Embracing Freedom

Embracing Freedom. Grace is my story. Hope is my anchor. Joy is my strength. Laughter is my song.

Thursday 3 April 2014

Moving on ... again ...

It's not what you think! Really!

I'm just changing my blog domain, from now on you will be able to find Itsy Bitsy Sammy at itsybitsysammy.wordpress.com You will need to follow the link and subscribe if you still want to receive posts straight to your inbox. 

I'm hoping you'll come with me. 


My hope is that there, you might get a taste of freedom, that it may take hold of your heart and pull you into a journey of increasing freedom. Embrace it. I hope that we can share stories of grace, that you might find the courage to become vulnerable to go a little deeper, that you might discover a hope that will anchor you for life and a joy that strengthens. Oh and that we would laugh, from the depths of our bellies, till it’s silent and our sides hurt. Ok?

Thanks for sharing the journey with me this far!

The first post will be up later today. 

May you be filled with faith,Anchored by His hope, Transformed by His abundant, extravagant, relentless, pursuing love,And strengthened by His Spirit so you can change the world. 


Friday 28 March 2014

Five minute Friday - Mighty - Eshet Chayil

Go:

One of my fav stories in the bible is the story of Gideon. A man who is visited by an Angel of God and tasked with conquering a mighty army who were holding his people captive. He’s reluctant to begin with, because he is the smallest of his clan, the weakest in his family. Yet he is the one who is chosen. And during this visit he is called a “Mighty man of valour”.

Valour: Courage, Bravery, Spirit, Nerve, Heroism, Fearlessness, Boldness, Gallantry.

God uses the seemingly unlikely to achieve the impossible. To conquer the foe. To silence the avenger. To rescue the captive, to free the oppressed.

The Proberbs 31 women is described as "Eshet Chayil" … Woman of valour. See sometimes we read Proverbs 31 as a compliance document, a list of tasks, and it can be unnerving, overwhelming and oppressive. Here is a women who is called a Woman of valour.

A woman of Courage, Bravery, Spirit, Nerve, Heroism, Fearlessness, Boldness, Gallantry.


What ever she does, she does it with all her might, with valour, whether it’s sewing clothes for her family, or feeding the hungry. The task isn’t the focus here, it’s how she goes about whatever it is she is doing. This chapter speaks to me of character. Tasks aside, whatever each day holds, today in the here and now, I want to live as a mighty woman of valour. Eshet Chayil!

Stop.

I'm linking up with Lisa Jo Baker for five minute friday (writing for five minutes with whatever comes out not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.) and todays prompt word is "Mighty" 
Five Minute Friday


Monday 24 March 2014

Conditional love ... why I'm a far from perfect parent

A beautiful sun shiny day, the sky is blue, not a cloud in sight and Master four is home today with a hacking cough. His little throat is so sore. As the day goes on his energy increases and he wants to play. Ahhh the park. A source of joy, a place to play to learn to run, and to pee … apparently.

Seriously, every time we get to this particular park, one of the children need to go to the toilet. Which would be fine … if there was a toilet. There’s not. Today was no different, although we lasted a good ten minutes which is a miracle. So Master four is walking towards me, pulling down his pants without a care in the world. 

“Um, what are you doing?” I ask

“I need to go wee’s.” He replies

“Zachy, there is no toilet”

“I’ll just go on the grass.”

“Um, no you won’t. If you need to go to the toilet we’ll have to go home” as I start to pick up my bag

“Oh, it’s ok mum, I don’t need to go.”

And off he goes to play ... I thought.

Within a minute he’s out of my sight, and so I stand to find him … no sign. I walk around this tree that hangs over itself and creates a cave that kids love to play in, and as I look in, I see a four year old doing his business. MY four year old.

“Zachary Millar!”

He emerges pulling up his pants, he’s obviously relieved. I’m obviously mortified.

“In the car right now we are going home”

“What mum?! No!”

“Ah, yes, I told you not to do wees here, you didn't listen we are going home.”

I explained to him that it wasn't appropriate for so So SO many reasons! Deliberate disobedience. It’s fair to say I was disappointed.

And as we drive home, he sits in the back in tears. And then he hits me for a six with a question. It rocks me to my core. Children have this way of turning your world upside down in the most innocent of ways.

“But Mum” he sobs “Do you still love me?”

