Soap for Jesus

There's a hole in my heart that cannot heal. Most of the time, I'm running. I'm learning to run with a smile, now. God is, slowly but surely, teaching me to find joy in every circumstance; to see His blessing Hand throughout the sadness. There's one problem I'm still having, though. It's learning to praise Him for the pain. I can thank Him for using the pain - and have, even to using the loss of the one I loved most, for I watched Him do it even as I lost him. I run from pain. Hate it. And now I'm running from him. From every single memory that he was ever in. I reconstruct my life and future without him, focusing on keeping busy, being productive, serving God. But the hole is there. And I run. It's harder than it should be to store everything away. When Taylor told me that to break free of the darkness and despair, I had to love, I randomly picked someone and tried to love them with God's love because I felt I had to. I didn't realise...

It's beautiful. The cross. It's symbolic. It's pain and it's agony and it's separation from God and reunion with God. It's suffering and dying and it's healing and life. Pain comes to all of us. Sometimes in the worst ways. Like when God asks us to sacrifice the nearest and dearest thing or person we love. "God, I surrendered!" "Then let go." "But You might not bring them back!" "I know. Trust Me." Tears. Pain. Agony. Surrender. Peace. Beauty. Beautiful tears and joyful sobbing in the torment. Because He is God and He is the master of the paradox and He can make it so. I looked up at my colleague Charlotte. Both of us had delayed lunch breaks, due to the length of the survey we were on, before lunch was called. We were talking about my trip to the USA, and then ended up on our differing beliefs. Oh! It started with my ink writing on my arm and wrist: "Espérance - Hope", "Love end...

I was wondering what to post for my 20th birthday blog post. And...I'd like to share this. From my heart again. ;) "Janey, I'd like to ask prayer for healing for your eczema. Would that be okay?" Laura asked, keeping her arm around me. I nodded. "Sure, why not." My family didn't raise me to believe in commanding diseases to leave the body, but I understood that it was done still with the acknowledgement God may not choose to grant it, but the belief that until proved otherwise, He had. Laura caught the main guy's attention and asked him to pray. "Sure!" He moved over to me. Laura had slipped her arms around me again, and my remaining OYAN siblings moved in as a circle around me. "You be the point of contact." He placed his hand on Laura's shoulder and prayed for complete healing of my body. Then he placed on his hand on my head, commanding the eczema to leave my body in the Name of Jesus. What followed next w...

You know the ink tattoos. Some people like them, some people regard it as too near the real thing to not be almost a sin. I'm not debating, but I do partial compromise. :P On days when I need to remember stuff, I'll use my arm as a piece of paper. It's far less likely (hopefully!) to get lost than paper is! Some things one needs to remember are dates, times, places, to-do items. Other times - it's a simple Biblical truth. If you remember, one of my favourite recent ones has been "Love Endures Everything". For the purposes of this blog, we'll narrow it down and say that there are two kinds of love. Sentimental romantic love, based off feelings and emotional spurts, and true love, based off something much deeper. The first type is what most of today's early marriages are made off, and that is why there are so many divorces. People promise for better or for worse, and when the tough times come and attempt to tear them apart, it's easily done because t...

To those who requested it: herein lieth the letter I wrote at age 15 and 9 months to an imaginary future son. March 4th, 2008 To my dear eldest son, Scott David, Your mother is only fifteen, nearly sixteen as she writes this letter to you. I am foolish, and don't know much, but I thought I should like to write a letter to the boy who, perhaps, will one day be my son. Maybe you will come to me through adoption, maybe through the sweet-bitter joy of giving birth, and maybe you will always stay - a child of my imagination. I wonder what it will be like to look down on a tiny baby face, or perhaps that of a young boy, and say, "My son!" My heat seems to thrill as it whispers the words. I wonder what you will look like. Will you have golden hair, black hair, brown hair or my red hair? Perhaps it will be as vivid as mine. Will your eyes be blue, grey, green, brown, hazel or a mix of two or several? Still, that will not matter as long as you are strong and healthy and what God...

Moments before running back downstairs to make tea (yes, the meal) and then go to my sister's to read the Bible together, I take time to stop and briefly write my joy. Mom and I just pulled three boxes out of the garage, as I start moving onto my books after sorting my clothes. How can I tell you of my joy at seeing my treasures? For the first time in six months, I pulled my books out and caressed each cover - hardback, softback, shiny, smooth, rough, plain, decorated, cloth, plastic, laminate... You who love books! My fellow writers and book lovers. Can you imagine what it is to have the sounds of the Tudors, the echoes of the World Wars, surround you after six months absence from almost any literature? One of the hardest things of this enforced absence has to be the zero access to my books. With delight, I open a cover and inhale the scents...musky, dusty, old, new, inky...how familiar, and how long it has been. Some of you will remember that I had two wall length sh...

