tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77779094336832016812024-03-14T05:57:51.237+02:00Cool RunningsMrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.comBlogger241125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-68259819878736982792023-04-02T15:06:00.001+02:002023-04-02T15:43:53.532+02:00Reverse Culture Shock & Difficult Questions<p style="text-align: justify;">The days are moving on and soon we will be home home. There seems to be a common thought coming through from friends there and here - Prepare for "Reverse" Culture Shock.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">At first I shrugged it off, thinking I know SA, it's home and so how could we possibly be in for culture shock?</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The more I've thought about it, I've wondered if it may be connected somehow to this:</p><p style="text-align: justify;">When we moved here, I wrote about where I would love to live (in a city, near shops & maybe a gym, close to all the action). I didn't get what I wanted, but I got what I needed (space and nature) - and that was better. I've learned how to not be busy, how to enjoy the quiet and my own company.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I've had random conversations with friends about going back to our house and town. I've voiced concerns because as much as I love our house, I'm "afraid" of going back to our town. We've seriously considered selling our house and moving somewhere else, perhaps just within a 50km radius, but I keep coming back to the fact that we have friends there with whom we share so much history, and these are the friendships we've missed. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Having said that, we are not the same people we were 10 years ago - and neither are they. We won't be just walking back into our "old" friendships in the way they looked before, or into our "old" life as though this last decade never was. I won't let that happen, we've experienced too much for it not to matter.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Before we left on this adventure, we were happy, we both worked and had a full and busy life, but I don't ever want to be that busy again. I feel as though God forcibly removed us just to give us air to breathe and space to live. So, this decade has been a time of real personal reflection and growth. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Now, we have to ask ourselves what do we want this next chapter to look like, and how do we want to live it...</p><p style="text-align: center;">However it evolves, we are overwhelmingly thankful we get to live it in our amazing country.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ02QvixhNyiMisJ6k8XaqkhyGb6EsOM3C62uY2X7TzmiZfA4-tPYHKQRCJ3SQVawgVx5L3uC5ac8tqNqnvq4YHE8L3PxfkCx7kL3EOs1Ljh5zPDLVxcKFov8sghq3O8xqaIcHzWQFUIT1Tx2XCKgEDhSVSi_seT-y7W9jPe7RccYlJpJTMUhylP06/s2000/placeholder-about-us-logo.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1025" data-original-width="2000" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ02QvixhNyiMisJ6k8XaqkhyGb6EsOM3C62uY2X7TzmiZfA4-tPYHKQRCJ3SQVawgVx5L3uC5ac8tqNqnvq4YHE8L3PxfkCx7kL3EOs1Ljh5zPDLVxcKFov8sghq3O8xqaIcHzWQFUIT1Tx2XCKgEDhSVSi_seT-y7W9jPe7RccYlJpJTMUhylP06/w427-h219/placeholder-about-us-logo.png" width="427" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-54875068604223649162021-11-08T11:57:00.002+02:002021-11-08T12:04:56.920+02:00Read Between The Lines<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0Qy1fKpo6Sk/YYjs41DTRSI/AAAAAAAACkg/mHNhSMm6_5YN3kFOX1Jp7EWe7GByKjMjQCNcBGAsYHQ/image.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img data-original-height="511" data-original-width="344" height="442" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0Qy1fKpo6Sk/YYjs41DTRSI/AAAAAAAACkg/mHNhSMm6_5YN3kFOX1Jp7EWe7GByKjMjQCNcBGAsYHQ/w298-h442/image.png" width="298" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><i>Sometimes there is a whole lot to read between the lines.</i></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I made the mistake of saying I missed loadshedding at home. FOMO. I guess I should've been more specific, but I thought it would be obvious that I wouldn't miss the ACTUAL event! </div></div><p></p><p>Something about us as a nation, (which you know happens when you are there, and you feel it), is that in a crisis we stick together - because we know we are in it together.</p><p>That is what I mean - I miss being "in things" with my people. </p><p>I know loadshedding, it's been around for like 15+ years, no-one wants it! But when it happens, everyone bitches and grumbles, but we face it together. </p><p>We go to friends who may have a gas cooker, or invite others to us, we remind one another to charge all devices, we buy solar lights for friends and family when we see them for sale, we share jokes and photos about what we are doing during loadshedding. We all loathe it, but we are in it together.</p><p>I'm here. In a vacuum where everything works and there is little, if any, collective glue that bonds you.</p><p>Ja, I can hear you saying <i>"Stop whining and stop feeling sorry for yourself. You're in a safe country, with electricity." </i></p><p>That's fine, you can say that because unless you have been where I am now, I don't expect you to understand, and that's OK. </p><p style="text-align: center;">* * * * </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-14975843172376212522021-07-30T12:32:00.003+02:002021-07-31T07:56:08.959+02:00What are we teaching the kids?<p> It's hard to believe it's the same sport I fell in love with all those years ago.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/clGG-W-pIXQ" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p> I can't help feeling that if everyone just played by the rules we wouldn't need so many officials. Me, living in cloud cuckoo land. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/R-g-1KGAbNI" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p>I have been listening to all the frantic noise from both camps this week. It's not been fun. But less fun was contemplating what messages we are sending the kids coming up in any sport. What behaviour are they seeing? Not only from the players, coaches and the officials, but also the behaviour of spectators, family and friends? </p><p></p><ul><li>Do they think they should win at all costs? </li><li>Do they learn to bend the rules? </li><li>Do they learn that its ok to break a rule if no-one sees you? </li><li>Do they think there is no pride in losing? </li><li>Do they learn that doing your best, is not good enough?</li><li>Do they learn graciousness and humility?</li></ul><p></p><p>What values do we want our youngsters to hold onto in sport, and in life? Do we model them in what we say and how we act? Because watching this tour so far, I am disappointed in both camps for different reasons, and I can't really see many values that I would want to teach my child in it. Not compared to the game 40 years ago. Yes, sport evolves, but obeying rules, etiquette, common decency, they don't evolve. </p><p>I can't help wondering how the Lions & Bok players are affected by the war of words & media ugliness. They are the players but there is all this "noise" going on around them. Like an irritating mosquito. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wnCECvYlE1U/YQPW78vq--I/AAAAAAAACiE/EcqSQvk_AVshPAcVB0Z87KxAdz6pcYz4QCNcBGAsYHQ/s503/Capture.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="420" data-original-width="503" height="411" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wnCECvYlE1U/YQPW78vq--I/AAAAAAAACiE/EcqSQvk_AVshPAcVB0Z87KxAdz6pcYz4QCNcBGAsYHQ/w515-h411/Capture.JPG" width="515" /></a></div><br /><p>This was my FB post before the game, I was so excited to celebrate and now I'm not even sure I want to watch the rest of this tour. It's been so tampered with by coaches, refs and media, that I will be suspicious of any outcome, even if it's positive for us. </p><p>It's not a game anymore. It's a circus. I have never liked a circus. I don't think they're fun. So I just don't go.