Are. you. kidding. me? He’s four. What on Earth would ever give him the impression that I would ... that it was even possible, for me to stop loving him. And my heart breaks. Because peeing in a bush after I’d told him not too is minuscule.

But for some reason, this little guy thinks that as a result of his behaviour, his disobedience, he is now unworthy of my love?

And my mind floods with questions; What have I done to make him think my love for him is conditional? A harsh word? A glaring look? A fierce tone? Too strict? Hovered? Ignored? What haven’t I done? Hugged enough? Encouraged enough? Played enough? Validated enough? Prayed enough?

This isn't the first time we've had this conversation. It’s happened a couple of times over the last couple of weeks.

“Zachy, of course I still love you! Nothing could ever stop me loving you. Nothing. Nothing you say, nothing you do. I will always love you.”

At home he apologises and melts in my arms. It’s over. And I hold him tight! I remind him I love him.

And he says “No matter what?”

“No matter what!!!”

And his lips curl up, he grins with this massive smile, and it’s like he knew all along. He just needed to be reassured. Man I love this kid.

Unconditional love loves regardless of behaviour and through the consequence. It’s the same way I’m loved by love himself. I love because he first loved me. “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

And sometimes I question it and he reassures me with truth. I'm still learning. To be loved and to love. And I'm believing my boy, who I love more than I can say will learn, know and experience this unconditional love too. 

Friday 21 March 2014

Five Minute Friday - Joy Restored

Go.

She sits, with this look of absolute delight. Her face glows and it’s obvious something is going on. She looks different, she has this spark. There is this cheeky, wild, wonderful sense about her. And it draws us in. It’s so … so … so … majestic. Like a dramatic transformation has occurred, from the inside out. Her eyes shine, with a depth that just can’t be explained.

It’s like she’s been stripped bare of the guilt and shame of the past, and all she can see is what’s ahead; a glorious future. Just looking at her makes me want to dance, to jump, to spin in circles, to do cartwheels, to sing loud.

 What she’s got, she’s exuding, and it’s contagious. I want that, more than anything, right at this moment, I want THAT! 

She’s been restored, renewed, redeemed, and she knows it, she gets it … like … REALLY gets it! And it shows, it shows in her eyes, in her smile, in her countenance. Joy.

“Restore unto me the joy of my salvation, and renew a right spirit within me”


Stop. 

Today I'm linking up with Lisa-Jo Baker for five minute Friday, a bunch of people write for five minutes on a prompt word (Joy), 5 minutes only, no editing, no perfecting, just real and raw as it comes. 

Five Minute Friday

Friday 14 March 2014

Unconventional Generous Joy

There is a clothes rack, full of clothes drying. Clothes in the machine that haven't been hung out yet. Piles of folded washing sit on the table, yet to be put away. A mountain of dry washing sits in the basket. It's looking a little more like Everest with each hour that passes. Toys cover the floor, placed ever so carefully by my two year old, it's where they belong. The breakfast dishes still sit on the bench. Shelves to dust. Vacuuming to be done...


And we sit. Together. In our PJ's, on the floor, watching a movie. The kids snuggle up close to me. It's so precious. They are generous with their cuddles these days. I have to remind myself to treasure these moments, because it will pass before I know it. That's what everyone says.



They are generous with their joy too. With what seems like the smallest thing to me, their excitement overwhelms them, and they jump, and scream, and dance, and sing. It's uncontainable, uncontrollable, unconventional, they can't help but express it, they can't help but share it.

And all to often, I shush them. My look, my tone says it all. Trying to persuade them to contain it, expecting the impossible. But one day they'll learn. And they might just suppress that joy. And they might just lose that joy.

That's the last thing I want.

I have much to learn. Children are so generous with their joy. They exude it.

"the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." - Jesus

Sometimes I miss it, and sometimes I take hold of it, and cling to it for all it's worth. While the piles of clothes and mountain of unfolded washing sits, and the dishes remain unwashed.

For the afternoon we come up with a plan to share some joy, to be generous and make others happy.

As we prepare the kids become excited; and they jump, and scream, and dance, and sing. It's uncontainable, uncontrollable, unconventional ... and it's fun.







And soon, there is a park full of children with balloons. Joyous children. Running, and playing, and jumping, and screaming, and dancing and singing. And the teenagers ... they surprise me, they are determined not to miss out, and come over asking, if perhaps ... they could have a balloon each too.




