The Persistence of Life

Hello friend!

Pull up a chair, grab a cuppa. For myself, I have a mug of my favourite peach tea.

Today, I'm going back to sharing what I'm grateful for. Yay for nothing major happening! Anyway, stick with me, because this is awesome!

So, a few months ago, I decided to plant some irises. I bought a packet of seeds and buried them in soil. The next day, I was given a bucket of uprooted irises from a different part of our garden. I replanted some of them, but left a few in the bucket. The intention was for those to die and then I'd compost them.

Except, that didn't happen.

Instead the plants in the bucket continued to thrive. When I went out to check on them all a week ago, I noticed something peculiar: one of the bucket irises had a bud on it! I checked the others: none of them had buds. Just this one plant that had been abandoned to die.

It took my breath away! The persistence of this plant, in continuing to grow and flower even though it wasn't planted in soil and it hadn't been watered in months! It was awe inspiring.

Not long afterwards, I was out to lunch with my grandparents. We were watching a flock of seagulls when one of them landed on the table next to us. We looked, then looked again in surprise: the seagull had only one leg!

I snapped a photo of it as soon as I could, then spent a solid five minutes watching this bird as it flew faster than all the others. It stole chips from tables when the others didn't dare come near. This one-legged bird was filled with sass and courage. And for the second time that day, I found myself wondering at the persistence of life.

And as I thought of this, I was reminded of these verses from Luke 12: 24-28

Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you then the birds! And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? If then you are not able to do as small a thing as that, why are you anxious about the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothed the grace, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith!

Now, this has not miraculously cured my anxiety. And if you struggle with anxiety, please don't hear me say that you are somehow wrong, or less, or especially sinful. Anxiety, the kind I'm refering to anyway, is an actual medical disorder. It is part of the result of us being broken humans living in a broken world. God knows we are only dust (Psalm 103:14). I believe He understands the very real, battle with anxiety we face.

What I am saying, however, is that ultimately we can trust God. He is the God that sustains an unplanted iris and brings it to flower. He is the God that strengthens and feeds a one-legged seagull. He is the God who cares for us, in the most adverse of circumstances. Sometimes, that will mean dancing again after years of debilitating illness. Sometimes that will mean surviving overdose. And sometimes it will mean He decides to end our suffering by taking us home.

Whatever happens, we can be sure that God cares for us, and true life will persist in spite of every horror the world can through our way. Including death.

So, friends, please be encouraged. Please look to the Cross and the Resurrection: the promise and proof of forgiveness of sins, and life everlasting.

With love,
Laura Dee

Trust and Fear: Mutually Exclusive?

A couple of weeks ago, I told the first half of my adventure of running out of petrol. This week, I bring to you the stunning conclusion!

So, Dad came back with rope and tied my car to his. He then told me how this was going to work and got back into his car.

I took a couple of deep breaths, and then let myself and my car be pulled.

Let me tell you, it was one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of my life. All I could do was press on the brake and turn the wheel. And even that was limited. I was totally at the mercy of my dad's driving. I was so not in control.

We maneuvered the streets of Penrith, me following my dad's lead and trying not to freak out too much. Trying not to concentrate on the fact that my car was being pulled along by a rope and that there was no margin for error.

It's not that I didn't trust my dad. Quite the contrary - I was putting more active trust in him than I had since I was very, very young. This time, for the first time in a very long time it was my life on the line. And I let him lead. I obeyed every direction he gave me. It was a combination of not having another option and knowing my dad would get me there safely.

And I did. I knew Dad wouldn't take unnecessary risks. I know he wouldn't put my life in danger.

But that didn't stop me from being scared. Terrified, even.

I had to remind myself a couple of times that yes, I was not in control, but that was OK, Dad was and I could trust him.

Then, even as my hands gripped my steering wheel and my foot hovered over my brakes, I had to laugh.

Because isn't that all of life? Especially as a Christian? We know we're not in control of our own lives. We have to actively choose to trust God, even though we don't know where we're turning next. Even though we can't know what's going to happen.

And it was the first time I'd realized, properly realized, that trust and fear are not mutually exclusive.

For a long time, I have believed, on whatever level, that if I truly trusted God, I would not be afraid. I would not be anxious. After all, the Bible often talks about us not being afraid, God has got this. And so, especially over this last year or so, I have felt shame that I was afraid. That I was struggling with the uncertainty of my life. I have wondered if that means I don't have faith, or if my trust is weak.

And there was an enormous sense of freedom when I realised what was happening on the road that day. When I realised that yes, I was afraid. Yes, the uncertainty was making my heart race. But no, that did not mean I did not trust my dad. In fact, I was trusting him more than I ever had. I was letting him take control and direct me in spite of all my fears. I was fighting back against them.

And I laughed when I realised that applied to my relationship with God as well. Yes, I am afraid. Yes, the uncertainty is making my heart race. No, that does not mean I don't trust him. I am trusting Him now more than I have for a while. I am letting Him take control and direct in spite of all my fears. And that's what counts.

God does not hold my fear against me, anymore than my dad did. He knows who I am. He remembers that I am made of dust. What matters to Him is that I continue to trust Him to bring me safely home, that I continue to obey His directions for my life, even - especially - in those times when I am acutely aware that I am not in control.

A Difficult Fortnight

Hello friend!

Right now, I'm wishing I could tell you that the last fortnight had been amazing, through up a few pictures and be done. However, that would not be honest. So, I'll proceed instead with the truth.

This fortnight has been terrible.

The first week didn't feel so bad. At least, I didn't notice it being particularly bad at the time. Sure, I want sleeping so well, sure I was wanting to cry at random times for unknown reasons, and sure it was getting harder and harder to get out of bed, but, you know, the week before was busy. I thought I was just tired.

That Saturday, a friend of mine came for lunch. That was good fun, but as soon as he left, I crawled into bed and barely managed to get out to feed myself.

The next morning, Sunday, I woke up feeling slightly better. Yay! I'd turned a corner. You may or may not have noticed this, but I'm very good at fooling myself. My mood and my energy kept plummeting, until at about 12:45, I was so over everything, that I swallowed two dozen aspirin.

Yep, I overdosed. Intentionally.

To be clear, the overdose was not a suicide attempt. I was just tired, stressed, wanting a break, wanting to hurt myself and in such a bad place that overdosing seemed the way to do it. The amount I took was not a lethal amount. Still, in the spirit of total honesty, if something had gone wrong, if I had died, I would not have been sorry.

Fortunately, one of my housemate rushed me to the hospital, where I was taken care of. I didn't even have to spend the night. My mum came to visit the next day, and I've spent the week visiting professionals and spending time with friends who looked after me.

Still, I had a horrible night on Thursday, and ended up with drawings all the way up my left arm (a thing I do instead of cutting). Friday morning, my head was a mess, my emotions were a mess and I was exhausted. I went to see the people I was scheduled to see, before collapsing on a friend's trampoline with a book and a rabbit.

I slept much better last night, and enjoyed a slow day, a picnic and a walk in a park. The worst complaint I have right now is a headache and tiredness.

So, before I finish, I want to mention some of the things I'm grateful fur this week:
The rabbit.
Flowers.
Friends who have been praying for me.
Friends who have cooked for me.
Friends who have given me room to speak and try to start processing the overdose.
My generous housemates.
My family.
And, more than anything, God's love and grace.

 The meantime, thank you! And if you are of the praying kind, I'd really appreciate some prayer!

Laura Dee
xox