</p><p>I wish both teams would have a secret meeting and say "Screw everything, let's just ditch alllll the officials, meet at some unknown stadium or better still, a beach, and let's go and play rugby, and have fun doing it!"</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rrtEzEKXFGc/YQTlpF0PAUI/AAAAAAAACiM/Ol296yaw7u8mZXdt0aNlga3genpofoy_wCNcBGAsYHQ/s960/FB_IMG_1592805305044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="423" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rrtEzEKXFGc/YQTlpF0PAUI/AAAAAAAACiM/Ol296yaw7u8mZXdt0aNlga3genpofoy_wCNcBGAsYHQ/w423-h423/FB_IMG_1592805305044.jpg" width="423" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I could add more.... but these will do for this post.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-7888138419957866112021-06-14T10:46:00.002+02:002021-06-14T10:46:20.404+02:00Do It For Love<p> <span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;">*Disclaimer: This is true for me. It may not be for you. </span></p><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11.25px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Whenever I make up a "fitness plan", I fail miserably. For example: </div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Mon: long run. Tuesday: Walk & HIIT, Wednesday: Short run & walk Thursday: Long Hike, Friday: HIIT & walk. Saturday: Rest. Sunday: Long Hike.</div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11.25px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">When I try to keep it, I fail miserably. Every time I fail, I disappoint myself, thinking "This is to make me healthier, and I cant even do that!"</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">But, when I have no plan, and I just go, because I love it.... then it works! </div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11.25px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">As I was running this morning, I thought, I must make a fitness plan, and I heard that familiar voice saying "Don't! Just do it!" (It wasn't Nike <span class="pq6dq46d tbxw36s4 knj5qynh kvgmc6g5 ditlmg2l oygrvhab nvdbi5me sf5mxxl7 gl3lb2sf hhz5lgdu" style="display: inline-flex; font-family: inherit; height: 16px; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle; width: 16px;"><img alt="đ" height="16" referrerpolicy="origin-when-cross-origin" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t57/1/16/1f609.png" style="border: 0px;" width="16" /></span>) I began to think that there is a real spiritual parallel. To be fit, I thought I needed rules to "be the best I could be." But actually those rules just brought out the "why should I?" in me. </div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11.25px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Spiritually, the "you should, you must and you ought to ..... to be a good Christian", brought out a similar feeling in me. So, I questioned. </div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11.25px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">I have found God in the most unexpected places, in the most unexpected people and most unexpected situations because I dared to go off-script. I have been called rebellious more times in my life than I care to remember but it gives me a bit of joy actually. Jesus was not a conventional man, he swam upstream and asked probing questions. Questions are good.</div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11.25px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">In short, I have found that for me, I do my best when I pursue something (or Someone) out of love, rather than out of a sense of required duty. <span style="font-family: inherit;"><a class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 nc684nl6 p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of lzcic4wl q66pz984 gpro0wi8 b1v8xokw" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/grace?__eep__=6&__cft__[0]=AZXbHqRyGhnvXySydvSIP3rmkMPUgCZ5mYNauDNMgsZZhqluWJDmhgbyI5dSbb5CvueltbAqXJqCbi7NkZ9U_cmDFDQ2XZQB0ZhS9TYWbCuw72z80Kaha17mRQJjngW6XPI&__tn__=*NK-R" role="link" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-decoration-line: none; touch-action: manipulation;" tabindex="0">#Grace</a></span> <span style="font-family: inherit;"><a class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 nc684nl6 p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of lzcic4wl q66pz984 gpro0wi8 b1v8xokw" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/love?__eep__=6&__cft__[0]=AZXbHqRyGhnvXySydvSIP3rmkMPUgCZ5mYNauDNMgsZZhqluWJDmhgbyI5dSbb5CvueltbAqXJqCbi7NkZ9U_cmDFDQ2XZQB0ZhS9TYWbCuw72z80Kaha17mRQJjngW6XPI&__tn__=*NK-R" role="link" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-decoration-line: none; touch-action: manipulation;" tabindex="0">#Love</a></span> <span style="font-family: inherit;"><a class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 nc684nl6 p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of lzcic4wl q66pz984 gpro0wi8 b1v8xokw" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/mercy?__eep__=6&__cft__[0]=AZXbHqRyGhnvXySydvSIP3rmkMPUgCZ5mYNauDNMgsZZhqluWJDmhgbyI5dSbb5CvueltbAqXJqCbi7NkZ9U_cmDFDQ2XZQB0ZhS9TYWbCuw72z80Kaha17mRQJjngW6XPI&__tn__=*NK-R" role="link" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-decoration-line: none; touch-action: manipulation;" tabindex="0">#Mercy</a></span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-H4_rKgYBq_A/YMcXSHvum_I/AAAAAAAACgY/iI5xKze8vYAPr3xA4TYok_2myhuNIby0ACNcBGAsYHQ/image.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="645" data-original-width="413" height="439" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-H4_rKgYBq_A/YMcXSHvum_I/AAAAAAAACgY/iI5xKze8vYAPr3xA4TYok_2myhuNIby0ACNcBGAsYHQ/w282-h439/image.png" width="282" /></a></div><br /><br /></div></div>MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-5390644680362251052021-05-17T10:48:00.007+02:002021-05-17T14:32:53.341+02:00Seasons, Forest, Sanity and (kind of) Poetry! :) <p style="text-align: justify;">A few days ago I was chatting with some friends on WA. We are all in different countries from one another and we happened to just pick up on restrictions and things opening up. I had said that I am so looking forward to seeing all my friends again, since I have only seen one friend, perhaps twice a month, since March last year. (I made a conscious decision from the start to avoid any contact with schools, and she has no children.) Thank God she is as much of a hiking fanatic as I am!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2m0JuIeA3Xw/YKIl8vB4IOI/AAAAAAAACdA/0tP_v0P4di8vVA_8Ww5_hXAu2_D6k3FowCNcBGAsYHQ/s1059/Screenshot.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" data-original-height="932" data-original-width="1059" height="270" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2m0JuIeA3Xw/YKIl8vB4IOI/AAAAAAAACdA/0tP_v0P4di8vVA_8Ww5_hXAu2_D6k3FowCNcBGAsYHQ/w306-h270/Screenshot.jpg" width="306" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">One of my friends asked me how I have managed to stay sane. I didn't even need to blink - I knew. Besides being grateful for technology, I know that what has sustained me, has being able to head into the forest.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">On thinking about it further - I actually think that they are one and the same. The grace of God, by way of the forest, has been a tangible, audible, aroma-filled presence in the last 14 months.