Choosing Joy

If there's one thing our present age pushes, one agenda everyone seems to get behind it's this, "Do what makes you happy." Here's my opinion on the matter. Forgive me in advance for being blunt... It's a bunch of crap. Please, don't fall for this lie!

I get so angry when I see or hear this, not because I want everyone to be as grumpy as the Grinch, no! On the contrary, I want people to choose Joy.

What's the difference?

The Happy motto says if you aren't happy with what you're doing with your life, your marriage, your job, etc, then get out of it! Get a divorce, change jobs, travel the world.

Joy's motto is to find the jewels amongst the junk and keep persevering as you climb the mountain. Hold on to tenacity and keep adventuring.

Joy is the silver lining in a world full of dark gloomy clouds.

There are many things in my life I could get really angry about, and honestly, I have. I've pounded my keyboard in frustration, filled the silence of my house with the most dramatic bawling sessions ever and even told my closest family and friends, "I give up!" I get close too.

I tell myself I'm done with a certain situation, that those people are gonna know how I REALLY feel. And I pound the keys to write them a monologue of rage. But then, surprisingly enough, Joy stops me. That saucy little minx!

Just when I've worked myself up Joy tells me to find the silver lining in my situation and hold on until the clouds roll away.

Once a few years ago, I was hanging laundry in my back yard, something I LOVE to do (can you hear the sarcasm?) and as I grabbed the next peg the sky went dark. I grumbled quietly to myself and bickered to God about how inconvenient it would be if it rained. But in my stubbornness, I kept pegging my clothes and willed the sky to brighten.

At some point during my rant, I heard that still small voice tell me to "Look up". I did and what I saw was very disorienting.

When it had grown dark, I'd imagined the whole sky full of clouds, but I'd never actually looked up, I just ranted to God and kept pegging my clothes. When I finally did glance up all that had happened was one small, dark cloud had stepped right in front of the sun, blocking its brightness from the world around me.

I was speechless.

I'd taken a molehill and turned it into a mountain.

This little story is a constant reminder to me that regardless of my situations, or how dark I think my world is getting, especially now in light of the coronavirus. I have no idea how big or small the cloud really is but I know that turning into a rage monster about it isn't going to do anyone any good.

Life is tough. Situations suck, there are times we must mourn and cry. Times where we're facing on expansive sky of dark, boiling clouds, but I guarantee you, there is still Joy to be found. 

Regardless of how big the storm there's still a silver lining because God is still good. 

I recently came across this verse, "... and, like a strong man, runs its course with joy." (Ps. 19:5b, emphasis mine) It got me thinking ... Choosing the road of Happiness is for the weak. It takes a strong man to run a race and still be joyful at the end. 

Maybe I'm taking this verse out of context, but the principle still applies. I've volunteered at enough Ironman Marathons to know how much strength it takes for the winner to still raise their arms and smile in victory. I've seen competitors less than a mile away from the finish line have to stop because their muscles physically won't cooperate anymore. 

Choosing Joy is not for the faint of heart, but it's what God calls us to do. Weeping may last for the night, but His Joy does come in the morning and most importantly we must realize and know it's His Joy that gives us the strength to carry on and keep moving forward.

Recently, I was visiting one of the oldest castle ruins in Scotland. It hugs the coast of Loch Ness and has thousands and thousands of untold stories about the people and events that went on there. At one point the place was sacked by those living there to keep it from being a home and defense for the enemy. 

As I was taking in this ancient place, searching the dark waters of the loch for Nessie and pondering where life has taken me, I found myself starting to worry about many things. Covid-19, a visa situation in a land I've called home for 12 years and the possibility of not being allowed to live there anymore -- what would that mean for my future, where was my future, and what even am I doing with my life -- were all questions that started to pile up in my head. 

I didn't want to think about such things in this beautiful place but I couldn't stop myself. Then I heard that gentle voice tell me to turn around. I'd been focused on the distant horizon, where the sky met the distant shore in golden rimmed clouds, it was beautiful and terrifying, but what lay behind me was what God wanted me to see.