A conversation with a friend earlier revealed some rather home-hitting truths about the perspective of love's place in life. You know, it's funny....one can be respected and admired by many different people but without a word from the person who means the most to you, it still doesn't take the ache away. And writing that, I realise where the problem lies.... God has to mean the most to me. He has called me His beloved. His wife. His daughter. Treasured. Precious. And so, starving, hurting, I HAVE to go to the only One who can fulfill that need. God also gave us the desire to be wanted by that one special person, yes, and I know He did. But until it's His timing to be fulfilled, He wants us to turn that desire towards Him. He will fill it if we trust Him. Wrap us in His love and ease the pain. And...and He wants us to make Him the centre of our lives. Especially our love lives. Is the desire for a partner wrong, if you're not letting it consume you? I think th...

I didn't write this song. It's Don Francisco's. But right now, it says what I want to say more perfectly than I could if I tried. When the weariness sets in - turn to God. When it seems easier to turn away; no matter the hurt - carry on in His strength. When the heart cries it can't do any more, take the next step forward in the supernatural almighty Hand of God.

Sparkie and I had a conversation this morning. It went something like this. Sparkie: *rolls over* Woof? Me: *starts to tickle his tummy* I'm. SO. MAD. Sparkie: *big brown eyes* Me: I don't NEED this on top of everything else! Sparkie: Woof. Me: I don't like loving people. It hurts. Sparkie: *puts paw on my cheek and closes eyes* A quiet voice in my heart: But love is forgiving. Seventy times seven. Me: I don't care! I care about someone and THIS is what happens! Voice: They forgave you. Me: But it was easier for them to forgive me! I have a RIGHT to be mad! Voice: Since when did you have rights? Love has no right. Love lays itself down daily and sacrifices all. It loves where there is no love. It forgives to the death. It has NO RIGHTS. When you learn to follow Jesus, you surrender all to Him. Your life. Your ways. Your thoughts. Your choices. Your actions. Your will. And your rights. Rights has to be one of the hardest things to go. The human will is forever standing u...

I told you I'd introduce you to my latest pet! Please to meet Harry Kyle Hound. He was my Uncle Robert's late Christmas present to me, and since I've had him, he rarely leaves my side. He gives me all the affection I want, (almost :P) and is SO warm and soft and cuddly! I should be bringing him with me to the States, God willing, so you'll all get to meet the Queen's pet puppy! This is my favourite position with him:

I am cleaning out the chickens, bending over the chipboard floor, cleaning off the muck and disinfectant with a few scraps of kitchen towel. My MP3 plays out John Waller's "While I'm Waiting". Suddenly, I hear Dad calling my name and look up, removing one earplug from my ear. A horrendous racket hits my ear from some loudspeaker. Dad, grimly: It's Arabic. Me: It can't be!! It's Sunday, not Friday! I run to the fence and look over the next two gardens to the street, then turning my head to the right so I can catch a little more of it. I listen, intent. The Church of St. Peter's is chiming its bells. It is 10am. At first I think it could be someone driving around speaking the Gospel, since it is Sunday morning, and I cannot distinguish any words. Then I hear a slur on a sentence and I have no doubt. The accent is too clear. I turn to Dad: Why? Dad: Either because it's Sunday, or they could be calling out to their comrades because of what's going ...

This following chat was used by permission. The first block text from my cadet "Lee" is a text from his girlfriend. Both of these are real-life 'adopted' siblings and fellow cadets. (6:24:26 PM) Sian Jones: Lee? *gently* (6:28:36 PM) Lee: "Lee I have been thinking an awful lot about my life and I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship long term I am so sorry I will always love you but I am not ready I have a lot of things going on in my life and I can’t juggle school, family life, course work and a relationship all at the same time. I don’t want it to end but I’m not ready for anything yet. can we be good friends please I don’t want to do this but I am thinking of my future I am so sorry it’s not you it’s me I promise I’m not just saying it but I need some time to think xxx I know I am probably hurting you right now and I’m sorry for all the pain I’m causing you and its hurting me to balance everything right now xxx I’m sorry xxxx don’t be sad don’t hurt yourse...

Some of you might like to see an update of my beautiful little niece... Here she is at the age of three months! She can: Gurgle baby coos, Smile, Laugh, Support her own head (was doing that at two weeks), Roll over, Attempt to sit up alone, Attempt to stand up. My twin brother Jose and I, with Ayanna in the mirror. The photos to the left are Jose and I as children. :) Ayanna and me, again in the mirror. Ayanna, her Mom - my sister Sam - and me. :D A little blurred, but Ayanna smiling. :D

I was showing one of my brothers some photos the other day. He passed comment on one, saying how much younger I looked - I was 16, almost 17. I replied, "That was before Andy and the bad websites." He said, "Ah, that makes sense." It lead to a curiosity - how much have I changed, going through the past twelve months? I saw my own face harden and start to soften again... Watch my eyes in the next few minutes, and tell me. Have I changed? When going through some trouble at the Squadron, before anything - and I - changed. Roughly August/September '09. Given my heart away: Andy, cadet Stephen C and I: My twin brother and I, the same day: February, three months after Andy left and one month before I saw him again for the last time: Then cadet Lucy T. and I, when we were friends: At the Bower Parade: During and after the websites: During - June 26th. I got involved a few days before my 18th birthday. When I was nearing the end of my involvement: By the way, my photo o...

