i give it... a 8.5

If I were to rate this weekend, I'd say it was way up there with the happy moments of Europe, GAT, and other such adventures. I guess it's been a while since I've an exceptionally fantastic experience that's really made me smile genuine smiles. So... since happy, good days are such a rarity lately, I thought I'd record what was involved in such a high-scoring, historical event.

SaturdaY:

- Slept in til 10:36am, and decided that it wasn't time to get out of bed, so I stayed under the covers reading "A Return to Modesty." By far, the most thought-provoking but interesting book about feminity and everything good about being a girl (if you ever wonder why women are more powerless than they ever have been in history, why we're so insecure, afraid, and why we should reclaim our dignity... then read that book).

- Got out of bed when I heard the vacuum cleaner running. Attempted to do something productive, but only got as far as plugging in my hair straightener.

- Straightened hair as Sarah lay on my bedroom floor and we began what became a day-long conversation about the perplexities of team life, the things that we're sick of, the need for a bludge, and my deepest desire to be taken care of.

- Opened my bedroom window to find a crisp, warm breeze and fantastically blue sky waiting for me.

- Changed into jeans and my bungee jumping singlet and bashed away at my drum-kit until Sarah was ready... headed to Eastgate.

- Bummed at Bondi Junction for 2 hours (took about 1/2 an hour to find parking... so make that 1.5 hours)... which involved having this for brunch:

Wait: does brunch have to happen before lunch? Because I believe we consumed that wonderful dish at about 1:50pm... but I hadn't had brekky yet, so that counts as brunch.

- After sitting in Gloria Jeans and reading really stupid Hollywood gossip magazines, I'll admit I feel a lot better. I figure if you ever get depressed and think your life is screwing up, then pick up Womans Day or something. All that crap about hollywood actors/actresses... i feel for them. Constantly scrutinised, judged, made fun of... and all they can do is keep on digging themselves into that hole. Pray for 'em.

- To continue our splurge day, Sarah and I finally left and went to East Gardens to attempt grocery shopping. I say "attempt" because it took us about 2 hours of window shopping to finally work up the energy to walk into Woolworths. (haha... yeah like that even makes sense). I'll admit it was so much fun walking around David Jones, General Pants, Portmans, Sportsgirl and a whole heap of chic stores, knowing we were dead broke and couldn't afford anything we tried on. But man it was good to be girly again:

- Here's my dress my Portmans. (I only say "my dress" because I want it.) I hate being poor, but I figure even if I wasn't, I wouldn't buy it because it's over $100.

It's fun shopping with Sare coz she's a punk princess AND a girly-girl, so we're on the same wave length. She'll see a dress, and I'll find a funky shirt, and life is good because we both agree that both are great. And the best part is we both know we're missionaries so we don't actually need to buy anything! So we spent the afternoon being idiots... reminds me of the times in high school when I used to hang with my mates at Westpoint (back when it was a tiny shopping centre) and try on pretty clothes, hoping for a more up-style life. Hahaha...

- Eventually we got REALLY girl, started talking about life, the future, what we'd do if (God-forbid) we ended up like our parents, if it's possible to find the perfect guy, where we would live if we couldn't live in Sydney (which, by the way, is definitely the BEST city in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD), and what type of engagement ring we would want.

This type of conversation, of course, is ridiculous, coz neither of us have boyfriends. But that didn't stop us from walking into Prouds and checking our wedding rings (sad, yes, but I do believe that was the whole point of the day).

- Eventually we bought groceries (spent about $100 at Joes Meat Market, then another $150 at Woolies - who thought feeding 7 people would cost so much a week?!). Our house seems to be getting fuller, now that Justine's moved in. And Taryn's coming back to Sydney after a year in the UK. So the CYS house is buzzing with people...

- So we drove home, absolutely exhausted, but extremely satisfied. Changed into our PJs and sprawled out in our hallway, looking at cookbooks, trying to figure out if we could be bothered to cook anything for dinner.

- Banged away at faithful Ash once again. (I might actually be getting worse at drums, because I haven't been practicing, which is awful).. and got a call from Eddoes, who announced his arrival at my front door.

- Thus started the lazy preparation of dinner. Chicken in cream & mustard sauce and... (haha what else?) RICE. That's when I discovered Edwin actually has a technique to how he eats his food (**note to self: he's good at cooking at rice.)

- And then we ended the fantastic Saturday with a stroll around Sydney. *sigh* How I love my city! We re-discovered Mrs Macquarie's Chair and spent a split-second appreciating it, then drove around to the Rocks. It was nice just walking around, looking at the stars, laughing at random things, saying a prayer on the warf, and admitting (quite thankfully) that I'd never be an upper-class high-roller (ask Edwin what that means, because I'm not sure if I even know).

And thus I ended Saturday somewhat exhausted, but with a massive smile on my face.

Woke up this morning and prayed for energy. I was lying in bed looking at old pictures, when I made a deal with God: "If you give me a good day today... I'll... uh... be good." I'm not sure if I stuck to my end of the bargain, but God did. So to end this historical record of this once-in-a-season experience, here are the highlights of Sunday:

1. Singing @ Mass with Tristan and Bec.
2. Raising enough money for a GK house in the Phils, just from the donations from one Parish. WOW. That got me teary - joyful tears.
3. The little boy (probably about 9 or 10 years old) who stood at our donations booth, tipping out the coins from his wallet. He held them in his hand, looked at us sheepishly and offered his $3.30 towards our mision trip to the Philippines, saying "It's not much, but you can have it." That was a crying moment, right there - how beautiful is that?! I hope he knows that his pocket money just paid for part of someone's new home.
4. The little girl (probably 7 or 8 years old), Dian, who approached me after the 6pm Mass to say, "It's really nice what you guys are doing to help other people. I like it." And put her $1 in my money tin...
5. All the babies at the 10am Mass who got my clucky, and reaffirmed my ultimate desire to be a Mum one day.
6. Meat pies, fish and chips and chocolate milkshakes at the beach with Tristan, Sarah and Bec. Waves are always soothing... thank you God for the water.
7. Afternoon siesta after jam-session on drums.
8. Night prayer....