When I turned, I saw a brilliant rainbow arching over the castle ruins. It was magical. Complete with a breeze that whispered hope. Standing in this wildness, in the midst of the most gentle storm ever, God spoke to me with that rainbow. 

It was a promise.

A promise that no matter what life throws at me that He will be there. It's not that everything is going to be well, it's that even in the dark He will be there. It's like the Pevensie children when they asked about Aslan. 

It's not safe, but that there will be goodness in the wild.

Whatever difficulties you may be facing right now, I hope you cling to Jesus and choose Joy, because I know he'll lift you on to his shoulders, point to the roiling clouds with a twinkle in his eye and show you those hidden silver linings. 

Knowing this has changed my perspective of the storm. I get excited when I see it coming because I know my Papa God is gonna pull me closer, take me deeper, and I'll be a richer person because of this present struggle -- because even spiritual and mental muscles have to be strained in order to grow.

So, how about it ... you with me?

Christmas Stories & Fairytales

Once upon a time, I wrote a short story about a girl who wanted a Father because Father's are good at providing for their families and because the girl needed to be provided for. It was allegorical and fantastical in nature. The girl travels to Faerie and finds a Wish Box and wishes her father into existence.

I wrote it because I'd forgotten what my Heavenly Father was like as a Dad. I'd conformed to the world's idea and my relationship with Papa God was suffering for it. Especially in the area of provision.

It was winter in Alaska, and we were a couple weeks away from Christmas. I'd been lying in bed, complaining to God, when a sudden stirring filled me to write. It was already near midnight, but I crawled out of bed, and the comfort of warm blankets, pulled out a notebook and pen and began to write:

Ava watched the hail pound on the thin sheet of glass and wondered if the window would hold against the relentless assault. Far on the street below fairy lights danced in the storm, silent reminders of the Christmas season. Ava tucked herself back under the covers but couldn't lie still, the events of the day filled her young mind with worry.

Today, more than anything, she wished she had a Papa. The landlord had come and Ava heard him tell Mama that they needed to come up with this month's rent by next Friday or he’d be forced to have them evicted. She’d seen the look on Mama’s face and knew unless there was a miracle, they would be spending Christmas on the streets.

Within a short time, The Fairytale Child was finished, and I settled back under the covers, escaping the chill of the room, and fell into a deep slumber. Dreaming of my story and the revelations God had taught me in those wee hours about Him being a Father, especially one who provided for His children.

All this happened about fifteen years ago now. Strange to think I'm on a similar journey, and needing, yet again, another reminder that Papa God is a good provider. Funny how we sometimes have to learn things over and over again. I think that's why Jesus told stories because we can read them again and again and glean new lessons each time.

Other than reading The Fairytale Child aloud to a small group of women about fifteen years ago, who wept and thanked me for the powerful words, this story has been buried under a mountain of snow, aka - lost in a digital field of white and blue folders in my writing files.

That is, until one Australian winter day ...

At the beginning of the year, God spoke to me about 2019 being a year of renewing hope. Renewing my understanding, giving me hope for the Big Story He wanted, and still wants, to tell with my life and pushing me to join the adventure of hope by joining the world of indie publishing.

So, I toyed with the idea of releasing my novel, The Rose Of Admirias, as an indie author. But as I researched how to do this, I was soon lost in a world of new vocabulary and technology. And overwhelmed by how much editing my novel still needed. The whole process became daunting. Terrifying. And I found excuse after excuse to not follow through.

But Papa God was whispering to me, telling me to be brave. To hope for the future He had for me. Reminding me of little Ava and the terrifying adventure she faced one lonely Christmas.

Then a friend of mine released a short book as a means to gain more readers before they release their book next year. Something about this stirred me to action, and the next thing I knew, I was piecing together a collection of original short stories to indie publish. And Too Bright: And Other Stories Inspired By The Dreamcatcher's Journal was born.

And ...  

The Fairytale Child found a new home. A new place to shine.

As I began to edit the collection together, I was reminded of the lessons learned along the way. Co-creating worlds and characters with Papa God, weaving space operas together alongside high fantasy. Each story a creation, each story inspired by life lessons. Especially little Ava's.