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I have watched the seasons change. Firstly, the spring blossoms peeping through to warmer weather, then bouncing out in celebration of the sun, the summer followed with hot days, lazy days, sitting next to the river days.....then I saw the leaves turn to gold, red and yellows, soon followed by the bare boughs draped in snow. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">And here we are. Full circle and watching the blossoms and the spring flowers shooting up to celebrate spring again.</p><p style="text-align: left;">(<span style="text-align: center;">I was reminded of a (sort of) poem I wrote in <b>February 2020</b> and posted my "other" blog on <b>3 March</b> <b>2020</b>. Just before Covid, how very timeous it was. It's called</span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span><a href="http://justmyministories.blogspot.com/2020/03/towering-giants.html" style="text-align: center;" target="_blank">Towering Giants</a>, in case you are bored and want to read my little effort! :) )</p><p style="text-align: center;">Yes, the grace of God has seen me through this far.... and grace will lead me home.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TIEoPOOkM-Y/YKIn8jUebMI/AAAAAAAACdY/5lsaTcss1W8cRkJBrgL5SMP_QTlDwLh5wCPcBGAYYCw/s2048/Spring.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1680" height="723" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TIEoPOOkM-Y/YKIn8jUebMI/AAAAAAAACdY/5lsaTcss1W8cRkJBrgL5SMP_QTlDwLh5wCPcBGAYYCw/w592-h723/Spring.jpg" width="592" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XOrObrdupI8/YKIn84sMZsI/AAAAAAAACdc/xzLP4SpYlzUFmjMZv4AFG8yHtVimJdKaACPcBGAYYCw/s2048/summer.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1293" height="942" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XOrObrdupI8/YKIn84sMZsI/AAAAAAAACdc/xzLP4SpYlzUFmjMZv4AFG8yHtVimJdKaACPcBGAYYCw/w596-h942/summer.jpg" width="596" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mud9wiVYDW4/YKIn8u6Ky3I/AAAAAAAACdc/biZsxZ2r9Xsa36BIr-kGoA3RCRqmo8_dACPcBGAYYCw/s2048/Autumn.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1935" height="639" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mud9wiVYDW4/YKIn8u6Ky3I/AAAAAAAACdc/biZsxZ2r9Xsa36BIr-kGoA3RCRqmo8_dACPcBGAYYCw/w602-h639/Autumn.jpg" width="602" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UOpWWgcJ030/YKIn9jySB7I/AAAAAAAACdU/SNb4BKDbWckCEXe8e-tNMzD_wECdWPZkgCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/winter.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1878" data-original-width="2048" height="545" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UOpWWgcJ030/YKIn9jySB7I/AAAAAAAACdU/SNb4BKDbWckCEXe8e-tNMzD_wECdWPZkgCNcBGAsYHQ/w595-h545/winter.jpg" width="595" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Peace be the journey.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cool Runnings.</div><br /><p></p>MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-39910851070621059152021-03-22T15:34:00.011+02:002021-04-12T08:13:16.493+02:00"24/7 and 365, you made another day, made it alive"<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I popped out for a short run this morning. I don't usually use headphones, but today I thought I would look for a playlist to keep me company. I chose the Spotify Mood Booster. (It was not a great weekend). As I was jogging along, I was reflecting on the past year. What was I feeling this time last year?</span></span></p><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="dnp6n-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="dnp6n-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span data-offset-key="dnp6n-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;">Anxiety</span></span></li><li><span data-offset-key="6ndec-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;">Fear of the unknown</span></span></li><li><span data-offset-key="f2esh-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;">Concern for family & friends</span></span></li></ul></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="d43i7-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="d43i7-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="d43i7-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><u><b>BUT</b></u> with all of those emotions, I also felt overcome with the sense that we, humanity, were connected and <b>in this together.</b> </span></span><span style="font-family: arial;">That we had this time to hold each other up, to show care, compassion and selflessness. </span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="d43i7-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="d43i7-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;">To realign priorities and to make changes. </span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="d43i7-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="d43i7-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="g5up-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="g5up-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="g5up-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;">While I was thinking this, a song on the playlist came on, by Sia, I'd never heard it before this morning:</span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="9mrq4-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="9mrq4-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="9mrq4-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br data-text="true" /></span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="2c1b4-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="2c1b4-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="2c1b4-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;">"<i>24/7 and 365</i></span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="9nksa-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="9nksa-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="9nksa-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>You made another day, made it alive</i></span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="5d8h0-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="5d8h0-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="5d8h0-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Made another day, made it alive</i></span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="frh72-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="frh72-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="frh72-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>So today, baby, remember it's okay</i></span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="9jt8c-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="9jt8c-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="9jt8c-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>We're all floating through space (floating through)</i></span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="h186-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="h186-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="h186-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Today, baby, remember you're okay</i></span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="8efp2-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="8efp2-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="8efp2-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>We're all floating through space (floating through)</i></span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="6oovv-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="6oovv-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="6oovv-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Floating through, floating through</i>.." </span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="87g0i-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="87g0i-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="87g0i-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br data-text="true" /></span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="d3ijk-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="d3ijk-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="d3ijk-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;">And that's how I feel a year later: 24/7 365. Made it through another day alive. (As a friend pointed out to me this morning - that's better than the alternative! Yes, very true, and I'm so grateful).