And although life is hardly fantastic, and things have yet to turn around... I'm oh-so-grateful for good weekends like this. Thank you God!! And I should thank the team while I'm here... they're legends, and I love them. THank you Bec for putting up with me, Sarah for spending time with me, Beth who always makes me smile, Box for your energy, Joe for your servant's heart, Lyndon for understanding me, and Justine for affirming me.

To all the people back at home.. I miss you.

Lord, Your love is unfailing... My fear is lost where you are... Amen.

we wrote a song today!

It's called:

"Oh Crappy Day - As Opposed to Oh Happy Day (i.e. a song for when you want to laugh/scream/cry, but still a love song for Jesus & God)"

V1:
When no one understands me
I know that you do
When no one wants to here this (*@#$%!!*)
I know that you do

REF:
And I know that I don't know much
But I know that you'd give me the world
And I know I could give you nothing
But you'd give the world to me

V2:
When no one wants to see me
I know that you do
When I have nothing worthwhile to say
I know that you do

REF:
And I know when I'm feeling too tired
I know you'd take my baggage and give me somewhere to hide
And I know I could give you nothing
But you'd give the world to me...

And today you let me see
It's all for you
Everything I do
This #!%!^ I go through
- Today was... for you.

In the office talking to Joe. "Every day is a learning curve," he says to me. My personal favourite: "God is the lightbulb that follows you around." Gotta love Joe - one of a kind.

i love...

the smell of freshly washed clothes when they come out of a dryer...

currently craving:

Fried Chicken. Was thinking about it at about 6:57am as we drove down Alison Rd on our way to the motor way. Don't know why it popped into my head, but mate it's been on my mind for a while.

Thought I'd come down here for some free time... Slept my way through dinner tonight, and woke up to watch Harvie Crumpet on DVD (strange but somewhat enlightening short film with the guy from the Dilmah Tea ads doing the v/over of a statue... *ahem*) and Desperate Housewives... I've watched more prime-time TV in the past week than I have this whole year (yeah a whole 11 hours of it) - which just goes to show I haven't been in much touch with the world.

And so now... I smell like popcorn (not the best thing to be reaking of just before bed) and I'm wondering if it's worth keeping in-the-know with what's been happening in the world because it's pretty depressing.

I thought I'd announce to the world that right now, at this precise moment of 10:17pm, EST, I'm quite over it. I did a talk yesterday with the SPY kids, and it was awesome being there again, serving them, and seeing them praying, seeing them spend time with God and build up their faith that things to turn out well, that there is a reason behind things that go wrong...

And here I am late on a Monday night after a spiritually draining day... and man... I wish someone would give me that talk. I want someone to sit me down and tell me that it's alright to have your life falling apart, it's alright to be feeling hurt and to miss life the way it used to happen, and it's ok to be terrified, confused, tired, abandoned and torn apart... because that's everything I'm feeling at the moment... but I'm not quite sure that anyone understands why...

My sister's MSN nick is "pretty red nails" and I'm just trying to figure out the last time I even did my nails, did something completely girly, or really had time out, without feeling like it was work... or thinking about when I had to get back to work.. and then I wonder if I'll ever have that feeling again because now that I'm outta school, I don't think it's available... and my only escape is thinking, daydreaming and discussing a future with a someone that doesn't quite exist yet. Hahaha... what a sad, sad bubble I'm in right now. Man I need something sharp.

breathe

It's a rare feeling to feel on a Friday night - relief. Relaxed. At peace. Usually on a Friday night, I'm feeling phased. Like my hair should be turning grey, or my face should be covered in acne (who am I kidding, my face is covered in acne. Big pimple on my chin... yuck!)

Actually, to be honest, lately I've been going to bed stressed and tired most nights. It's not common to be feeling... uh... wound down? Usually I'm uptight. Worried. Now.. I'm just over it.

Perhaps its because I prayed to God this morning. An honest, angry prayer. Basically I said, "Look, you know I'm always going to say yes to you. You know that no matter what you ask me to do, where you tell me to go, I'll go. So please don't drag me through the mud today. Or please don't make today hard for me. I'm tired. I just want a good day. A day when I don't have to go to bed wanting to cry, and wanting the next day to come already, because the day that just went by sucked. No... I want today to be a good day. And since today is Your day, please make it a good one."

I honestly didn't think God would listen to such a stuck-up, spoilt brat of a prayer. Here I am whinging about my own hates and unhappiness, when bombs are being blown up in the Middle East, where kids are dying from starvation in Africa, and the teenagers of America are being ripped off and exploited by a power-tripping media.

Now that I think about it, life ain't that bad.

But I'm not going to pretend it's fine and dandy for me. It's not. I'm tired. Tired of leading, tired of being wonderful, tired of being accountable, tired of being "the missing link" in so many people's lives. Sometimes I just want to be... uh... how do I put it? Small? I feel insignificant, but usually because my work transcends my own abilities. Sometimes I just want to be insignificant. Not in charge. Not in the lead. Not the source of answers.

Somewhere, in the distance, a very, very distant voice whispers soothingly, "It's ok Joy, you're not in charge. You're not in the lead. You're not the source of answers. I am. So just rest. It's ok."

But the voice is faint, and most of the time, all I can hear are people asking me questions, people asking me to do more things, lead more events etc. etc.

Today, though, did turn out to be a great day. I thought I should record it, before I forget that good days do happen. I guess because I finally took the time to breathe, and remember that I'm not alone. And there are other, more enjoyable ways of serving people (that don't include being up the front, or running activities)... tonight's service involved pumpkin soup, chees croutes, tacos, and a choc-coffee-walnut cake served with choc-chip ice-cream and toffee. I've never cooked up a storm before, but tonight was my debut. And it was a great. Great to see people smiling as they ate, great to hear their laughter in the dining room as I rushed around the kitchen.

And as I wiped down the stove tonight, and stepped back to look at a somewhat-clean kitchen, I was happy. And grateful... because even when it's hard, and even when the work hurts... God reminds me: it's ok. I love you... your family loves you. Just breathe.

Everybody hurts, everybody aches
Everybody fails, everybody breaks
Just breathe
Let it out and breathe

Everybody cuts, everybody bleeds
Every hidden scar is justified -
so breathe,
Let it out and breathe...
Just breathe

Dear Fallout Boy,

I was wondering... is it ok if we swap powers for a while? I quite admire your abilities when it comes to being supportive, patient, and incredibly funny... and I'm sick of being "Wonderful" all the time. Sick of leading, sick of being responsible... and to be honest, I think it's time to throw the cape in. Or perhaps I should pursue a less ambitious career path. I'll admit - saving souls is a ridiculously hard job. People always manage to stuff themselves up again.

