with those who don’t learn or catch as quickly as you do.

On marriage:

• Look for the best in the other person.
• Give space in life for the other person to be their best.
• Be patient with the other person.
• Conversation and communication when there is conflict with a spouse whether written or said fiercely can help.
• When life is hard. Keep going. Figure it out. Work together.
• Grow together even if it means you can’t be together
• Marriage is not easy but worth it.
• Be affectionate with each other even when you have kids that grown and don’t like it.
• Commitment is commitment.
• Marriage is for better or worse, in sickness in health, to love and cherish, til death do us part.
• Worship, pray and read scripture together.

Our kids said about their grandparents by watching their lives and who they are:

• Very generous with everything and who they are.
• Be willing to do what God wants, when he says and what he says.
• Be compassionate and kind with others.
• Hospitality and meals together are important.
• Use team work even when they’re grumpy.
• Honesty is important all the time.
• Provide a place that can be home for everyone.
• Creativity can be practical in all areas of life.
• They Grow great kids that have grown great kids.
• Being missional is important. 
• Love people from other cultures and learning new languages.

Written in honour of my parents who have set an example of love and worship of their heavenly father, live life through faith in God and know the hope that is to come in all things. May you be blessed in all things! Happy 40th Wedding Anniversary!

Psalm 128 – “Blessed is everyone who fears the LORD who walk in his ways! You shall eat the fruit of your labour of your hands; you shall be blessed, and it shall be well with you. Your wife will be like a fruitful vine within yiour house; your children will be like olive shoots around your table. Behold, thus shall the man be blessed who fears the LORD. The LORD bless you from Zion! May you see prosperity of Jerusalem all the days of your life! May you see your children’s children! Peace be upon Israel!”

Once upon a time, nineteen years ago today (March 23) I embarrassed myself by doing something completely out of character for me: I told Will Briggs I thought I was attracted to him. His response was to drive me home via the scenic route, at forty kilometres per hour and we had a very forthright and foundational conversation with lots and lots of questions Some of them were these: What’s your vision for life? What’s your calling? How do you feel about speaking in tongues? The answers went something like this:

• I believe I’m called to full time ministry of some sort. That was both of us.
• I have been prophesied over that I will be a minister in the Anglican Church and I’ve had many others about being in leadership in the church. That was Will.
• I had been prophesied over a number of times that I would lead young people and be a pastors wife. That was me.
• God had given us both the gift of tongues. I also said that I had an ileostomy and another stoma but that it was temporary. I felt that I should be up front and let him know.

We prayed together that night. And then we talked on the phone, briefly, once in the next three days and then met up again. After talking to my mentor during those three days and praying about it I felt to hold the relationship close to my heart (not tell the whole world) and take it slow. Will felt the same.

There is a prelude to this story: around a month before this conversation God had shown me a picture of Will and I together and I knew he was saying “This is who you will marry.”  My response was verbal: “I can’t marry him, he’s got red hair!” I was imagining our red haired children and all the issues with the sun I had to bear with. I knew Will but not well and did not like what I had seen at all. At this point, as God had spoken, I made a decision to get to know him more and pursue a deeper friendship.

Will had made a bargain with God that if it was just God and him that was fine but if he wanted him to get married then she had to come to him. He had been hurt previously.

He was eighteen. I was twenty.

So, today is our going-out-aversary. We never actually ‘went out’ I still think the terminology sounds silly. We didn’t ‘date’ either. We were just together.

I’m aware that the way we started our relationship is very different from most but what we come back to is that God put us together.  I now know more of what I could see in him as a man of God. What I was attracted to.  Will: a big man. A farm boy. A leader. Heart after God’s own heart. Pray-er and Worshipper. Highly intelligent. Brilliant with words. Protective and loyal. Devoured the Word of God as if he could not get enough. A warrior.Teachable with deep spirituality. And he drove me nuts and frustrated me too! Still does.