The Christmas season is one filled with joy and celebration. But life's obstacles don't wait for holidays to come and go before bringing trouble, and for many, this season will be filled with hardship, tears, and heartache for the closeness of family, among other heavy burdens.

While it would be easy to allow the weight of uncertainty pull us down, we can find hope in the stories around us. Whether that be in creating a new short story, novel, or watching a film. We can look for God in every word and ask Him to teach us the important lesson Ava learned:

That night after Mama tucked her in, Ava thought of Papa and his promise to take care of them. She smiled, knowing he'd shown up today. He really was faithful.

Perhaps it's because it's the holidays, but I'm reminded of the hardships another family endured long ago. A small family who shared the warmth of a stable, while a chorus of angels sang of Papa God's provision to the world. Despite their difficulties of having no room after a long journey, I like to think Mary and Joseph,  still smiled and rejoiced while shepherds came and angels sang.

Only God knew this story would end at a cross, and yet He still sent his angels to sing, still planted a star (a thousand years in advance to that day) to shine for wise men to come and celebrate the birth of the King of hope.

Whatever you face this holiday season, whether it's the joy of being surrounded by family or pushing through a season of heaviness, I hope these glimpses of stories, some true and some inspired by true things, help you find new hope and new reasons to rejoice. And new stories of your own. Imagined and dreamed and created with the Creator. Because through the thick and thin Papa God is right there and always will be, a faithful provider who gives good gifts to His children.


Originally published on Christian Writers Downunder

Ancient Paths

Life is suffering. An up-hill battle, an adventure.

A constant struggling forward.

Lately the weight of life has gotten me down. I've spent a few nights crying myself to sleep.

Wondering what on earth I'm doing with my life.

On the outside, it looks like I have it all. I'm a filmmaker. Producing my first feature film. Working in an office of wonderful people, who I get to adventure with. I'm writing a novel and part of the worship team at church. I have great friends and a loving family. I have all the creature comforts I could want and am surrounded with good things.

On paper, I've got a pretty charmed life.

But the life of a creative is a constant struggle. And that's ok.

Because without a little conflict, life would get pretty boring. I don't want a life of all highs and no lows.

It's in the lows I remember to crawl back to my Papa and cry for his help. It's then I remember, I've got an amazing God, who is using every present struggle for the working of my good.

His plans are for our good

If there is one thing I can stress to those who are going through a difficult time. Even if it feels like that difficult time is always. On-going.

Do yourself a favour. Turn to Papa God. He's the only one who can meet you exactly where you are.
I've been listening to Bethel's new album, Have it All, and been reminded that when I focus on the struggle - I will be overwhelmed.

But if I focus on God and His phenomenal amazingness - I will overcome.

As soon as we tell God that He can, indeed, "have it all." That stress and worry. That frustration, it will lighten. I don't mean it will go away. I'm still facing a big giant, but my perspective has changed. I can't see the giant, because I'm too transfixed by the glory of my Daddy.

Walking the ancient paths

Jeremiah chapter 6, verse 16 says, "Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls."

Oh that we would turn our hearts back to God and take those ancient paths.

Think about an ancient path for a moment. What does it look like? Where would it be found?

I imagine those roads are not easy to navigate. They're probably overgrown. Full of wild things. In hard to reach locations. Where only the brave and courageous can find them.

And even then, I bet they are hidden to the naked eye.

Ah. But don't you know? It is the glory of God to conceal things, and the glory of man to seek them out!

To search something out is not going to be easy. But, He's told us not to fear, because He's redeemed us. Called us by name, and said we are His.

If that isn't enough. He's also given us a promise.

"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you." Isaiah chapter 43, verse 2

"I will give you hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord." Isaiah chapter 45, verse 3

I don't know about you, but I want to find those ancient paths. I want to seek out the things God has hidden. To walk forward - through the struggles - and know there will come a day when the struggle will have it's work in me.

And I'll come out the other end a stronger person.

Both in faith and relationship to the One who walked me through it.