So how about it? Mind if I resign for a while? Crawl under a rock maybe... and you can take over? I'm sick of being hero. Right now, I just need to be rescued.

Kind regards,

"Wonder Woman"

the mi goreng life

Beautiful Sunday afternoon... just went for a stroll down Clovelly Rd thinking of what to have for lunch, and opted for home-cooked-MSG-packed Asian 2-minute noodles. I figure it's the last day of my holidays, so I can be as damned lazy as I want to be. Besides, I have to be in Randwick in less than two hours.. which doesn't give me much time to sit in my bed and vege with a DVD.

So... what has the last two weeks involved? Not much, I can guarentee you that! And that's exactly the type of break I wanted to have.

** Driving around the suburbs, with nothing major on the agenda.

** Celebrating Nez's 22nd birthday (haha - OLD!) and chilling with old mates again.

** Lunch at Circular Quay wharf with Jonna, Vincent and Nereus. Gelato at Coogee and a long, deep and meaningful walk up the hill.

**Spent a night cruising around Coogee and Circular Quay, appreciating the view of Sydney, eating cheap food and drinking beautiful Italian hot chocolate with Jason.

** Came back to the CYS house for a weekend for the YFC Campus camp - that was totally worth it. The guys at that camp have totally redefined the game "TABOO" forever... serving with Carlos again was cool, making that video with Gi, and meeting all those new participants? ALRIGHT! Good times..

** DVDs on the couch back at home, under a big, warm blanket.

** Scabbing chocolate cookies off Eddoes.

** Girly, philosophical pizza dinner @ Rocky's with Ivy. She always reminds me to be faithful, makes me smile, and is one of the most heavenly and beautiful young women I know!
** Meeting John Howard at McDonald's. That was random... but mate, it was hilarious. Spent a day with Gemma, Lisa and Bec again - YAY! I missed that... just being lazy girls (what we do best).

** Being, hugged, looked after and taken care of when sick... :)

** Babysitting Caitlyn.. aww that cute pudgy baby - I love her!

** Sydney's Act1v8 Launch!! Last night's crowd of over 600 people @ St Mary's was... WOW! Totally AMAZING. The band rocked over, the singers gave me tingles, the DVD premiere for the WYD promo got me teary... all in all, an awesome night to kick start the term.

Aha... and there it is... life on term officially commences... umm.. tomorrow at 11am - I think. Hehe.. and what a great term it'll be.

I can't believe it's already half-way through the year. I can finally say I've settled into our house and am somewhat possessive over it (I feel annoyed when I notice it's not being taken care of). But right now... I won't step into missionary territory year because I still have just about 20 hours of holiday time left... and I plan to milk every single minute of it.

meet... the product of my study

Uh... yeah... so this is what comes out of my brain when I spend a whole day attempting to study:

Meet Hat Man! His super power is that he can turn into hats. That's about as far as got in terms of creativity... hehe... God bless you world.

the sound of a flame

Have you ever listened to the sound of fire? I find it somewhat fascinating... it's so soft, and yet the sound it makes is powerful. From the tiny flicker of a candle, to the trembling gusts of wind that come as a naked flame roars through the bush; fire is intense, potent, mighty... leaving a severe effect on everything it comes into contact with.

There's nothing as intriguing as a naked flame. I could sit and watch a camp fire for hours, regardless of how stupid the songs sound, or the chatter that floats over it. A single candle makes its presence known in even the darkest room. The rustling tongues of heat that warm a room can turn the chilliest night into the cosiest moment.

I'm not sure why this is the image that has come to mind. I just know that right now, it's freezing in the CYS office, and I'm exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally... but not spiritually. No... the Spirit is definitely alive in me. Even if it's a tiny flicker, I can feel its flame. I can sense its power... and somewhere, from a source beyond my control, I feel it empowering me.

It's the end of Term 2. Chapter 2 has but 5 days of ministry left. I feel the energy slowly inching out of my body, as it cries out for much needed sleep. How was it, that at the beginning of May, I survived so easily on 5 hours of sleep, and now I struggle to get through the day even if I've had 10? The team is past the half-way marker of our year-long race.

And what a race it has been! Bec flew up to Alice Springs today, and I miss her already. I've watched as this random team of six strangers has transformed into a complex, unified and extravagant jigsaw puzzle. Each person has their weakness and missing bits, but also has the ability to complement and fill in the space left by the other - altogether creating a buzzing, lively and inspiring picture. One complete, unified body... of Christ. :)

If you're reading this, then we need your prayers. Today marks Day #2 of the Randwick Parish mission. It's an interesting business: introducing people to Christ... but fulfilling, despite the setbacks. The only thing that will help us (besides your physical presence at the TESTIFY Youth Rally this Friday night!) is your prayers... your intercession... and your faith.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm really fit for this. If this is really where God wants me to be, if doing what I'm doing is worth it... all the doubts creep in, all the insecurities, the tiredness, the temptation to throw in the towel and walk off the field....

But then I remember the sound the flame.

If you don't understand what I mean, light a match. Such a tiny light can make a very significant sound. The rush of heat, power, light and strength all captured in one tiny flame at the end of one small, insignificant piece of wood. Let the flame linger on a candle, and listen to it burn.

Sometimes I feel like that candle.

Something powerful is eating away at me.

I feel parts of me are disappearing, melting, dripping away.

My time. My skills. My energy. My thoughts. My will. My strength.

Something stronger than me, something brighter than me, something far more significant than me is burning away at my selfishness, my bitterness, my brokenness, my confusion, my anxiety, my ignorance, my shame... and as it does so... a light emanates.

The light is not my own.

It was placed there by someone greater, someone stronger, someone purer than me.

But it's using me to shine a little. To provide a bit of light. Perhaps even some warmth.

How can something so small, so weak, fragile and yielding as a candle hold something so powerful like a flame? The same fire that can burn, destroy, light up, heat, transform, and give life, can rest in a broken, misshapen, sloppy and feeble candle.

I ask the same question when I wonder how God can use me... and He gently reminds me, as he whispers through that flame, that it is possible. That something as powerful, transcendent, enormous, intriguing, awesome and magnificent as God himself, can live, work and use something as weak, broken, confused, young and unworthy as me.