</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="d3ijk-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="d3ijk-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="6v16a-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="6v16a-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="6v16a-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;">But I don't feel that connection to the world anymore.</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="6v16a-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="6v16a-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="f4rib-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="f4rib-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="f4rib-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;">I feel disconnected.</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="f4rib-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="f4rib-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;">Some days I even feel forgotten.</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="f4rib-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Each man for himself.</span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="f4rib-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Keep your thoughts to yourself.</span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="f4rib-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Don't say anything in case you offend.</span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="f4rib-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Each man for himself.</span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="f4rib-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In it alone.</span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="7vhqa-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="7vhqa-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="7vhqa-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;">Just floating through space.</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="7vhqa-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="7vhqa-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;">Getting through another day, alive.</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="7vhqa-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><br /></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="eo5ok-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 11.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="eo5ok-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="eo5ok-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br data-text="true" /></span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="2ps72" data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0" style="background-color: white;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0" style="color: #050505; direction: ltr; font-size: 11.25px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;">As soon as those words filtered through my brain, I remembered "The Pale Blue Dot" - and I know that while I may feel disconnected for the moment, I'm not forgotten. </span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0" style="color: #050505; direction: ltr; font-size: 11.25px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0" style="color: #050505; direction: ltr; font-size: 11.25px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;">I am a small piece of a significant whole, and the whole is not alone.</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0" style="color: #050505; direction: ltr; font-size: 11.25px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0" style="color: #050505; direction: ltr; font-size: 11.25px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0" style="font-family: arial;"><span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-gr_7GT4rjqs/YFiXtFDX3mI/AAAAAAAACaE/hiJgpAPet14SrlIhZgQgKYjhENmtU5FegCNcBGAsYHQ/image.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="358" data-original-width="636" height="331" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-gr_7GT4rjqs/YFiXtFDX3mI/AAAAAAAACaE/hiJgpAPet14SrlIhZgQgKYjhENmtU5FegCNcBGAsYHQ/w588-h331/image.png" width="588" /></a></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0"><span><br /></span></span></div>"</span><em style="background-color: lightgrey; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0a0a0a; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal;">Look again at that dot. Thatâs here. Thatâs home. Thatâs us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every âsuperstar, âevery âsupreme leader,â every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there â on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam." </em></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0" style="color: #050505; direction: ltr; font-size: 11.25px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0" style="font-family: arial;"><em style="background-color: lightgrey; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0a0a0a; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal;">- Carl Sagan -</em></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I am grateful for a new day on this mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.... on this<a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.com/science/article/first-person-see-pale-blue-dot" target="_blank"> pale blue dot</a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0" style="color: #050505; direction: ltr; font-size: 11.25px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span data-offset-key="dam8e-0-0"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-13574737420394659172020-11-08T16:50:00.009+02:002020-11-13T08:21:34.633+02:00It's OK to not always be OK.<p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #222222;"><b><u>Warning:</u></b> </span><span style="color: #222222;">Vulnerability</span><span style="color: #222222;"> ahead.</span></span></span></p><span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Today, I had to stop midway through my run to accommodate an unexpected meltdown. <br /></span></span><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"> couldn't breathe. </span><span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I was suddenly just so sad and so angry. I</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"> remembered reading that I should find things of different textures / colours / shapes. Try to distract myself from my thoughts.</span></span></div><div><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">I got off the path, sat on a log and just cried.</span></div><div><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Angry at having online conversations instead of in real life conversations, </span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Angry with always being at home</span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Angry at having no family near me</span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Angry at not knowing when I will see my family</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Angry at not knowing where this all ends</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Angry at feeling so out of control</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Angry at the forest, because I wanted the sea</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Angry at myself for feeling angry.