Will writes…  Gill: Vivacious and tenacious. Both sensitive and stubborn, able to go where it hurts but with healing not pain. Discerning and wise.  Kept me grounded and lifted my head at the same time. Regal but didn’t know it.  I wanted my children to have her as a mother! Iron that sharpened mine, knocked the edges off. Did I say stubborn? Prophetic, uncompromising, voice for the voiceless. A worshiper of worshipers with a soaring Spirit. Completely untameable and unpredictable. A spiritual warrior.  You should see her fight, and shine.  She knows Jesus better than me. Still does.

Our relationship has been anything but a lovely, mushy and sweet. Although there is that too,we are both stubborn, passionate people and it was, and still is at times, turbulent. In the lovely times and the roughest times we have always had the same aim: Togetherness.

There are times when we are both low and have nothing left to give and all we can do is hold hands and say “Well at least we’re in this together.”  That togetherness is something we have worked hard at and we have really learned that real Togetherness is God, and the Two of Us.

When we were going out I was away for five months out of the first ten that we were together. During that time I made up a tape of soppy love songs that might mean something to the both of us or words that I wanted to send to him. One of them that I liked particularly was a song by Paul Janz called Never Alone. Every word of it now is more relevant and more profound than it was then. To each other. For both of us.

Who would’ve thought a daggy 90′s song that I sent to Will on a cassette tape while I was living away for five months was prophetic?

I know
You wish you were home
And all of this night was over
When you’re down and you’re broken
A room couldn’t get much colder
Only the lonely hearts
Know what it feels like to break apart
Well, I wish I could reach you
I really want you to know

You’re never alone
Every hope you breathe has wings
And in harmony I’ll sing
You’re never alone
I’m the light before your eyes
Your vision when it dies
In your darkness I will shine

Oceans between us
Ten thousand breakers breaking
I’ll come to you
In visions never fading
And you’ll feel your hand strong in mine
All your loneliness I will bear
If you need inspiration
I’ve got so much to share

So take that heartache you’re feelin’
Let it go keep believin’
You can walk through this night
And always know
That I’ll be there for you
You’re not alone

Togetherness. Do I still feel lonely? Often. Will would say the same. Much of that has to do with ministry and illness. We’re broken people. Only God can fill the lonely ache and he gave Will and I the opportunity to do that together with him. Not alone.

On days such as today I’m reminded again of what God has done in our life. He called us together. He made us to be attracted to each other. When there is conflict and that sense of no resolve we go back to who God is: that our relationship was founded in him. We think back over what were attracted to in the first place.

We’ve been together over nineteen years. Growing, walking, talking, laughing and weeping. Being instruments of God’s grace to each other in some of the darkest times and some of the best times I’ve ever known. Together.

Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down,one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up. Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken. Ecclesiastes 4.9-12

We were married sixteen months later. That’s another story

Its one of those days where I can barely function at all. Joints ache. Limbs and muscles hurt. Head throbs and my brain is numb. My eye sockets are sore and I’m struggling to hold my eyes open. There’s stabbing pain in my toes, feet and ankles. My knees feel as if they are locked and tangled up inside themselves. It takes energy to put one foot in front of the other or to take the next breath. I’m unable to bend. My back and pelvis spasm. That dumb piercing ache in my side where I had surgery is there. Fatigue. I’m hunched over, its hard work to hold my body up. The pain meds that I’m reliant on for functioning don’t seem to be doing their job today. I’m moving in slow motion. I feel like a record on slow speed. Muffled and barely comprehensible.

I’m horizontal. Feel as though I’m sinking in to the softness of the mattress as it holds up my frame. Nice relief to be held.

As I lie with my stunted, sad and racing thoughts I can hear the sounds in the household. They are soothing life giving moments. I can hear Sons of Korah playing in the dining room as Anna is cleaning up the kitchen. Its a weekend. She’s just finished making brunch for brothers, sister and myself. We try and aim to have something special for breakfast on Saturday’s.

Samuel’s voice is singing from Les Miserables. Today he is Jean Val Jean. Singing it all off-by-heart, pitch perfect, with strength as he tidies his room. The washing machine finishes and lets off its signal that the cycle is finished. Samuel is hanging out the washing out and still singing.