Why? Because he wants to. Why? Because he wants someone to carry his light. Because he wants someone to host his warmth. Because he wants someone to be a vessel...

So when you're feeling burnt out; when your flame begins to flicker in the wind... remember: As the flame burns you, you are giving light to others. You are the vessel of a strong, omnipotent and unstoppable force. That power is using you to light up that same darkness that you fear is trapping you. Don't rely on your own strength, but look instead, to the light that He's put in YOU.

Use that light in the dark world to lead others to the right path.

life in ministry

The team's started up a CYS blog - one specifically for this year's team. I'm not entirely sure how honest I should be when it comes to writing down thoughts... but I figure Jesus said, "I am the way, the TRUTH and the life," so there's nothing too bad about being honest - especially when it leads to how gracious he's been for all of us who live under this roof.

So tonight's thoughts are posted at the CYS blog. Keep us in your prayers... and esp the students. It's a tough job. And I'm buggered!!

And the Blues are losing... the team sounds pretty distraught right now. God help them! =p

windy Sunday nights...

We're all in the living room watching the football. I wish we did this more often... but I'm not that into football (blame Joe for this). Atm, Chris and Lyndon are somewhere in the crowd at Telstra stadium watching the world cup re-match, Sarah just received her 6th day birthday present... and man I'm absolutely knackered. What a weekend.

And the back door at our place keeps farting. The wind blows and it sounds atrocious. (is that how you spell atrocious?) ... Anyhoo.. this is cool. Watching TV with the CYS family. Gotta love it mate...

there goes my hero

Tomorrow I'll be out west doing a reflection day with some Yr 10 boys. The team has asked me to do a testimony about the men in my life that I honour... and I'm sitting here trying to multi-task (i.e. create a music video clip and write my testimony at the same time), and it's too late at night to be thinking deep... but I figure I should prepare something because there are too many boys around the world who have ridiculous notions about what is honourable.

Mind you, I don't really know too much about honour. Last night the team was in the living room and we were sharing about the things that annoy us about the opposite sex. I said "pride." I won't delve into details, but man... guys and their pride: won't ask for directions / always have an insecurity when girls are better than them at particular things... like driving, playing a musical instruments, and doing well in exams / won't admit it when they want to cry / find it even harder to admit when they're feeling any emotion other than PRIDE. Hahaha.. GRRR

Whoops... this blog was supposed to be about my heroes. Major sidetrack!

Hmm... ok... the guys I honour...

Random thoughts here:

The first would have to be my Daddy. What a legend. You know... if I went back in time and told my 14-year-old self that I would be calling my father a hero, the 14-year-old me would look at me with aghast disbelief and call me a liar. But seven years later, this brat of a 21-year-old looks up at her Dad with major admiration. His life is a testament to the quote "Prayer doesn't change God's mind - it changes your heart." I've noticed my Dad grow in faith... praying more fervently, spending more time with his Father... and though I now surpass him in height, his growth over the past couple of years astounds me.

I love the way he always compliments my Mum. He has spent so long learning the language of each woman in our household... learning how to cook, how to pause and have a conversation with us, how to step back before raising his voice and humbly speak his mind without being hurtful. And I see him hurt and I see him struggle... But in all honesty, with all past experiences considered, he's truly one of the strongest men I know. Despite the physical and emotional setbacks, he's the warrior for our family. I wish I could tell him all this to his face... but man.. I love my Dad. He got up on Tuesday morning just to make me bacon and eggs. What a sweetheart! (I figure any guy who wants to win me over needs to have a word with my Dad first... he'll give good tips.)

Then of course, two of the bestest friends a girl could ask for: Edwin and Nereus.

I met Nez in 1998 at a school disco. Can't remember what happened, but I know from memory that he doesn't dance, never has and probably never will... oh wait... he did once in Prague... and he wasn't even under the influence of alcohol! Good on ya mate... I'm so proud of you. No, no wait... I do have valid reasons for my admiration and appreciation of this friend. Wow... it's been 8 years. Though shy, timid and extremely quiet at times (only God knows how we remained friends for so long), Nereus is one of the few boys in our high school generation who I can have a real conversation with. He knows me inside and out - from heartbreaks, to bad habits, to fears, insecurities... and man... we've had so many conversations til 3am about the things we want to achieve... dreams, inspirations, the things we pray for, the things we hate, the places we want to see one day. Although I sincerely think he'd be one of the best priests ever, I do hope that one day, I'll be able to send my kids over to his place and his kids can play with mine. Or we'll take them on those world-famous KFC family holidays. Hahaha... (ewww...) But what makes this guy a hero?

Ok... The biggest contribution he's made in my life would have to be FAITH. Not just faith in God, but faith in me. From the moment we met, I don't think he's ever doubted my ability to achieve. I tell him my aspirations, and he prays for them. I ring him up crying, and the first thing he'll want to do is put us in the presence of God - even though we're miles apart. He knows when I'm nervous, and knows when I'm lying... He knows how to build me up and encourage me to the best woman I can be. He used to try teaching me guitar... drive me to uni... drive me to morning Mass at St Pat's... We used to study together at the local library. Well... we'd try... but end up going to Foodcourt and buying ice cream or something. He would move heaven and earth to be where I needed him to be - whether it was a youth night, a camp, a school retreat, an escape from the rest of the world, a DVD night at Suarez's joint, a trip to Boston Markets (back when Boston Markets existed). This is the brother I never had. The one who'd give me honest advice about the other men in my life - even when it hurt him to say it, and hurt me to hear it. Not many men would be courageous and strong enough to pick up the pieces of their broken heart and trust it in the hands of the person who broke it... yet he does. I don't know if that's safe to publish - but I do honour him for always cherishing the treasure of our friendship. God only know why he still does... but I am so grateful.

A year after I met Nez at our yr 8 disco, I encountered him again at my first YFC camp. This is where I met Edwin. Hmm... ok... Eddoes. The boy up the road. Met him some time during that camp in Gross Vale (remember that place with flying fox? All the oldies know it...) - one of the first things he said was, "Hey aren't you Roanne's sister?" - they were in the same homeroom in high school. How embarrassing... he saw me dancing and thought I was a psycho. But then again, who didn't? Eventually he became my mission partner. I used to think he was a geek. Wait... I still do. Nah... Ok... a cool geek. (If that's possible - Sarah reckons that's an oxymoron). As we grew in service, we grew as friends. I honestly believe that if God hadn't made us mission partners or put us in the same household, we would hardly speak to each other, despite living only 1km apart.


