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).