Skyping earlier with a girl friend of mine, who recently broke off a developing close friendship with a mutual guy friend, lead to some serious thinking. She didn't break off with him because she was attracted to him or was in danger of losing her heart to him. She did it simply because he was a boy, and she was a girl, and she didn't think she should be that close to a guy. And yes, this principle hurts. I know. I've been through it, and still am. No, I'm not condemning people's consciences. I'm simply expressing my own thoughts. My ideal of a perfect world is where there aren't stupid blocks because of gender. The world starts off attempting to start children at age 3 with treating boys like potential boyfriends and partners in illicit behaviour. Christians tend to go to one of two extremes; throw up a barrier that blocks practically all but the barest minimum of communication between boys and girls, or else behave in a manner that's cheaper than the w...

Thinking about whether to flick the central heating on...but my sister says it's already too warm. I'm freezing though, sitting here curled up on the posh mauve pink chair in my fluffy baby pink dressing gown over my schoolgirl pinafore. Ooh, aren't there some dressing gowns you adore! I guess I'm sitting here scribbling for lack of motivation to do anything. I mean, I need to doctor some photos, write a story, write a poem on snow, and write other blogs with more meaning. Just in a lazy mood and not doing it. :P My baby niece, Ayanna, is lying in front of me, asleep on her bouncing chair. I am balanced on the edge of the seat with one foot on the wire edging, ready to start rocking again if she stirs (which is occurring every few minutes!). My sister lies huddled up to my right on our sofa bed, asleep; exhausted by long feeds, very little sleep, stress and depression. On the final Friday of my two-week sojourn at my sister's to help her round the house and provide ...

Copying this from my Buzz. Getting involved with flirtations to get out of pain. 1 - It's extremely selfish. When you get so introverted you're only focusing on getting the benefits of a relationship to hide from pain, it's selfish. But you're too introverted to see it. 2 - It's like dope. A happiness drug. For the momentary highs of it, you keep doing it. 3 - It gets you involved in a whirlwind that you don't have to think about. 4 - It keeps you searching for the one true thing that will stop you searching that you never find. (Only Christ can fulfill). 5 - It teaches you to stay distant from true love (only sourced in God).

Beleaguered with requests for photos, and having made promises to one or two people to blog on her - ie, Nick Holley and Jay Lauser , here is my promise fulfilled. I started on her birthday - November 10th, 2010, at 8:15pm. :P I finish today, the 22cd, at 1:00pm Smiling a little, I leaned down, tucking the quilt around my mother and kissing her cheek goodnight. Even as I silently moved across the room to tug off the lightswitch, she was still talking; drowsy, mumbling her words, but still talking. I've not seen Mom so verbal in ages. Although she was lacking 36 hours sleep, as soon as she had eaten her day-old homemade, reheated soup and drunk a cup of steaming, fragrant coffee, she sat there for ten minutes describing in vivid detail the birth of her latest grandchild - her first granddaughter. More amazing for me, I was sitting there with an inane grin spread over my face, highly excited over the recital, instead of landing in a heap on the floor! (I am useless with blood and gut...

Sitting in the car on the way to church yesterday, mulling over what was going on between my best friend and I, I was scrolling up and down through my MP3 player list. I listened to Judy Rogers' "Angel Face" - Angel face, you cannot serve two masters. Angel face, the world will leave you cold and alone! Angel face, you're headin' for disaster; Can't you hear your Father callin'? "Angel face, come back home." I unwillingly, yet with longing, played Michael Card's "I Have Decided" - There's a wealth of things that I professed Or said that I believed. But deep inside I never changed - I guess I've been deceived. And a voice inside kept telling me That I'd change by and by. But the Spirit made it clear to me - That kind of life's a lie! I have decided I'm gonna live like a believer, Turn my back on the deceiver, Gonna live what I believe. I have decided Being good is just a fable; I just can't cause I'm not a...

WARNING: EXTREME ADULT CONTENT AHEAD. IF YOU ARE YOUNGER THAN 16, IT IS ADVISED THAT YOU DO NOT READ FURTHER. This shot into my head earlier. I don't really know why, but after a nightmare last night, followed by a hint from the co-authored book Raraavis/Shayna and I are doing with the problems I am working on with several friends right now, I think that's probably the reason. Those titles in the headline must have caught your attention. I confess, they were rather a strain to think of. Because the original title in my mind was "Stripper". Shocking, ja? Yeah, instant recoil off all of you. I can see it right now. Don't judge yet. My story idea is as follows. A young and pretty Jewish girl gets arrested and carted off to the camps. During the selection process, she is taken by the officers to serve as a whore for them. She fights to survive physically, although dead within. After the war, she is treated as an outcast by all of her people, and, refused a job, resort...