What to say about this man of God? That's just it - he's a man of God. Another major contributor to my faith. Long before we were mission partners, I had an admiration for him... And long before he became one of my best friends, I had a deep respect for him. I guess the thing is... who doesn't? He's just one of those guys... you'd look at them and think, "Yeah, he's one of the few people who's got the right idea about life." He was simple, organised, smart, respectful to his parents, and although amazingly shy; ridiculously loaded with talent. He's got a servant's heart. Loves his family more than anything, would give his best in everything he does - in his studies, in his guitaring, in his honesty, in his work... he's a perfectionist. He's a man of integrity, and that's why I love him. Life is simple for Eddoes: faith is simple, God is simple, love is simple, disasters are simple... basically his life is a testimony to that fact there is nothing that God can't control - so why worry? He is one of my greatest heroes (and doesn't even realise it) - simply because he has a servant's heart. Humble, generous, responsible and selfless. When there's something he can't do, he admits it - and that's truly honorable.

What I appreciate the most is his faith in me. He brings me back to Earth, but also encourages me to reach for the stars. He is one of the few people in my life who can calm me down and bring me back to reality. We're so different, it's silly. I'm an idealist... while he's so damn practical. But combine the two, and you've got dreams coming true. He's one of the few people who actually get me to do difficult things without pushing: like when we used to go jogging, swimming, all the talks/music and stuff he gets involved in: his presence automatically reminds me to trust in God. And he's the best travel buddy of all time - where haven't we been? Philippines, all over Europe... road tripping through New Zealand... and even random suburbs across Sydney. He takes the time to learn my strangeness, my habits, my needs and my fears... He's there to pray with me, or pray over me (even over the phone!!), and he'll stay up late to keep me company as I work on another video clip, even if it means losing sleep before a big day at work. He's the type of guy who humbly steps back and lets me do my thing, but is ready to catch me when I'm crashing and ready to burn out... and his support prevents me from doing so. He learns from his mistakes, and reminds me to do the same... and is the eternal optimist (despite appearing so damn lazy). Oh and did I mention... he's CLEAN! What a rarity! Gotta love this guy man...

I guess the beauty of having two such supportive men as my best mates, is that I've never come across a hurdle that one them hasn't helped me overcome. They pray for me, talk over ideas with me, advise me, support me, protect me and look after me... and make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

These three men (plus a few of the blessed, and precious and heroic men I've met and befriended like:
* Five of the maddest people to live/work with: Joe, Box, Vincent, Chris, and Lyndon.
* Four of the funniest, bravest and honest boys that God has placed in my path: Sav, Ian, Suarez and Ryan.
* Three of the wisest and Christ-like priests I've met, who know my secrets, and spiritual battles inside and out: Fr Warren, Fr Rob and Fr Michael)
capture what it is to be a hero, and testify it to me each time I encounter them. They have their weaknesses and acknowledge them humbly, and remind me that though they are all ordinary men, they were rescued and guided by one extraordinary hero: Jesus Christ.

And what a hero He is!! JC - the ultimate rescuer and Saviour. Humble, gentle, generous, powerful. His mission was entirely selfless and I love Him. When I see Christ in the men in my life, I find more reason to honour, love and support them. I pray they will always turn to him as the ultimate role model... after all - His triumph and victory was the benchmark that beat the greatest enemy. Hands-down, Satan was defeated. Every compliment I've paid to the heroes in this entry is a tribute to their role-model: Jesus Christ.

***

So.... to my heroes: if you read this, know that I love, appreciate and totally admire each of you (even the ones I failed to mention, you better know you're on hero-status!!) The man that you are now has shaped me to be the woman I am today... and your words of affirmation, inspiration and direction have led me closer to my one true love: God!! So God bless you, and may you grow... and may the women in YOUR life continue to honour and pray for you in the way you truly deserve...

In honest gratitude... your Joy.

and if i never knew You...

I'd rather die tomorrow than live a hundred years without knowing you.

[John Smith]

ho·ly (hō'lē): (adj)

1. Belonging to, derived from, or associated with a divine power; sacred.
2. Living according to a highly moral religious or spiritual system.
3. Specified or set apart for a religious purpose.
4. Solemnly undertaken; sacrosanct.
5. Regarded as deserving special respect or reverence.

con·se·crate (kŏn'sĭ-krāt'): (tr.v)

1. To dedicate solemnly to a service or goal.
2. Dedicated to a sacred purpose; sanctified.

****

For a while it felt like I was sick of being accountable to people - sick of being known, sick of giving what I feel I no longer have... sick of having the Wonder in Wonder Woman...

I figure I bring the exhaustion on myself - so really, there's no one to be angry at except me. Yesterday, Edwin and I were sitting in my backyard and I had nothing left to say. I was stressed, upset, angry, disappointed, overwhelmed, exhausted and feeling useless all at once. We just sat in silence, because I was sick of giving instructions, sick of giving orders, sick of having to know what to do all the time... and for once, I just wanted to not have to do all of those things, and I wanted someone to take the reigns and lead for a while. So we sat there and he tried to figure out what to do to cheer me up... thankfully it didn't take long for him to realise that when I'm in a hopeless mood, a simple hug will suffice.

This afternoon we had hot chocolate and sat on the couch watching The Simpsons - the perfect cure for a rainy day. I am thoroughly grateful for our conversations about our human-ness: the fact that big warm jumpers are the best, the fact that someone's past will never define them, the fact that girls in make-up don't always look prettier than girls without make-up, and the fact that even though there are some people who may have the ability to do everything and anything, they still need to be taken care of, babied, loved and looked after.

And as he said goodbye again, I couldn't help but wonder how it is that such a patient and understanding person could wonder into my life without my deserving it. Sometimes it blows my mind; the way God outdoes my prayers. I figure the people who don't pray fervently are the people who have completely overlooked its power. Seriously though - so many of us turn to friends/family to help us through things, to help us achieve things and blah blah blah... but who better to ask, than the one who can do ALL things?