</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span>And when the anger subsided, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of sadness and loss. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">It all came out in a wave. Sometimes, it feels too much. </span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span>I feel as though I am in a kids playpen: n</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">owhere to go, nothing new to see and no way to get out. </span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Trapped. Trapped and slowly starving.</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">I just wanted to go home, to where I could pop to the beach, drive a few hours to mountains, drive a few more to wildlife....so many places to see and yet never leave the country. The world in one country.</span></span></div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--uoYDUbUUtI/X6gIZyXPqVI/AAAAAAAACTs/zISrTMOGpgAW-FbsIp8UDi0rC-d_VfL_QCNcBGAsYHQ/s900/FB_IMG_1585717713413.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="873" data-original-width="900" height="263" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--uoYDUbUUtI/X6gIZyXPqVI/AAAAAAAACTs/zISrTMOGpgAW-FbsIp8UDi0rC-d_VfL_QCNcBGAsYHQ/w345-h263/FB_IMG_1585717713413.jpg" width="345" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><i>Charlie Mackesy</i><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Some days I just have to admit that I'm not doing OK. Like in my <a href="http://peace-be-da-journey.blogspot.com/2020/07/hope-deferred.html" target="_blank">last post</a>, (and admittedly that is just as relevant even though it was written months ago). Other days I feel like I am totally handling.</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Life is not always a walk in the forest, it's not always hedgehog houses and Jerusalema dancing. It's important to acknowledge that days can be tough too.</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Today, I am not handling. And that is OK. I will make some tea, a hot water bottle, and read my book.</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Tomorrow is a new day to be OK.</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div></div>MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-89202610410616695922020-07-24T09:25:00.005+02:002020-09-10T15:10:38.607+02:00Hope Deferred<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I just need to write today. It probably won't make sense, but I need to just get it out.<br />
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Just been feeling flat. It's been a really tough few weeks. Usually it passes, but it's moved to a feeling of emotional drain & mental fatigue which has to do with a few things, obviously all based on the Covid season we find ourselves in. Everyone is feeling some form of anxiety from it.</div>
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<li>I miss my family. I know I live far away and should be used to not seeing them. Even if I was there, I wouldn't see them anyway right now. I know that if I went past my parents house, and could only wave, it may be even worse, so close and yet so far....but if I was there, somehow knowing we are, at least, in the same country I would feel better. When people at home say they miss family, I totally get that, but I try not to dwell there because they can actually get to their family if they chose to, I can't make that choice. That is what is so hard, so I cannot keep rehashing the "friends and family" regulation conversation, because every time it reminds me that I don't even have a choice to drive to them and wave over the wall. At least I am used to talking to them using Tech, but I always thought that we could go home whenever we wanted to, but now it is actually physically impossible to get there. When will flights be normal again? Usually I have a date that we fly there, and I have this in mind, it is something to look forward to, but I don't have that now. When will I see them again? I don't know. </li>
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<li>I miss my country. In spite of the rubbish. I think also that when I try to speak to people there, and convey that we are going through similar things here, trying to find a commonality with them, to feel like we are going through things together, I often get told that I don't know whats going on, because I don't live there. It makes me feel like an outsider when all I want to do is feel like we are in it together, like I still belong there. We have not emigrated. I haven't stopped caring about home like a lot of Saffers do, they move because they are p'd off with SA; that is not us. We follow the news, we know what is happening, but I cannot even communicate that because when I try to feel part of it by sharing a common experience, or sharing what is happening here for us, no one cares, they only care about SA, because that is where they are. They live in one country, but I live in two. Somehow this makes me feel as though they don't care about us either. There have been a lot of conversations where my thoughts are dismissed as uninformed, or even unnecessary. I feel as though I am doing this on my own now, and alone. I don't want to engage in anymore conversations, because the wound is freshly reopened with every one, and with every one I feel further from home, when it's the only place I want to be. Sometimes I find myself wondering if we shouldn't just stay here... who would've thought that it may be the attitude of my people that would make me consider this huge step.</li>
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<li>I feel so disheartened. A month or so ago, we were reporting only single digit cases, it was exciting to think that our lockdown, and being home all that time, had paid off and we may be able to get out again. Then schools went back, youngsters began partying in big groups and now we are back to 100s of cases each day, and it appears that no restrictions are going to be put into place again. I feel as though I have spent all this time at home for nothing now... I have to start all over again, trying to keep safe so I can one day go home and see my family, while others feel its absolutely fine to go out and party, because they are young and selfish.</li>
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<li>I feel very isolated and a bit lonely now. I am not taking public transport at the moment which means I am home. All the time. This last week I have gone to bed in tears, and woken up basically in tears, because I just don't know what to do with myself anymore. There is only so much you can run, or read. I just am sick of my days. Then I read about what is happening in South America and India, and loads of other poorer countries, and I give myself a slap, and feel so ashamed of my attitude, because what is boredom compared to what they are going through? What is anything really, compared to what they are going through? I always "hate" when people say they are bored, but I have puzzled, and baked, and coloured in, and gardened and knitted... but none of these replace getting out of the house. I just.. I just feel.... I don't know. Finished?</li>
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I don't want to feel sorry for myself because I know that I am not alone in this. Really I feel more sad than sorry. I am reminded of Prov 13:12: "Hope deferred makes the heart sick..." and my heart feels sick. </div>
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Yes, that's how I feel. My heart feels sick.</div>