Such generosity. Such joy. Such fun.

And as the day draws to an end, Zac shares his highlight ... "Giving the balloons to the other kids at the park, it made me happy"

Giving made him happy.

"the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."


If you liked this, don't forget to sign up with your email to get Itsy Bitsy delivered straight to your inbox. Sign up at the top right of this page :) 


Have you heard about 40 acts of generosity? It's a way of participating in lent generously ... check it out here. 

Five Minute Friday - Crowd


"Crowd"

GO:

Sometimes I just have to withdraw, to get away from the crowd. Because life, at times, it feels like I’m surrounded and it can be overwhelming. Claustrophobic.  And it’s thick and heavy. And I need to regain composure. And breathe. And be. Away from it all.






And then I get back in there. Into the crowd. Because life happens there. There is hope. There is freedom. There is healing. There is forgiveness. Life happens in the crowd.

A woman. Pushes her way through the crowd. She’s contaminated. She reaches through the crowd and touches the end of his cloak. Healing.

A young boy, with such a small offering, his own lunch, is used to feed a crowd of 5,000. Provision.

A woman, no longer condemned, no longer named adulteress, as the crowd dissipates. Forgiveness.

A crowd, gathered, listening to His teaching. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.”

A great crowd followed.

And Jesus often withdrew to lonely places to pray.

Life happens in the crowd, but sometimes, you just need to get away.




STOP.




Five Minute Friday
Today I'm linking up with Lisa-Jo Baker for 5 Minute Friday - Every Friday a bunch of writers, spend five minutes writing on a one word prompt, no editing, no perfecting, just however it comes. Beauty. Today's word ... Crowd. 

Thursday 6 March 2014

Inspiring Change on International Women's Day

Every year on 8 March, people around the world celebrate International Women’s Day by recognising the advances of women’s rights socially, economically and politically. This year’s theme is ‘Inspiring Change’.
As we look back, we see many advances made by women. We remember with gratitude women of influence that inspired change and dared risk their reputations, their ambitions and, at times, their lives for the betterment of others. Women like Rosa Parks, Kate Shepherd, Florence Nightingale, Amelia Earhart, Mother Theresa and Catherine Booth. International Women’s Day is a time to celebrate progress made in the past—and to look forward with hope and anticipation for progress to come.
We could be fooled into thinking that gender inequality is no longer an issue. That there is no longer a cause to fight for. That women have attained equality and the battle is won. But there is still a great need for radical change.
Politically, women hold less than one-fifth of positions in national governments. They are often excluded from the negotiating table, something evident recently when no women were invited to participate in the Syrian peace talks.
Economically, women still earn less than men, own less property and hold less positions of power in corporate settings than men. The United Nations says its focus for this year’s International Women’s Day is ‘equality for women is progress for all’. Studies show that when women earn income and hold assets, finances are more likely to be used on nutrition, housing, educating children and accessing healthcare. Aid agencies report that when they educate and empower women, entire communities are transformed and future generations are positively impacted.
Socially, gender-based violence is said to be the greatest public health crisis for women in the world today. Thirty per cent of women worldwide experience intimate partner violence, rape is often used as a tactic of war, female genital mutilation is on the rise in some countries, acid attacks, honour killings, breast ironing, bride burnings, and domestic violence are all of increasing concern. Forced prostitution, trafficking of girls and women, child brides and sexual objectification are further signs that we are a long way from an equal world.
The women suffering around our world are not mere numbers or statistics. Each one has a name, a voice, and the right to experience freedom and equality. They are somebody’s daughter, somebody’s loved one. They are precious people, with feelings, dreams, aspirations and emotions. They feel pain. They know the heaviness of sitting under oppression and experiencing injustice. And they deserve better than this.
These women are valuable. They have great worth, and they have every right to be fought for. Our ignorance may be our bliss as it allows us to avoid the discomfort that comes with acknowledging what some women experience, but for the many women sitting under the umbrella of inequality, our ignorance is not their bliss.
There is still much progress to come, and we each—men and women—have a part to play. For some of us, this involves challenging our own mind-sets, attitudes and theology when we consider women. For others, it means being proactive to become better informed about the issues women face. And for others, it’s about taking action, raising awareness, lobbying government, and supporting the advancement of women financially through aid organisations.
This International Women’s Day, let’s choose to inspire change. Let’s recognise the brave women who have inspired change in the past. Let’s celebrate the progress made. And—regardless of our own gender—let’s determine to strive for more, so that all women can experience the freedom they deserve.
Sammy
(As printed in The Salvation Army War Cry NZFT)

Thursday 27 February 2014

5 minute Friday - Choose


Choose. GO.