Right now I'm in bed, trying to wrap my head around the major decisions that I've been asked to pray about over the next couple of weeks. If you read this, please say a quick prayer for me - that I will be able to discern what I need to do so I can fully give everything to God, because that's what He keeps on doing for me, so it's the least I can do for Him.

I watched Pocahontas today. Not the most historically accurate Disney movie, I know, but it sure got me thinking. She sings:

What I love most about rivers is:
You can't step in the same river twice
The water 's always changing, always flowing
But people, I guess, can't live like that
We all must pay a price
To be safe, we lose our chance of ever knowing
What's around the riverbend
Waiting just around the riverbend
I look once more
Just around the riverbend
Beyond the shore
Where the gulls fly free
Don't know what for
What I dream the day might send
just around the riverbend
For me...Coming for me

I don't know what God has in store. Sometimes I feel like he's asking me to do the impossible... sometimes I get frustrated because I know following Him involves leaving things, people, dreams and other such wordly things behind. But then I think... this is God. Nothing beats Him, what He gives and what He can do. And every time I've said yes to letting something go, he brings me to a new level and replaces my emptiness with a sense of overwhelmed joy... or peace... usually both.

Then I remember the beauty of being holy... of being consecrated. Set aside for a particular purpose. And not just any purpose... but God's purpose. His service. His goal. His annointing. When you're answerable to so many people, trying to lead, guide, serve and support them, it's easy to forget that God is the real BOSS. The only one I'm truly answerable to. So this current battle in my head and heart will be nothing compared to what adventures, victories and triumphs lie ahead. Just around the river bend...

***

Oh Father... how I want to trust you, instead of letting all my fears overwhelm me. Help me to build a child-like faith. Faith that trusts in you, strength that relies on you, courage to say yes to you, and love that gives everything for you...Amen.

saturday morning blues...

Breakfast: Extremely late, considering it's not meant to be day off. The sky is grey, so it's ridiculously dark in our house... and I didn't crawl out of bed until about... hmm.. 9:30am? That's after my eyes peeled open at 7am, and I told Sarah I'd be at Morning Prayer in "just a second.." but fell into a deep dream about riding in a car... and all of a sudden it was 2.5 hours later.

But Sarah (who will be an awesome mother one day - Josh and I have decided) lovingly cooked up a feast of French Toast, scrambled eggs and hot chocolate. And it's taking me a while to get this whole hot chocolate thing down (even though it's freezing), so I thought I'd blog.

I've been meaning to all week. But I either haven't found the time, or have surrendered all my energy.

And mate... what a week it's been. I'm blue today because Josh (our team-exchange brother from the Canberra-Goulburn team) is leaving today, and it's been one mega fantastic week with him around. I think it's important to see regular life through the eyes of someone who's experiencing it for the first time... so Josh - while he is 19 years old - did make this week's personal revelations far more exciting. Plus, he's just funny. Full of jokes, games, pointlessness... all the great things that boys are good for. And he's a true brother at heart... so kudos to Josh - I'll miss you man.

Feels like a mega long time ago since I was up in the common room having a DNM with Bernie about the possibility of doing a second year of team, while everyone was outside playing basketball in the rain.

Speaking of rain... my washing has gotten wet every time I've attempted to do it this week. I wake up to this brilliant sunrise, but suddenly the sky gets overcast, and the rain drops start to fall. I was outside hanging out toe socks yesterday, and I felt the first few drops, and I said,
"God... seriously... why'd you have to make it rain for?"
So he replied with,
"Joy, over a billion people pray to me every day... so I can't really say yes to everyone. So today, I couldn't say yes to you. Is that ok?"

Man I'm such a brat. Complaining about the little-ist of things. I was talking to Beth as we drove home last night, and we had a nice little conversation about choosing to be happy. Yes, me dear friends - happiness is a choice. Who would've thought?

I've decided to make it a habbit to come up with a Golden List at the end of everyday. A Golden List are 10 things that I am grateful for that happened in the last 24 hours. It's an awesome habbit, because even when you're going to bed in the foulest mood (which I don't recommend, by the way... wait... is that even a word?), you'll still manage to find 5-10 things that made you happy that day. If you do this every night, you'll start waking up in the morning, looking out for things that you can put on that list. It's a brilliant habit, I tell you, CHOOSING TO BE HAPPY.

Having said that, why is the title of my blog "Saturday Morning Blues??" I don't know. There's nothing particularly blue about today at all. Well... except for the fact that Josh is leaving. But otherwise, life is great... life is good... and despite all the tears... shit can still become something beautiful (compost bins are a testimony to that).

a glass of milk

Lying in bed again... tonight I am absolutely exhausted. Neck is sore, feet are tired, legs are bruised and jaw is throbbing. Funnily enough, I feel all these things, and I didn't even get into a punch up (what are rort!!). Hehehe... I can hear someone is listening to music... it might be Bec (her room is next to mine).

What a packed weekend! Carnivale Christi was on, and CYS was heavily involved (i.e. Vincent planned the Youth Fest, and our heroic team executed the plans). Gotta love the CYS team man... the things they do - it's amazing. For those who don't know, Carnivale Christi is a weekend long event that the Sydney Archdiocese holds to celebrate faith through art, dialogue and... well... a festival. Today was the festival of faith... and WOW - I was impressed! The piazza outside the cathedral was full of stalls of people who were soooo proud of their faith. We had a whole heap of different cultures selling food, religious orders giving our prayer cards, mission teams telling their stories and encouraging people to spread the faith in Africa, India and Cambodia. Both young and old people performed - jazz bands, rock bands, cultural dances, vocal ensembles... the works. As I sat there amidst the kerfuffle, I decided that the Festival of Faith is something that every Catholic has to experience at least once in their life.

Last night was also a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I will forever remember collapsing in the middle of the massive school hall, as the rest of the team heroically packed the final bits of pieces of equipment into our van. Tristan sat next to me and we both confessed how much speaking at the front can take out of us. The YouthFest for 2006 was finally over (mind you, it was about midnight), and the speakers, lights, sound system, laptops, projectors, screens, cables, sacred space materials, candles, cables, leads and left-over food was all stored up in our beast of a vehicle, ready to be driven home. Everyone was exhausted. I have a new-found respect for Tristan and Joe... their technical abilities, and their ability to trouble-shoot every single technical bug we experienced last night (and we really did experience EVERY technical bug... far out - from microphones crackling, the projector not projecting, songs skipping or looping, videos playing out of sync... gargh gargh and gargh again!)