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-46222464149164254582020-06-09T09:13:00.001+02:002020-06-09T09:13:09.804+02:00Poetry 1 - Breath<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">breath in mist,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">fall to the ground<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">devoured by hungry mud.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">Whispered prayer,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">floating on breezes of dreams imagined,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">laying hold of naked outstretched arms<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">clinging with every letter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">to this rooted certainty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">LG â 9/1/2020</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">(<u>Photo cred</u>: MrsLG)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">Posted originally on <a href="https://justmyministories.blogspot.com/2020/01/forest-talk.html" target="_blank">My Mini Stories</a>.</span></div>
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-48660288667062131982020-05-06T09:48:00.003+02:002020-05-07T10:04:29.849+02:00The best, not the worst. The beautiful, not the ugly.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Yesterday I headed out for a run to "My Tree". (I don't worship it, in case you are thinking that, but it is a type of altar that reminds me of <a href="https://peace-be-da-journey.blogspot.com/2016/02/how-do-we-look-me-and-you.html" target="_blank">what God spoke to me before</a>).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I really felt like I lost my grip on peace this last week. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I took a run to my tree and just stood there for a while, I suppose waiting for Him. He never behaves the way we hope or expect him to. It's annoying. :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Honestly I didn't hear my Fathers voice at all. I took a few photo's (as I do in the forest), and continued my run. I felt better. It's always really good for me to get out. So even though I never had any epiphany at my tree, I was satisfied by the run.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I got home and checked the photo's. I decided to play with some of the effects and this photo is the one of my tree. I did not choose it to look like this. I just clicked <i>"Colour Point</i>", and the app did it on its own. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was when I saw this picture, with my tree green, and the surrounding trees largely grey and black, that I was reminded of this piece of wisdom:</span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m7yNgMxkNm0/XrJd8L0te4I/AAAAAAAACLk/imC7KL_7TSM_JciUI1H-s9S9cdvsoC8QwCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="601" data-original-width="424" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m7yNgMxkNm0/XrJd8L0te4I/AAAAAAAACLk/imC7KL_7TSM_JciUI1H-s9S9cdvsoC8QwCNcBGAsYHQ/s400/2.jpg" width="281" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Phil-4-5" id="en-NIV-29448" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"> "The Lord is near.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29448G" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29448G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Phil-4-6" id="en-NIV-29449" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">Do not be anxious about anything,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29449H" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29449H" title="See cross-reference H">H</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29449I" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29449I" title="See cross-reference I">I</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> <span class="text Phil-4-7" id="en-NIV-29450" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">And the peace of God,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29450J" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29450J" title="See cross-reference J">J</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> which transcends all understanding,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29450K" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29450K" title="See cross-reference K">K</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><span class="text Phil-4-8" id="en-NIV-29451" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirableâif anything is excellent or praiseworthyâthink about such things."</span> </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>(Phil.4:4-</i>8)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i>*The Message version in Contemporary English, which</i></span><i style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> I love as it's more relatable for today, </i><i style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">can be read below.</i></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I had allowed myself to be bogged down by news, by opinions, by statistics and information. It's wise to know what's going on, we <b>cannot be ostriches</b> - but when we focus solely on the negative, it becomes overwhelming. This text, together with this photo of the </span><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">green tree</span><span style="color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> in the bleak surroundings, reminds me that:</span></div>
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<li><span style="color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You can <b>choose</b> where to place your focus</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">T<b>he Lord is near</b></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He is <b>with us</b> in the bleak place</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We can tell Him our anxieties and fears. Pray about <b>everything</b></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Replace </b>the anxious thoughts with ones that are pure, true, right, admirable and lovely</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Focus on the Green, the Author, and <b>peace will come</b>.</span></li>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He just gave me the recipe for finding peace! </span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He always comes through - just not always when or where we expect it!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Because no one loves us like He does.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Cool Runnings.</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Peace be the Journey. </i></b></span></div>
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<u><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>* Or from The Message:</i></span></u></div>
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<span class="text Phil-4-6-Phil-4-7" id="en-MSG-12503" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Donât fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of Godâs wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. Itâs wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.</span></span></div>
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<span class="text Phil-4-8-Phil-4-9" id="en-MSG-12504" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Summing it all up, friends, Iâd say youâll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, graciousâ<b>the</b> <b>best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse."</b></span></span></div>
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-64666499010778709322020-05-02T17:50:00.002+02:002021-04-12T08:23:11.568+02:00Speak without hurting<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
About 25 years or so ago, a friend gave me a note that had the scripture in it, about allowing your speech to always be gracious and seasoned with salt - I asked her about it, and she told me that she had always appreciated my honesty, but that sometimes I could be a bit blunt and that not everyone understood that, and that I could hurt peoples feelings.<br />