I can hear the audio of Little Women being played in Miriam’s room, distracting her as she puts away the carpet of clothes on the floor of her room and finds her bed.

The trampoline springs squeak outside my window and lets me know that Ethan is bouncing out his inner turmoil. All his feeling and imagination going into every jump that is made. The day is glorious and sunny. The breeze rustles the leaves.

My phone is buzzing. It’s Will checking on me and where the kids are at…

The music has changed. Anna has Bremen Town playing as she conquers Mount Washing-tonne and there’s a game on the computer being played.

This is normal – only today it’s harder. There’s no rhyme or reason why today is particularly bad. It just is. This is part of being family for us. It been this way for years.

I have asked questions for years, read books and spoken to well educated professionals about the affect of my illness and being in pain has on our children. Trying to figure out the fine line of care, sensitivity without the world revolving around the one hurting and family walking on eggshells. I despise being like this. The darkness of depression that comes with it is another story on its own. I’ve realised over the past few weeks that our life has grown around it. Forming a scar. My children don’t know what life is like without a mother unwell and yet they long for it. I’m saddened that this is what they have as a mother. I can’t change the circumstance of the minefield of pain my body is but it doesn’t change who I am. Although it certainly has shaped me and our children.

Anna is very discerning and looks at me with concern in her eyes. As eldest child we have had to ensure she can be that. A child. As she naturally takes on the role of ‘Mum’ when I’m not present. She even bosses me around and tells me to go and lie down She is growing into a lovely, compassionate and wise woman who is keenly aware of the needs of others around her. She is growing in wisdom as she walks with Jesus.

Samuel, at 14, can often be oblivious to where people are at. His heart is soft, he has an incredible capacity to understand it medically and so therefore finds ways to respond practically as to take some of the household load. He has had to learn how to hug gently as I can’t be held any other way.

Our precious Ethan (he’s 11) can be the emotional barometer of the family and has found it particularly difficult. He is very perceptive and compassionate. He hurts when others hurt. He would do anything to take the pain from me if he could. Last year as I waited for surgery Ethan developed significant anxiety issues. He was frightened I would die and yet, in the longing for my healing which he has not stopped praying for, he expressed that in heaven I could do what ever I wanted. That’s what he longs for. A whole, healed Mum. He aches with it and carries it with him.

He says “It’s just being sensitive to those who hurt. Everyone hurts at sometime. Some hurt all the time. Ask if you can help. Offer them a cup of tea or something.” That’s pastoral care at its best.

Miss Miriam who is 9 (our sweet, disorganised, feisty ray of sunshine) said this week that she has got used to the changes. She doesn’t like it when things sometimes change “just like that” but she’s got used to it but still feels deep disappointment at times. Without an ounce of worry in her voice she talks very matter-of-factly that she feels I will die younger because of everything that has happened to my body. There is no fear. What she looks forward to is being in heaven with me where we can dance, sing and do all the things I can’t do now because in heaven I’ll have a body that works. That’s what is important.

As a result of living with suffering in the household as a family I believe we have learned to be more authentic in our worship of God – in who we are and how we express our faith. We can talk honestly and openly, about life and whatever is happening in it, and what God is doing. We know how to celebrate life, have fun, be silly and laugh (laughter is the best medicine!). I feel our children are more responsible and have an awareness that life is not about them and is so much bigger than they are. They are part of a family and we have to work together to make it work. They care that their friends don’t walk closely with Jesus and are concerned about issues of injustice around the world. They have an understanding of the spiritual battle that rages and which seems to be parallel the pain that my body is in on this missional frontline God has placed us on.

I sat in the car today trying to keep my muzzled brain alert to the many things around me, sounds of the engine and gear changes. The bright yellow ‘L’ plate on the windscreen indicating that I’m the passenger. Anna is driving and the speakers in the car cry out and the kids are singing “Here I am to worship, here I am to bow down, here I am to say that you’re my God…” That breaks through the struggle and pain. That’s what this life is about.