Every day I choose. I choose what to wear. I choose what to eat. I choose to get out of bed. And I choose to fight. Because there are so many who don’t get to choose. Because of where they were born, the family they were born into, their circumstance, they don’t face the same choices I face each day. Their choices are between life and death. And I can choose to be ignorant to the struggles others are facing each day, or I can choose to be informed, and I can choose to fight. On behalf of the marginalized, the oppressed, the ‘nobody’. 



Yesterday was the 27th of Feb, a day to remember and spark conversation about 27 million people in slavery around the world by marking our hands with an X and sharing stories on facebook and twitter with #enditmovement. A statement that we choose not to let this go on anymore. We choose to make a difference. We choose to see change in the world.


STOP. 


This post is a part of 5 minute Friday, where people all over the world write for five minutes flat inspired by the same word, and connect over Facebook and Twitter.

No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.
Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
It's not about writing a a perfect post, or a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.
So now on Fridays a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes.

Wednesday 5 February 2014

Tears, Memories, Regrets - Remembering a special Nana

Moses was 120 years old when he died. His eyesight was sharp; he still walked with a spring in his step. The People of Israel wept for Moses in the Plains of Moab thirty days. Then the days of weeping and mourning for Moses came to an end.” Deut 34:7-8

As I read this last night I was struck by the grief. That it was allowed for. It was ok. Sometimes we think we just have to hold it all together and be strong, to just get on with it. But it’s ok to stop, and weep and cry and mourn. To grieve. For days and days they grieved. Together. They wept.

Little did I know, when I read that last night, that today I would be grieving the loss of a precious Nana.

Today the world lost an amazing woman. A beautiful, kind, generous, selfless, strong, loving Woman.

And it’s overwhelming.

I was alone when the news came. It came as a shock and it came too soon. Way too soon.
The tears came fast and steady, and my mind filled with questions.

SO. MANY. QUESTIONS.

Breathing is an effort. Something so natural doesn't seem to be so natural at a time like this. It’s like the wind has been knocked out. Breathe.

Brenton arrives home with the kids. They enter cautiously. “Mum, are you sad?” “Are you sad cos your Nana’s died” “Are you sad mummy? A little bit sad or a big bit sad?” They cuddle me. Evy cuddles me for longer than usual.  Zac asks “Can we watch a movie?”

Brenton comes in and holds me. I sob. “Can we watch a movie Mummy?” Because in the grief, in the heartache. Life goes on. The kids still need to be fed. They still need our attention. I actually want the world to just stop. STOP! But it doesn't.  We have a meeting tonight, the last thing I feel like is a meeting.

I was going to bake a cake for tonight.

She taught me to bake. During the weekends spent at Nana’s and Granddads. Bananna cakes. And scones, the mixing had to be just right … not too much or it’d spoil them.

The memories begin to cascade. She taught me so much.

Colouring in between the lines. How to draw without tracing. How to sew. How to play droughts. How to bake a cake.

It’s in the oven now.

She was there. She was present. And when you were with her, it was like you were the most important person in the world. And as a child, she would get down and sit on the floor with me.

And she would defend me.

I knew I was loved.

She taught me blood wasn’t always thicker than water.
‘Step’ never ever came into the equation. Family. Pure and simple. I knew nothing else.

When Granddad died she made sure I had a moment alone with him. Shooing everyone out of the room to “Give Polly some time.” I’ll be forever grateful.

Polly. I don’t remember her calling me anything else. “I love you Polly.”

People will be arriving soon. Ah the meeting. We should postpone it till next week. The phone rings. It’s for me. I can’t talk right now, my voice wavers and breaks. Brenton talks. A friend offering love and support. Offering to visit. “Are you sure a meeting is a good idea?” Last nights scripture is repeating on me. We aren't sure, but we are going to meet anyway. Because this is family right? And grieving happens in community right?

She was there for my graduation. For my 21st.

