I feel God when I’m alone (part 2) Nailing perfectionism to the cross

Palm Beach

There is a big difference between isolation and solitude.

Without the time to stop and doing a stocktake of our thoughts, sneaky lies have the habit of taking up residence in our thought lounge. These same lies dissipate when we come face to face with our Creator.

Time alone with Him will have you slowing down, being more aware of priorities, and instead of reaching for familiar (insert your own vice) you’ll reach more for Him.

Deep down we crave the stillness. Continue reading

Grief, International Pregnancy and Infant Loss: the Genesis Breath

Wave of Light

Over the last few years, I’ve been fortunate enough to live close to the water. We see it daily. The beach, my sacred place. To look out at the horizon, watch the setting and rising sun, see the waves as they roll in, it’s mesmerising.

When I was a little girl, my dad told me that waves always come in sets of seven. He said you could count them and after the first big wave crashed, six more would follow, each losing a little power until there was a pause, stillness… Continue reading

Your Best Life Now

Carly Riordan Worship Leading

‘Your best life now.’  This is the phrase that has been finding its ways into my consciousness of late. 

My best life now, right now.

Am I living my best life now? If not why. What am I waiting for? Why am I holding back, holding out? What have I stopped believing God for?… 

I have felt challenged when it comes to my faith. Specifically the substance of my faith. Is faith evident in my life? If so, where is it? What actions is it taking?

Have I diminished God down to what is possible, reasonable and doable in my own strength? Or am I believing for the God opportunities and the whispers that lead to wild adventures and memorable testimonies?  Continue reading

Abortion. Choosing to allow a life to be ripped from your body in such a humiliating way is not something your soul moves on from quickly. [Personal experience]

The first time I walked through the door of the abortion clinic was for an appointment to confirm I was pregnant. In my mind, there was no need for confirmation. Since I’d taken the test, the subtle changes in my body were haunting reminders of the secret I was hiding. A sudden thirst for soft drink, cravings for ice cream and a distaste for coffee, which had generally sustained me each day during university and long hours at work.

Continue reading