Why The Joy Of The Lord Is The Best Way To World Peace

Want to know the secret to world peace? What if I told you it was easier and more fun than a day of hard work? 

I’ve grown up with a phrase. Any time self-doubt, depression or frustration sought to overpower me, my mum always said, “Don’t let it steal your joy.” And the reminder was there to find my joy in the Lord.

In Nehemiah chapter 8, verse 10 it says near the end, “… the joy of the Lord is your strength.”

Have you heard this so often it’s lost it’s significance and depth? It had for me. I spoke it by rote, there was no life behind the words, until a few weeks ago… 

Fresh Revelations Concerning Joy

A group of friends and I were praying and one of them had put together a list of the wars taking place in the world right now. It was longer than I’d imagined. 

The weight of hardship people in those countries face felt heavy - how was I to know where to begin to pray? I closed my eyes, trying to focus, when I heard a gentle whisper, “My joy is your strength.”

What did that have to do with praying for war-torn nations? 

Then I was reminded of a video I’d seen. The central focus is on a young girl and is a montage spanning a year of her life. It starts off on her birthday. She has a huge smile, her eyes dance with light as she holds up a birthday cake. 

As the video progresses, there’s an explosion and it’s revealed she’s living in the middle of a warring country. Each day, the light in her eyes dims and the smile becomes forced until she no longer has the energy to fake it. 

In the end, the girl’s eyes are vacant, the natural glow of her skin is gone, her shimmering hair is limp and dry. She becomes a shell of a little girl who has no joy or energy to even blow the candles out on her birthday cake.

I’m pretty sure the video is a dramatisation, but it’s still powerful. 

As I thought over the whispered words of moments before and this contrast of what war can do to a person, something clicked. I needed to pray for the joy of the Lord to be renewed in these places.

I found myself praying one of the oddest prayers of my life. “Lord, send more comedians to these countries, so they can learn to laugh again.” 

Was laughter another key? I pulled out my phone and did a quick google search for the benefits of laugher…

Laughter, lowers blood pressure. It decreases stress and anxiety to reduce the chance of depression. It improves cardiac health, and is a great work out for your abs.

According to one list, laughter helps reduce pain because it releases endorphins which work better against pain than the same amount of morphine. It also boosts your immune system to help you live longer.

A study at Johns Hopkins University Medical School, discovered that adding humour to lectures increased test scores. And another said laughter helped activate your whole brain, which aids creativity.

This is only a glimpse of the good, healthy benefits I found on laughter. But it made me realise how important and vital it is for us to laugh. 

Fresh Revelations Concerning Strength

As I continued to pray, a story began to awaken in me… 

It followed a country ravaged by war, where people were motivated by vengeance and anger. 

In this dark land, entered someone like Robin William’s “Patch Adams” (a doctor whose actions were motivated by a desire to make people laugh). 

As my imaginary story unfolded, I saw how laughter and God’s joy brought world leaders together through humour. Their vengeance and anger gone because of a shared laugh.
It reminded me of this short film where a group of bored strangers on a train get the giggles. I dare you to watch this without laughing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YdQnuqFlD7U

While the current world situations and even the personal issues each of us face can seem, and are, much more complicated than this simple story, I was reminded of how Jesus told us to become like little children. 

They don’t worry about difficulties. They live in the moment, trusting their parents for protection. 

Put aside all the obstacles and worry for a moment and consider the times when laughter diffused arguments in your own life. Could the solution to these world issues be so simple? 

The Hebrew word for “strength” found in Nehemiah, means ‘a place of safety, protection, refuge, stronghold, fastness, or a harbour.’ Meaning the joy of the Lord is a place or means of safety and protection. A refuge and stronghold. A harbour against whatever life throws our way. 

Whether you’re facing a hardship, or enduring a time of pain, or suffering, or if you find yourself in a country on the verge of war, remember the joy of the Lord is your strength. If more people tried this, I believe we’d see world peace. 

For now, we may not be able to leave those hardships behind for good, because people are fallible and forgetful, but if we do our part and trust God’s strength in those situations His joy really will lead us to peace and happiness.



Originally published on Christian Today.