Ahhh! My 21st. I made the dresses for my party with her guidance. If it was too tricky
 I’d ring her and she’d talk me through the process. Eventually I took them to her and she helped me complete them. She probably ended up making 90% of them.  

During my flatting days she’d join my flatmates, my mum and I for dinners out. Nights filled with hilarity as we talked “The birds and the bees.” Not the normal conversation between a grandmother and her granddaughter I’d imagine? So open. So honest.

At my engagement party, my wedding,  travelling to visit us when our first child was born. She’s been there.

And she was there in the in between times. When life was trucking along as usual and when it was hard. She was trustworthy. She would just listen. And then offer wisdom. Such wisdom. When I moved further away, she was just a phone call away, always ready to chat. And as I got older, she confided in me too. A deepening friendship.

So many memories.

And regret.

Regret that I text first, second and third instead of just showing up over Christmas, so I could see her and tell her how much I love her, how much she means to me, how her influence in my life has shaped me.

Regret that I didn't try harder.

Regret that I didn't try to call yesterday when it came to mind.

I had no idea what today held.

The cake is cooked and the kids are in bed. People are starting to arrive. They come in. Brenton starts the meeting and looks at me, we don’t tell them. Not yet. We go about business as usual. At times my eyes well, but I pull it together. The meeting draws to a close. I bring out the cake and it’s good.

Brenton shares the news. I cry. There is an empathetic sigh from those gathered. And we pray. I can’t quite pull the words together, but they pray for me. And they cry too.

They cry with me.

Tears.

They didn't even know her. They never ever meet her. I haven’t known these people for long enough to share much about her. But they sit here with me, they share my pain and they cry too.

This is family. Grieving together in community. She taught me so much, but if there’s one thing that stands out above it all tonight, the gift she’s left me with that’s most prominent, her legacy in my life; it’s that family is not defined by DNA.

It is so much more.

Nana, I’ll miss you. More than you’ll know I think. I love you, Polly xo










"God is striding ahead of you. He’s right there with you. 
He won’t let you down; he won’t leave you. 
Don’t be intimidated. Don’t worry.” 
Deut 31:8

“Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in him,
for he shields him all day long,
and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders.” 
Deut 33:12



Wednesday 1 January 2014

My Top 5's of 2013

Because I’m not done reflecting on 2013, here are some of my top 5’s from the year now gone.

Top 5 highlights

Weekend away with Brenton on an Alpha Marriage Retreat.
Evys adoption was finalised and we had her dedicated.
Her Freedom Song - a conference to challenge the injustices faced by women worldwide.
2 weeks of 24/7 prayer with our church family.
Participating in Central Easter Camp and Northern Youth Councils
Christmas in the Park at Timberlea (ok, 6! I couldn't narrow it down further!)

Top 5 songs of 2013 
These songs became prayers and themes during 2013. They inspired, encouraged and excited me! Click on the links and have a listen!







Top 5 Articles/Blogs I've read




The Pride of Busyness - Relevant Magazine



Top 5 Verses of Scripture 
This has been the hardest to narrow down, these particular verses have been incredibly poignant for me during 2013.

Hebrews 6:19
We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain”

Psalm 139:10
even there your hand will guide me,
    your right hand will hold me fast.

Lamentations 3:25
God proves to be good to the man who passionately waits,
    to the woman who diligently seeks.

2 Samuel 22:20
He stood me up on a wide-open field;
    I stood there saved—surprised to be loved!

1 Sam 1:10
"In her deep anguish Hannah prayed to the Lord, weeping bitterly."

Top 5 Quotes:

“Prayer does not fit us for the greater work, Prayer is the greater work” Oswald Chambers

“If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.” 
― Desmond Tutu

“Royalty is my identity, servanthood is my assignment, Intimacy with God is my lifesource” Unknown

“No man [or woman] is greater than his prayer life. The pastor who is not praying is playing; the people who are not praying are straying. We have many organizers, but few agonizers; many players and payers, few pray-ers; many singers, few clingers; lots of pastors, few wrestlers; many fears, few tears; much fashion, little passion; many interferers, few intercessors; many writers, but few fighters. Failing here, we fail everywhere.” Leonard Ravenhill

“Don’t let them get you down. Be cheeky, Be wild, Be wonderful.” Pippi Longstockings


So so thankful for an amazing year! Let’s do another one!