The loudest noise is the inner battle. The battle of my mind and my soul… I feel that pain and illness devalues me. Unwanted and discarded. There is an intense loneliness that comes with pain as the majority of people don’t understand. Many Christians seem to have no clue. Ministry life is difficult as I feel I don’t belong as if I’ve been disqualified by an unwell body… and being in pain. If I had cancer or some other debilitating illness I could explain it. I can look good on the outside. People often remark at how well I look. That’s just the wonderful creative expression of clothes and make up. I’m grateful for it.

I read a book years ago by Leigh Hatcher, I’m not Crazy I’m just a little unwell. Its also the title of a song by Matchbox 20. That’s often how I feel. I’m tired of being sick and sick of being tired. I don’t like being known for it as its not who I am. I know that I’m not crazy, well not in that way anyway ;-)

As someone who looks for reason in why things happen. Trying to find purpose in pain and ways of embracing it  with our kids has not been easy. What we hold onto is “… that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.  For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.  Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies.” Roman 8.18-23  

A few years ago God showed me this song (Another one by Mercyme) It echoes that of knowing pain, difficult circumstance.Yet, living as a child of God, who shares in the sufferings of Christ and knowing that he is so much greater than any pain.. It resounds with the words “Bring the Rain.”

In the end this is what the sound of pain is to me –  to hear the sound of rain and bring glory to God know matter what it hold.  ”Jesus, bring the rain…”

Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.                  2 Cor 12.8-10

Its been a long time since I sat down to write and blog. I’ve had a few people ask if and when I would write again and even some concerned because I haven’t written. I’ve struggled to know how to begin again.

I did eventually have surgery (mid August).  The timing I felt unusual with all that my husband was doing and with where my children were at the time.

Recovery still continues. Initial stages I feel took much longer than it could’ve due to the lengthy wait for surgery and a nasty wound infection. I am incredibly grateful for the medical staff, my mother coming for a brief but timely stay, friends who helped us out in various ways, the faithful people that pray, my dear husband Will who somehow managed to be at my side and the patience of our four children – it is not easy to live with a mother who is unwell and in pain.

It has now been well over fifteen months since this journey with bowel obstructions and sickness began. This time last year I was in and out of hospital almost weekly. It seem as though life has stopped and felt very uncertain. The waiting for surgery was a long process. Now, life is busy and is still uncertain.

Over the past months I have started to do things I haven’t done for a long time or ever simply because I can. (Like horse riding and snorkelling! ) During the process of recovery I have learned even more than I have ever done to celebrate life. I’ve always been one to focus on the blessings – now I celebrate even more and want to get the poms poms out and cheer life on!

The road of recovery is not easy. The word ‘recovery’ is an interesting one. The dictionary has various definitions:

re·cov·er·y [ri-kuhv-uh-ree]  noun, plural re·cov·er·ies.
an act of recovering.
the regaining of or possibility of regaining something lost or taken away.
restoration or return to health from sickness.
restoration or return to any former and better state or condition.”

A return to a normal state of health, mind, or strength

The action or process of regaining possession or control of something stolen or lost.

Something gained or restored in recovering.

So when I’m asked have I recovered? The answer is ‘no.’
Am I recovering? The answer is ‘yes.’

Recovery is a journey. I have come to see it as a time of repair. A process of healing.

This road is not easy. Major surgery did the job of fixing the part of my gut that needed fixing. My immune system is still attacking itself so as for the rest of my body I still live with constant pain all over, fatigue & exhaustion, and the highs and lows of depression that go with that. I have come  to rely on medication to get through each day. At the start of a new year I still don’t know what it holds. What lies ahead is unknown and I wonder how and why.