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I remember feeling mortified by that, and at the same time so grateful to her for being brave enough to tell me something, that potentially could have sparked a very different reaction. I prided myself on being forthright, probably because it is what I appreciate most in my friends with me, and I thought others would appreciate it too, but I never wanted to intentionally hurt anyone or offend anyone.<br />
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I basically just breathed "God help me" at that moment. I don't always get it right, but over the years I feel as though I do think about the other person before I speak - even though there are times I just know that a witty blunt comment would be so much more fun to make!<br />
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May 1 2020, was a cross-over day for me. I have never been confrontational on Social Media. I prefer face-to-face conflict where we can hear one anothers tone, and see the body language. Yesterday though I was confronted with posts that challenge my "new" self. I was torn, do I say what I think irrespective of whether it is confrontational, or not? Do I let people continue to think I am this person who never ruffles feathers, or do I say what I think?<br />
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I decided, what the hell, let me say it, only to realise that actually my opinion is wrong, given without insight, and basically not needed or wanted. At first, I was hurt, and then I was disappointed. I didn't expect that reaction. I even felt slightly betrayed by my own kind! :D (I know, a bit dramatic, but hey-ho). Why, if you post something controversial, can you not deal with controversy - or at least hear the reason for the other viewpoint? Do you need to be in agreement with the person posting - is that the etiquette?<br />
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I feel like I just want to go back to my "old self", and post controversial posts just to get a reaction, so that I can react and be my old blunt self. Who gives a crap who I hurt.... But I cannot go back to being that person and I don't want to be like that, condescending and so cock-sure of everything, that it's their way or no way.<br />
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It seems that as far as controversial posts go, you cannot comment if you want to say something that doesn't verify the posters point of view. Or that if one is known as a "controversial poster", then it's OK to make controversial comments because "that is who you are" and "how people know you".<br />
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But God help you if you are just an average person posting pictures of forests who suddenly says something confrontational - that will just not do!<br />
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SO this is my pity-party for today. I really want to post the come-backs and replies I had in mind. I was itching to. But I can't. Or I won't. Because speech, grace, salt... and all of that.<br />
<br /><i><span style="color: #cc0000;">*I needed to vent, so this is just my private vent. I am not sharing it anywhere, so it is not a veiled "I'm frustrated at you" post. :)</span></i><br />
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#Lockdown2020<br />
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-82161521690490904422020-04-22T12:21:00.002+02:002020-04-22T12:21:17.795+02:00Oh! How things change...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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(Boring but random lockdown notes ...)</div>
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Me at Day 1 / Week 1 of Lockdown: "I am going to use Flylady. Everyday do something in my home to spring clean it. <div>
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<li>Monday: (Kitchen / Bathroom 1): Unpack kitchen cupboards, clean shelves, repack. / Sort bathroom cupboard</li>
<li>Tuesday: (Kitchen /Bathroom 1) Wipe down kitchen cupboards / Wipe down tiles in bathrooms</li>
<li>Wednesday: (Kitchen / Entrance) Clean stove / oven and backsplash /clean extractor filters /Clean window in entry.</li>
<li>Thursday: (Kitchen / Lounge) Clean kitchen floor. / vaccuum / Mr Min furniture</li>
<li>Friday: (Kitchen / Lounge) Wipe down door frames / Lounge windows".</li>
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What actually happened in Week 1 - Hmmm. I think I did wipe down the cupboards. Can't really remember. That was, after all, five plus weeks ago (or is it six? I've lost track). I have done two or three of those things in the last 6 weeks, but certainly not in week 1, where it was intended.</div>
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All those wild fantasies I had: finish knitting that baby jersey for my friend... (who would by now have outgrown it!), putting up those hems, sewing on those missing buttons, doing more Luxembourgish grammar classes, the list really is endless, and none of them happened.</div>
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I have long since given up feeling guilty about doing very little. Although, to be completely honest, I don't think I ever felt guilty...</div>
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I walked into our lounge this morning, and realised we basically live on that one floor. I have moved the ironing board in there, there is ironing on my couch waiting for me. The outside table has been brought inside (until we can put fresh stain on it), and that has my laptop on it, my TEFL work, 3 bottles of bubbles, (I do love blowing bubbles), a yo-yo, my camera, a colouring-in book and other bits 'n pieces. The bird food is in there, sewing kits, dogs, husband, puzzles, crafty things (that I planned to do, and have not done), books to read (that I planned to read, but have not gotten to yet)..... all this to say that basically in spite of my best attempts to clean up and do stuff - we've moved into a room which looks like a war zone and accomplished very little. I don't care. I don't feel guilty. </div>
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In fact, I quite like not caring!</div>
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Annnyyyywayyyy.... I do need to finish my final TEFL assignment - so let me stop waffling about how pottering fills my days and get on with something meaningful.</div>
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Stay safe and stay home.</div>
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<b>#Lockdown2020</b></div>
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-66850657431412288822020-03-27T12:35:00.003+02:002020-03-27T12:46:22.626+02:00Yesterday = Rubbish Day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Yesterday was not a good day.<br />
I cried a lot.<br />
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I had felt very together up until yesterday. Maybe because I am often at home anyway, it didn't feel that different.<br />
Then the reality of everything coming to the end of Week 2, just seem to hit me. After so long, I had expected the numbers to start coming down, but we have not peaked yet. SA, don't be tempted to think that change will happen overnight, or that lockdown is not working - it takes a while, be patient and stay home. I read an article about the emotions we are feeling, and how they are similar to the stages of grief. I realised I had hit the "Acceptance" stage for us here, but I was nowhere near there for home yet. My emotions see-sawed all day, one moment I was fine, the next I cried and went to sleep, and woke up crying, then I was fine, and then I cried again.<br />
