Pauseforamoment

My heart is so full at the moment with all the Lord has been doing in us. It goes without saying that we had an amazing time on so many levels. I feel so honoured that God has allowed us to be a part of these people’s lives. Like nothing else they have caused me to look beyond my Western materialism* and Western Christianity to see a bigger picture about the nature of God’s love and Who He is. I am in awe of this Father that we serve.

I know that I have been evasive about what we have gone through over the last few years, and I still don’t feel right about sharing it all. I’m sure some have figured it out and that is ok. I just know that out of deep pain comes deep deliverance and seeing the Father work out a high and painful calling. It is often through suffering that we learn obedience and trust, and it is all worth it if we allow the work to mould us into His image. I know that all things work together for good for those who are called according to His purpose. It is a special thing if these words move from just being words to becoming manifest in our hearts and lives. It is a process becoming the Word not just proclaiming the word.

On some deep level the Lord has worked a healing in me. I know I still have a long way to go, but something started last week as I reached out and ministered to others, and I want to allow Him to finish this work. I had to step out, once again, into preaching and teaching and He met me where I was. I know that He imparted something through me into the Cambodians – not through my strength but all His. With obedience comes great fulfillment.

Though they are just normal people like you and I, with the usual struggles and hopes and dreams and desires, the Cambodians bring something special to my heart. I love that they live a life of prayer, not in a religious way, but in a natural, heartfelt way, out of the overflow of gratitude and honour to their Father. They will pray anywhere and at any time.

Their worship is just beautiful. Even the children light up with joy as the music starts, and it doesn’t take much to get everyone dancing and singing. They worship with abandonment, not caring about sound so much but about throwing out praise from every pore to a Father who has rescued them. There are no conditions to their worship.

They have smiles that light up the world. Every time we came to the church (where a number of families live, too) they would smile until I thought their faces would split. All the children come running and they greet you with such enthusiasm. One feels like the most important person on earth. When we left, they stood by the airport window (only travellers allowed inside) and moved along as we went through the check-in process (lots of different stations), smiling and waving each time we caught their eyes, and finally, waved until we were upstairs, just out of sight. Everyone who could came to wave goodbye, on a motorbike or a tuk-tuk or on a bike. They ooze love.

They are generous – with time, with love, with kindness, with food. They are incredibly grateful for anything we give.

We were quite busy and I believed we achieved some good things in terms of growing the church and its believers. Once I found my groove, I absolutely loved bringing the word to them. We shared the teaching load and covered all kinds of areas, including sonship, authority, team work, building the house of God, serving and so on. We had the opportunity to pray for several sick people, and I can’t think of one person who wasn’t healed. My God is awesome.

One very special blessing was being able to spend nine days with my husband. We became best friends, again, and such a deep, deep bond was formed. I cherish these precious memories we share. We had so much fun in Singapore, too. He laid down his loathing for shopping and spent hours with me in this activity. He is my hero! I miss him terribly today as he is back at work.

I know there will still be some processing of our time away over the next few days. I can feel the pressure to allow a sense of ‘let-down’ to dominate right now, as we ease back into our normal lives, and I am guarding my heart against this. I am praying that the Father will bring this work to completion, and that it will all be to His glory.

He is good and very good.

* I do hold the opinion that we are not more holy the less we have. I see nothing wrong with having nice things and a nice home, but I do see something wrong with these things holding more value for us than God and people.

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Today we have been married for three years. I can scarcely remember the time we were not married; my life is so full and rich and complete with him and I am so thankful to have him by my side.

He loves me completely; I am in awe of how much. We have grown together past the fluff and bubble of the first romantic flush, delicious though that feeling is. Our love is deeper, richer, stronger and I believe we have found deep places in each other and have bound our hearts together more tightly.

We believe in one another; he brings out the best in me not just through his love but through his probing of my heart, his leadership and the strength that God has put in him.