There are things that have been emphasised and the things that God has tried to teach me on the way:

• God is the only constant. He alone is good. His love never fails.
• The relationships that come out of illness and who stick with you through it are likely to be the ones that last through anything and are the most trustworthy. Friends that are there during the hardest & darkest times are true friends.
• Provision comes from God and can be unusual but always perfectly timed and a Blessing;
•  God gave me a budgerigar named ‘Shelly’ (aka Sheldon) as a friend. She was often my only companion. She is very tame. She flew away over this summer and by some miracle she came back! (I know it sounds crazy! )
• The majority of people do not understand chronic illness, sickness or pain.
• Children are a blessing from the Lord and have the capacity to understand more than you think. Honestly, better than adults.
• Calling, vision and who God created me to be doesn’t change. When everything is stripped away it becomes even more prevalent.
•  Worshipping God is all the time.
  • Being faithful no matter what the season of life. To God, my Husband, my children, etc
  • Discipling: Walking with people and blessing them makes life worth living, grows community and builds the kingdom of God here on earth.
  • There is always so many more worse off than me. Issues of Justice and mercy have become a major interest.
• Life picks up pace way to quickly. I now long for the opportunities to just be, to read & sit and have a cup of tea in the sun I love the moments on my own, basking in silence more than any other time.
• Technology can be very helpful. I had one friend in particular who while feeding her baby in the middle of night was there with me and praying through chatting online. Social networking sites have kept me connected with the outside world.
• Music and its lyrics have continued to keep me alive. Sons of Korah have been particularly helpful, especially at night.
• The wrestle with healing continues. Knowing God in it of what he wants. Seeing the glory of God in the pain and knowing a loving Father, while continuing to pray for healing is an ongoing tension. MercyMe released a song called ‘The Hurt and the Healer’ This song speaks volumes…

“I say to the Lord “you are my Lord; I have no good apart from you.” The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup…”Psalm16.2, 5a

A few months ago I came across When You are a Soldier, a song by Steven Curtis Chapman. As an artist his music has journeyed with me for many years. This particular song speaks to me personally of calling and what it means for me to be a Christian: To walk with, lead and lift-up children, the broken, the weak; and to do the same with leaders in the church.

I’m reminded that spiritual warfare, loss, hurt and grief are part of the Christian life. The enemy will aim where we are weakest and often we don’t even realise the chinks in our armour until we’re hit. The enemy seems to know who is strategic across the body of Christ and will do everything to take them down. I have known this in my own life. God has also allowed me to be with others, particularly those who are on the front line of ministry helping them know the comfort of his presence and the embrace of his family as his grace to us.

(The song itself starts at 1:20)

On Saturday morning a precious friend lost her battle with cancer.  Her walk with this illness has deeply affected me. This dear lady shares a name with me (different spelling). She’s been a friend, a sister in Christ.  We have journeyed together through the ministry of retreat and as an ordained minister in the diocese of Tasmania. We have been comrades in arms.

Her passing and her illness, for those who have known and loved her, has shaken many across the body of Christ.

As a wife she lovingly honoured her husband, adoringly. She walked with her children and upheld her faith in Christ alone, standing for him, worshipping him, prayerfully seeking her Lord and Saviour in all things.

She was full of life and youthfulness, even as the debilitating illness slowed her down and gripped hold of her. She continued to stand in prayer and worship, love her family and pray for healing and revival in this state, nation and the world. She oozed a peacefulness that was beyond earthly understanding. She shared with me her longing for the hope and healing of heaven. There was almost an excitement when she told me, “I get to go be with Jesus.”

I feel like she’s been shot down with a fiery arrow of the enemy. She has taken one for the team. The one thing I don’t want is for the loss of this is incredible lady to be in vain. She has left a legacy of life, enthusiasm for Jesus and loving his people, for raising God’s people to pray. We are in a battle and this war is real. Amidst the grief I pray we will no longer be apathetic and complacent. I pray that we would be God’s holy army and pray. Within the sadness we can stand with her, sister in Christ, comrade in arms, as she is now with the great cloud of witnesses cheering us on and pray for God’s kingdom to come on earth as it is in heaven! Come Lord Jesus! Bring Revival to this land!

She can now hear her Father say ‘well done good and faithful servant. I will see this precious lady again when I worship with her in our eternal home.