To Be A Giver Will Make You Glow

It seems to me anytime the church starts talking about generosity our minds immediately go to monetary giving.

While it’s a biblical principle to tithe (giving 10% of our income), this wasn’t the point my pastor brought up recently. Instead, the focus was on giving of our time, resources and more. That we should be generous in every area of our life.

A quick study of the word “generous” will lead you to its origin in the late 16th century. Coming from the Latin generosus - noble, magnanimous - denoting someone of noble birth with the characteristics of courage.

A favourite author of mine refers to the nobility in her novel as ‘Sacrifice’, because they recognised their lives belonged to their people. They sacrificed their wants and desires for those of the kingdom.
As sons and daughters of the King of kings, Jesus said, we are to take up our cross and follow him - to be ‘Sacrifice’ - denying selfish ways in order to be selfless.

So how much more should we look at generosity - the act of being a giver - as a mandate for our lives?

Generosity is actually healthy for us

A study in 2013 linked generosity with reducing the risks of stress-related deaths. When we give, it sets off a chemical reaction which reduces stress and makes us feel good. Stephen G. Post, director of the Centre for Medical Humanities, Compassionate Care and Bioethics at New York’s Stony Brook University, calls it a “giver’s glow”.

Our brain releases ‘happy’ chemicals, in the mesolimbic pathways, also known as the reward pathways. It’s a chemical mix of dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin, which Post says, “give people a sense of euphoria […] which is associated with tranquility, serenity or inner peace.”
It’s a chemical cocktail of goodness.

Scientists have discovered even the thought of being generous can trigger this pleasure and reward system. One study in California discovered volunteering - giving of your time - to be more powerful for stress relief than exercising three times a week! Another showed regular church attendance to also reduces stress.

I was excited when I read this. Mostly because the heartbeat of my church is to be ‘Sacrifice’ by volunteering in different ministry areas. Whether it’s the creative team, kids, hosting or cafe, I’d say the majority of my church are volunteers. Scientifically, we’re getting a double portion of  “giver’s glow” because we’re volunteering and attending church regularly.

No wonder we’re such a happy and healthy community.

The beauty of this scientific research gives Psalm chapter 139, verses 13-14 a whole new meaning to me. “For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.”
God literally wired us to give.

Perspective is a Necessary Key to Generosity

It’s important how we feel when we give. If someone gives grudgingly or out of obligation, it doesn’t produce the ‘giver’s glow’.

When we give, whether it be a financial donation to a charity or volunteering at a soup kitchen on the weekends, we have to want to give in order for the chemical cocktail to kick in.

When we give from a selfless perspective, “people say their friendships are deeper,” Post said, “they’re sleeping better and they’re able to handle life’s obstacles better. On a scale of 1 to 10 – and 10's a really powerful drug like insulin in the treatment of diabetes – this stuff is probably up there around a 7 or 8. And the amazing thing is, you don’t need to go to a drugstore for it."

Both Colossians chapter 3, verse 23 and Ephesians chapter 6, verse 7 mention the importance of giving and doing it whole-heartedly, as if you were doing it for God and not man. Again these verses come more fully alive with the scientific evidence of giving.

More than any other time, this message of generosity needs to provoke us. As Christians we are supposed to be known for our love for one another.  (John chapter 13, verse 35) but time and again, I meet people who are surprised when Christians are generous, or loving. I can only imagine how God’s heart grieves for us to be whole-hearted in our giving.

Maybe the idea of giving is overwhelming to you. Maybe you feel anxious about being ‘Sacrifice’ to those around you. I know it happens to me. I feel too tired to give. Too tired to be whole-hearted in what I do.

But the times when I persevere and cling to these biblical truths, I find it becomes easier. Which again makes me think Jesus knew what he was talking about when he said, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
Being generous produces in us the ‘giver’s glow’ and love comes quicker when we’re living in a state of inner peace and euphoria.

So let’s take on this challenge. Let’s be generous. Let’s be Sacrifice. Because the more we do, the more the ‘giver’s glow’ will make us whole and healthy individuals. Shining like the star of Bethlehem, proclaiming God’s love.

