Beyond the Edge of Adventure

Our new neighbours have moved in. It's Mr Don and his wife. Mr Don is an elderly Italian man who has lived in Australia a long time. He has a thick accent. He swears a lot. His builder didn't exactly do the right thing about him. Mr Don LOVES to talk. And talk. He has a gruff exterior, but actually is very generous and kind. At first I didn't like him much. He just would come up to our house and bail Ben up for 40 minutes or so, giving his opinion on everything from fence building to the government. He took a bucket of water every so often (even after we moved in!) to water his plants - which was fine, but he didn't even ask! Then, he asked Ben to look after his ride-on mower. This was an absolute God-send because our little push mower died after mowing our 1-acre block only twice. Ben helped Mr Don move house. And I found that Mr Don didn't mind it if you kept working away while he talked, just as long as you were listening! Lately, I've become much more

So. The other day I learned how far I have come since my last time struggling with anxiety. I was shocked to discover that I hadn't progressed one single centimetre from that horrible place. Not one . It was like a switch that transported me instantly back in time to almost three years ago when I would lie down for afternoon rest time with trepidation and most days I would be terrified to move because all I could think about was harming myself. When everything seemed to be such a big effort. Making dinner. Grocery shopping. Putting my feet on the floor first thing in the morning. Hugging my children. When I would have moments of really bad dejavu where my head would swim and my limbs would go hot and tingly and I couldn't stand up straight until it was over. Then I'd be even more tired. When I would be so ridiculously tired from being heavily pregnant with my fourth baby and coping with all that was placed on my head and my heart yet still unable to fall asleep at

This is a conversation that my husband had with Neve (2 years old) the other night when she was being put to bed before her big sister came in for their nightly game of I-Spy. D (Dad): OK, Neve, you go first. N (Neve): I-pie wid mah kdslnjg gnoisdgh gidhsdhgsdg wiiiiit bed-bear! (I-Spy with my little eye something beginning with bed-bear, her cuddly bed friend). D: Bed-bear? N: Yes! D: OK, my turn. I-Spy with my little eye something beginning with 'N'. It's a part of your body (tapping his nose as a clue) N: Ummmm......(looking around) D: It's a part of your body. You smell with it! (tapping Neve's nose now) N: Ummmmm.......(looking around) D: It's a part of your body. Starts with nnnnnn.... N: Ummmm........NOSE! D: YES! (relief) OK, your turn Neve N: I-pie wid mah kjoijo weoijodshg ghoihsdoigh wiiiiit bed-bear! D: Bee? N: Nooooo D: Ummm...ball? N: Nooooo D: Bed-bear? N: YES! Precious.

This song is making me think. About 'clearing the stage' and letting God take first place. I feel like lately my life has been clouded with heavy concerns about our nation and our communities. I've been buried deep in working towards solutions towards my dietary issues. I've been so hard at work working for God, my family and myself, that those things have become idols. I want to clear the stage. Put God first and let everything else in my life fall in place in His wake.