I know that my love and humour and ability to find laughter through the pain has brought healing and strength in him. I have never been one to keep my mouth shut, although I am learning wisdom in this, and I believe it has done good things in him. Neither of us are content with being average. We know that destiny comes through perseverance and persistance, and we will not let the other give in to character weaknesses. I value that. This is a love that transcends emotion and is growing into something deep and strong.

I love that although we are celebrating our anniversary with a Japanese meal, our focus at present is far more on our ministry in Cambodia next week. He has to work late, and will probably be tired tonight, but that is ok. We are romantic, but focussed, and have learnt that true romance is always tempered with reality. Romance comes not through the celebration, but through those moments of giving, loving, serving one another, putting the other first.

I am so happy to be with him.

Last night hubs and I went here for dinner. We had to book quite a while back, and needed to use a voucher we were given early this year, and the evening coincidently falls close to our anniversary, next week. We will go out then, too, but not as fancypants as Jackson’s.

I wanted to write about it because it turned out to be such a funny evening. I, of course, took photos of all the food, because I am addicted to interesting food. Unfortunately it was a bit too dark for the pictures to work with my phone camera. After the glass of Veuve, I started with green pea soup, with crispy egg and Iberica ham. It was delicious, and amazing looking, as always.

For the main course, we both wanted to try the pigeon breast, and had a minor scuffle over who would get to order it (we like to get different dishes so we can taste each other’s food). The other option we both liked was the duck. I won, the pigeon came to me. I’ve never tried pigeon before.

Well, the plate arrived and there was this bird. It was sectioned, but the two little legs were sticking up on either side of the plate, with the claw-like feet still attached.

But wait, there’s more.

Above the feet and breast was the head, with the beak and the little eyes closed. I’m not sure what my face did, but I knew immediately I could not eat this dish. I have this weird thing where I can actually think myself sick, and the strangest things can set it off, like a smell that no-one else finds unusual. I could feel myself starting to shudder, and my lovely husband immediately swapped plates with me, even though the duck dish looked completely delectable.

It was.

It was bathed in a delicious orange sauce (Cointreau) and tiny bright green broad beans scattered on the plate. It was amazing, as Jackson’s food always is. The pigeon dish, however, was unusual. We both love to experiment with new flavours, but despite the truffles, the flavour was – strange. I don’t think we will repeat this menu choice.

After a while, we started making jokes that probably only we will find funny. Even today, when we saw a bird, we would both crakc up as we thought of those little legs pointing skywards and that head!

Dessert was amazing – truffle icecream with raspberry and dark chocolate-filled spring rolls. Another Jackson’s winner.

We declined coffee, stuffed to the gills and came home to recline on the sofa, watching some of the opening ceremony.

Tonight I am cooking for our Mus1im friends. We’re having lamb shanks cooked in white wine with a hint of orange and cinnamon for five hours, roasted smash potatoes, green beans, and baked chocolate fondants for pudding.

Not quite pigeon (with legs and head) but I think it should be nice.

Google search which brought up my blog:

undies undies undies bathers budgie smug

Weird.

I’m pausing in my guilty rush of chores to provide some commentary on the sad state of real estate in this part of the world. We would like to buy a house sometime in the (near) future, but things are pretty grim around here. Although the market is falling, it is still pretty much unattainable for first home buyers, unless you have a massive outlay of funds to begin with. I spend some time every day perusing the market and seeing what the prices are around the place.

We did some sums last night. (Say that seven times, quickly.) If we were to purchase a $400 000 house right now (ha ha! Good luck finding a house at this price. The median house price in Perth is $450 000, and that is a very, very average home in an average suburb.) at 10% interest, we would be paying off $40 000 a year in interest payments. That’s $800 per week, and we haven’t even touched the principal yet. If prices stay the same, that means we lose $40 000 per year. Someone was telling me that renting was dead money – but while we fork out $350 a week for our little shoebox, it is a lot less than $800 out of which we gain nothing. We’re going to stay in this position until the market starts to shift. It makes good financial sense.