By the time I got home, all I wanted to do was crawl into my bed under my covers and have a good cry. Not because life was stuffed, but because I distressed and exhausted, and needed a hug from my Savior. I left everyone in the kitchen to consume the sausages and eggs I'd fried up (by that time it was about 1am), and went upstairs to have a deep think about the fact I hadn't had a single proper meal for the whole week, and was trying to function with less than 5 hours of sleep every night. I think it all caught up on me today, so instead of watching the final soccer match of the Archbishop's Cup, I fell asleep in the back seat and didn't wake up until the sun had already set.

***

This weekend I realised that God will use or do anything to make sure we all know that HE is in control, and we shouldn't try to be. Sometimes it's really hard to keep remembering that He has a bigger plan than our own. When things don't turn out the way we want them to, the last thing we think of doing is stepping back to take a panoramic view of life... but when we do it's a comfort to know that we are but a single thread in a massive tapestry that is both complicated, but magnificent and truly awesome.

I also realised that there are a handful of people, who, when I see (regardless of how often, or how rarely), always make me feel really happy and grateful for their existence. Deacon Liem is one, Vicky (from WYD Bus 2) is another, and of course Darryl (my little brother), Caitlyn (my niece) and Ivy. These are people who probably don't really know each other, but seem to make my heart feel that little bit more complete every time I see them. Probably because they're just... well... special. Don't know how else to explain it - but they all remind me of different blessings of both the past and the present.

Then tonight, at Tristan's youth mass, I realised that there are some games that will always be challenging, and (regardless of your age) can always be fun. Concentration is one of them. The game where you have to count to 20 in a group of people is another. Sometimes childishness is the only solution when you're exhausted.

Aha... and of course... there's always those things that make life seem ok, even when it's totally everywhere and not ok. Like books you read as a kid (atm I'm re-reading The Adventures of Snugglepot and Cuddlepie by May Gibbs), that phone call from the person that makes you giddy, and a glass of milk before bed.

hey Mr Architect, this one's for you! hahaha

Your results:
You are Supergirl

Lean, muscular and feminine.
Honest and a defender of the innocent.

Supergirl		92%
Superman		70%
Spider-Man		70%
Batman		70%
Hulk		70%
Wonder Woman		67%
The Flash		65%
Green Lantern		65%
Catwoman		65%
Robin		64%
Iron Man		60%

Hahaha... yeah you better recognise! Hehe... jz kidding.
PS. Thanks Aron.

brain fart

Brain fart: (n) A moment when your brain ceases to function, and all useful thoughts related to the current subject fail to surface. [Bec Forrest]

Today, according to Bec, was a total brain fart day. I can't speak for her, because I wasn't around her today (they were doing a retreat for All Saints)... but it's been a brain fart week on my part.

Right now I'm in my bed at the CYS house... lying under my sheets, ready to go to bed (20 minutes til curfew.. whoops) - haven't lay in bed with a laptop for months... I haven't slept in this bed for weeks (I'm only sleeping in here because sleeping with a swollen mouth is highly uncomfortable, leaving me somewhat restless).

I feel like I've moved in again for the first time. I guess coz I brought a whole heap of winter clothes with me (our house to like a tomb in Winter), and also because I plan to stick around the area more often on our days off (I never fully appreciate living right next to the beach - I always have a yearning to go back West and visit friends... or have friends visit me! Buhahaha)

It's good being back with the team though. Driving around in our massive van, listening to "Summer of '69" and all the other typical road trip songs that Boks downloaded. Joe is sporting a spunky new haircut since I saw him about two weeks ago... and they're down at the RSL watching tonight's fight. Sarah, Beth and I lounged around in the kitchen talking about old high school friends and relationships with mothers... (strange girly talk while I took about half an hour to eat about 3/4 of a meat pie), and Bec came in to say hi when she saw my light on....

These guys have become a second family. As we drove down the windy Clovelly Rd this afternoon, I realised there are so many people I know that I never keep in touch with... yet they're still good mates... and I guess that's what makes a good friend - people you don't have to talk to every single day, yet their hearts and insides are the same the next time you see them, be it two days or two years.

Yesterday was cool because Nez and I finally caught up. Went to Mass, had breakfast, and caught a DVD (one of the stupidest teen ficks of all time, mind you - but Christina Milian is a hottie). I figure he's one of those friends. We hardly talk as much as we used to, but I can still cry on the phone to him and he'll still offer that holy, brotherly advice that makes Nez... well... Nez.

I was in bed on Monday night, and Sav drove past, beeped like a maniac and yelled out my name. *sigh* one thing I miss living so far from friends is knowing that they're thinking about you when they drive past your house... but it was fun to hear it again, and feel appreciated.

And then last night I spent about four hours on the couch while Edz tried to console me in my agony. The TV was on, but we weren't really watching, and it was just funny because I'm sure he wanted to squirm because I was squirming, and my cheeks were swollen, so he just kept laughing. Well... laughing, and trying to get me to cheer up without making me smile, because smiling kinda hurts at the moment.

Gargh... why am I reminiscing over such things and such people when it's only gonna make me wanna go home and visit them?! Oh btw... Caitlyn threw up on me yesterday... yes.. .she's a star, I tell you. The most talented little critter... but she can't crawl yet.

Life... oh life... oh life.... dooo dooop doop dooo...

that random day off...

Confession: I haven't showered at all today. Actually, I'm two movies through my chic-flick marathon, and I've practically moved into the living room. I was supposed to visit my sister today, but haven't had the energy... really just wanted to sleep and rest and not think about anything.

So when Roanne approached me with deep thoughts and opinions about the behaviour of particular male friends, I shrugged them off. Not in the mood to get analytical. Not in the mood to hear kerfuffle about boys who don't know what they're doing with themselves (I've had enough encounters with them thank you!)

My cheeks feel like bits of my pillows got sewn into them during the operation on Saturday morning. I was told yesterday that I didn't look too puffy, but I woke up this morning and my cheeks had puffed up with striking vengeance, so I've been sitting here all day, feeling chubbier than Caitlyn, wishing I could consume food that required chewing, because slurping yoghurt, jelly and mashed potatoe doesn't seem to satisfy any hunger I've felt all wkd.