Originally published on Christian Today

Be brave like the Snowbell

It thrives in cold climates. Lives in rocky, wet places. Prefers to be up high. On a mountain where the snow stays longest. Harsh conditions are best. Where it's strongest. Toughest.

Sounds romantic doesn't it? It's not.

It's lonely, cold. Harsh. The reality of this awesome place takes your breath away in its majestic beauty, but it also rips you apart. Bruises. Batters. Yet this is where, if you're brave, you find a small, delicate, violet flower. A Snowbell.

Snowbells grow under the snow. Imagine a domed roof of crystal. Sounds enchanting. Magical. It's incubated. Living in a warm haven from the cold world outside. Safe. But it doesn't stay there. It pushes through its protective palace. To blossom. To reveal its hidden beauty.

I first learn about this little flower just days before my mom calls with news that brings quick tears to my eyes. My beloved, loving aunt has passed away... For four days I hid in my house, watching what my housemate calls "depressing" movies. I'm caught off guard when she says that. To me they are deep and inspiring stories. I reluctantly pull back and examine them. They are depressing. All the films I choose are about eccentric, dysfunctional families. Where someone dies and the rest try to figure out how to keep going after their loved ones are gone.

This is how I process. I watch movies that remind me of my wonderful, quirky family. I cry with the characters as they learn how to say goodbye because, the truth is, I can't be with my family. I'm half way across the world from them.

I hate goodbyes.

I hate harsh realities.

But a little, purple flower keeps slapping me in the face.

Life is a lot like a Snowbell. Only I never feel quite ready to break into the cold world. There are moments I think I'm brave. Think that I'll push forward. But its a lot harder than I imagine. My aunt is gone and now there's a big hole.

I mourn. But not for her. She's in a better place. She's pain free and experiencing real life. She's pushed through the last snowflake domed roof this life can throw at her.

Her beauty is no longer hidden.

It's revealed.

I want to be like her and the Snowbell.

I can't join her. She's gone where I cannot follow. At least not right now. But I can and must use the hard things life throws at me to grow. I must push through life's snow domed impossibilities. Like saying goodbye. I realize I haven't made my heart public yet. My family has filled the pages of Facebook with their heart. I can't. It's not safe and all the words in the world feel empty and hollow. I can say I love her, it's true. I can say that I miss her. That I hurt for the family she leaves behind. It's all true but the words still feel void. Just like the emptiness I feel knowing I'll never hug her again. Never again hear her familiar, wonderful laughter. Laughter that tells me I am home. That I am with my family.

But I'm trying to be like my aunt. And like the Snowbell.

I must be vulnerable and brave.

Even when brick walls try to smother my progress. I must live. Really live. So here's my heart. It hurts. I'm confused. I miss my family. I miss my aunt... I remember she once bought me a thick, red towel. I remember she talked funny when she said "I love you, Cari". I remember she took me to Casa Bonita and the movies. I remember when she got excited about the plays she was in. I remember singing in the car with her and my cousins. I remember when she let herself be vulnerable in front of me and cried. I remember she opened her car by putting the remote under her chin. It always made me laugh. Seems silly that this is what I remember most. That silly remote. But it's real and the memories bring fresh pain. Just like the icy cold the Snowbell must feel the first time the bud pushes against the snow dome.

Letting the pain in doesn't feel good, but it's healthy. How else does the Snowbell reveal its bright royal colors? How else do we learn to really laugh?

And joy comes in the morning. I know it. The glorious sun shines down on the Snowbell and keeps it warm. The bright light causes the snow to sparkle. The Comforter stands next to my family. Next to me. I can release the pain and let the beauty in. I can laugh again.

My family is all together today, celebrating the life of my aunt. I wish I was there, but I'm still half way across the world. I hear the funeral was wonderful. Heart-warming. I'm not surprised. She was an amazing, loving woman. A great mother and wife. A wonderful aunt. I hear its snowing there now. Filling that world with wonderful, clean snow. How miraculous. My aunt. The Snowbell. Adorned with diamond jewels of crystalline snow.

No longer hidden.

Fully revealed.