Atm I'm totally crushing on Samuel Ball and Mark Ruffalo - two gorgeous guys (who, funnily enough, are in one of my favourite movies - Suddenly 30), and having just watched that movie, I'm now daydreaming about that particular someone who is just as cute, down-to-earth and funny... and still thinks I'm gorgeous and smelling beautiful, despite my fat cheeks and bad post-operative breath. (Btw i don't actually know if "that someone" exists yet. I figure if he does, he'll know to visit me bringing offerings of taro milk tea with pearls, and an unending supply of hugs.)

This afternoon's major decisions involve:
1. Whether to watch Now and Then OR A Little Princess.
2. Should I call uni and apply for graduation?
3. Should I eat strawberry or orange jelly?

Hehe... yeah life is tough ay?

zzzzzzzzzzz....

Lessons after an NZ experience:

#1 - I can't deal with boys who snore. This whole trip I've tried to stay as feminine as possible, feeling like I need to counter the overdose of testerone I've encountered after two weeks with JUST boys. As much as I love Edwin, Suarez, Nereus and Bokyo, their rhythmic sleeping sounds have left me sleepless this whole holiday... so yeah... *sigh* So much for going home feeling more relaxed ay?

#2 - New Zealand is mighty beautiful. It's landscapes are fantastic, it's animals are funny and it's cities are so much fun. Mountains disappear and reappear behind mist and clouds... and the view from the ferry when we arrived at South Island. *WOW!* breathtaking stuff mate!
(Remind me to show you all a video of the massive bunch of cows we found on the road on our drive from Picton when Edwin and Boks stopped to pee... NZ scenery - what an amusement!)

#3 - Travelling with Boks has been awesome coz his poses crack me up and he's not afraid to walk around, explore a place's lifestyle and culture, and chat up shop assistants and absolute strangers just for the sake of having a good time.

#4 - Vegetables and fruit are integral to one's diet.

#5 - New Zealand ice cream is worth it - even on days when you are sporting a massive jacket, a scarf, a pair of gloves and a white beanie.

#6 - It is possible to enjoy and appreciate a rainy day - so long as you're in Hanmer Springs and up the road from hot thermal springs and have access to a private spa room.

#7 - Fancy schmancy hotels aren't all that worth it after a few weeks in hostels. A bed, clean sheets and a place to shower is all you need. I've learnt that you don't even need a TV - not in Christchurch anyway. Besides, you meet more people and hear more languages when you're in a hostel with travellers who don't have any money... :p

#8 - KFC tastes the same - no matter where you are in the world.

#9 - Peacocks are snobby. We went to the zoo today, and I got snobbed by a Peacock. Far out... talk about depressing. And then Edz fed the giraffe and I got rejected... (I still reckon it's only coz the giraffe knew it was his birthday)

#10 - NZers in Christchurch don't know what Gloria Jeans coffee is. We asked a store assistant if he knew where the nearest "Gloria Jeans" was, and he replied with, "Hmm... I don't know if there's one of those around. But there is a Just Jeans just up the road...?"

And with that... I'm gonna go pack. See you soon Sydney!

backpackers paradise

It's been over a week since I've touched the keyboard. I love being able to walk into a youth hostel, pay $2 and jump on the net for half an hour. Might mean nothing to most people, but for me (who happens to be in a different country right now) it's mighty exciting.
At the moment I'm checkin my mail, Boks and Eddoes are playing Connect Four in the lobby of Base Backpackers in Wellington, New Zealand. I love the feeling of being in a new city. This gives me faint memories of London and our arrival in Athens.

Have been in NZ for over a week now. Last week was pretty action packed - visited some geothermal rocks that were pumping out steam in Te Puia, went white water rafting, lugeing, Zorbing, bungee jumping... had a nice relaxing wkd in the Bay of Islands in a fancy shmancy studio unit and took a (cold) cruise up to Cape Brett... had a pretty dreary day exploring Auckland yesterday, and today was a 9 hour drive down through the North Island to Wellington. Edwin - what a hero. Drove down with only 3 hours sleep coz we dropped off Nez at Auckland airport at 6:30am.

Hmm.. so what now? I'm loving the laid back lifestuly of everyone I've met here. I'm one of those ppl who walk the streets of Sydney trying to get people to smile (man ppl in Australia seem so depressed) but here in NZ, everyone smiles at you - or smiles back when you acknowledge their presence on the road. Had an interesting conversation with Boks about how NZers have adopted (and overtaken the quality of) the calm, accepting and welcoming Australian culture. Come on Aussies? Where's the hospitality? Everyone's so nice to tourists here, but in Oz they're all uptight and critical. Gargh.

I miss home, but I'd seriously move to NZ. Wellington at night reminds me of our nights in Europe in August last year, and I've totally lived up the experience of living with Suarez, Nez and Eddoes for a week. Hahaha... and we saw about 30 Australian YFCers in Sky Tower yesterday, so it was like I didn't miss out on going to conference - we may as well have asked Brian Musa to pull out a guitar at the top of Auckland's tower and start a worship.

I've also realised the value of the PSP coz Boks had the live Jack Johnson concert on a UMD, so we drove down to Wellington listening to him live.... *sigh* Jack Johnson to me is what John Mayer is to my sis Roanne. Only Jack's better... (hehehehe... yeah what? You know it's true).

Man it's late. 11:43pm, but our hotel is just next door (again, somewhat fancy shmancy... with really funky carpet that vaguely reminds me of my Nagle uniform and Eddoes' chucks).

ryan, jonna, jane, roanne, rina, caitlyn, mark, jean, annabelle, mum, dad, anj, kamella, gerry, ian, sav, amardeep and cobes... missin you all at the moment.

Angela's graduating! Wow I'm mega proud of her!! YAY! *sigh* we're all growing up damn it. becoming police officers, travellers, mums, wives, dads, and the whole shebang... it's a bit crazy. And here I am - I haven't even applied for graduation. Hahaha... whoops.

Oh well - I've discovered a new mantra while I've been on this trip - TAKE IT AS IT COMES. Ehp... living life by the day baby...

See ya'll back in Syd soon! Only 6 days to go. Wellington, Hanmer Springs and Christchurch... watch out!

**PS sorry for the typos - Í've got 3minutes left.**