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At first I wanted to get angry with myself for being so emotional, but I realise that it is OK, we cannot push such an emotional situation down and expect to feel nothing. So I will cry when I want to, but I will also try to stay off the constant stream of information, and look for the positive to balance it with.<br />
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For now I think I will have to find a routine, which I famously never have. However, it may turn out to be a saving grace. I will get up with My Man in the morning. I will get dressed. That sounds odd, I know, but walking around in my onesie or PJs, feels wonderful on most days, but it feels defeatist to me now. I will do at least 30 min of exercise a day, whether it's a run or a workout, it doesn't matter, and then I will make a list of tasks that I can do each day. For this I happily will use <a href="http://www.flylady.net/d/getting-started/flying-lessons/zones/" target="_blank">Flylady</a> to make sure lots gets done!<br />
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I need to do this to make sure that I don't dwell on what's happening, and become more anxious than I already am. I can't deal with all the "<i>What-ifs</i>", it's too much. I need to learn to focus on today. Not being bored today. Keeping busy today. Being grateful for the safety of home. I am not stuck at home, I am safe at home. Others are safe because we are all at home.<br />
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I know that none of this is from God, and I get acid when I see people infer that this is some "act of God". Nothing evil originates from Him. Sh!t happens in life, it is just like that. I know that He is in this with us, feeling our sorrow and despair, and I know that this is a time we can choose to blame Him or cling to Him. I choose to cling. Always.<br />
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I wish I could go home. The irony is that we always said that when we want to go home, we will just go.<br />
But we literally can't.<br />
So we just have to make peace with that for now.<br />
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Stay safe lovely people, and stay home.<br />
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-24493496692058494442020-03-21T12:19:00.004+02:002020-03-21T12:47:40.868+02:00A bit about me & my "Defining Day."<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Do you feel like you have a day that may have been really significant in some way? A day that stands out for whatever reason. I have so many incredible memories, but none that I would consider more "defining" than this one day.<br />
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I don't like calling myself a Christian. I'll just put that out there from the beginning. It's such a loaded word -with all kinds of judgmental baggage attached to it.<br />
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I prefer to say that I follow Christ, because he is the opposite of judgmental. He made people think out of the box, he mixed with people that were sometimes (at that time) questionable, and he loathed the self righteous. No-one was excluded, his loved extended to all. He is a compassionate revolutionary. This is the Jesus I love.<br />
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This is my story of how I met him.<br />
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<span lang="EN-GB">Have you ever just gotten comfortable, falling asleep, and then you hear the zzzzzz â of a mosquito (<b><i>aka: a mozzie</i></b>)! You flail your arms around wildly hoping that it will become distracted because you canât be bothered to turn the light on and deal with it? As I look back on the journey that is my life I will share with you my â<i>mozzie moments</i>.â Moments that God intervened, uninvited into my world, until one day, I chose to turn on the light and deal with Him.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">My parents, neither of them believers, divorced when I was about 7. My mom got into exploring Eastern philosophies on a quest for truth. However, every now and again she would encourage us to go to Sunday School. It was as though she knew deep down that that was the ârightâ thing to do. The first experience of church I remember was when I was about 9. I used to go with a friend to a youth group every now and again. I remember specifically one day they had a quiz and the question was â<i>What are the first 3 words in the Bible?</i>â and I knew what they were⊠to this day I donât know how I knew them. This group was my first encounter with Jesus. I do believe that during that time, in a way that can only be true for a child, I decided that Jesus was âan OK guy!â</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Fast Forward to 1983. Early 1983 we moved house. I was really happy where we were living, and didnât want to leave my friends, and my boyfriend, who I adored, but work transferred us and we had to go. I did not take the move well. I became rebellious, I was not pleasant to have around, and I know that during that time, I'm ashamed to say that I hurt a lot of people that I loved dearly. I was not myself, and I wish I could find them all and apologise. Anyway, it was decided that I was getting a bit out of control so I was put into boarding school. I remember it with mixed feelings but the most significant event in my life was to happen there. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">It was then that a Youth for Christ group came to town. My friend and I, who had nothing better to do at the time, decided that we would go! I cannot remember what their presentation was about, but what I <b><u>do</u></b> remember is that I heard three things by the end of it:</span></div>
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<li><span lang="EN-GB">God knows me,</span></li>
<li><span lang="EN-GB">God loves me, and</span></li>
<li>I could really know God too.</li>
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<span lang="EN-GB"> </span>I must say that even at my most rebellious, it never felt like that was really me. I had always had a âspiritual awarenessâ: There was never a time that I didnât believe in God, or in Jesus - But I never made any conscious choice to pursue Him. In hindsight, it became clear that all through the years he had reminded me that He did in fact know me. Moments where he zzzz around and made His presence known, (these I call His uninvited mozzie moments!) but I either brushed Him off - or at best, discussed Him.</div>
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<b><u><span lang="EN-GB">Mozzie moment 1:</span></u></b><span lang="EN-GB"> This is my first Bible. This I got in 1978. What made my mom give my brother and I a Bible each, is a mystery. I even remember where we first started reading. We read John. No-one told us to read John. We just did. God knew me at 11 reading An Authorized King Jamesâ Version of John. (That is old EnglishâŠ. but we read it). </span></div>
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<b><u><span lang="EN-GB">Mozzie moment 2: </span></u></b><span lang="EN-GB"> I slept over at a friends house one Saturday evening and the following day I went to Church with them. There was communion, and I remember my friend saying to me that I couldnât go up for communion because it was only for Christians. But I remember feeling a bit bewildered being the only kid left in the pew while everyone else went up⊠but it was another reminder, another nudge, another zzzz in my ear. </span></div>
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<b><u><span lang="EN-GB">Mozzie moment 3:</span></u></b><span lang="EN-GB"> When I was in Std. 5 (about 12 yrs old), my brother and I had a debate about whether to raise your arms or kneel before God if you are praying. Where did this conversation come from? I still do not know. We were completely un-churched and the usual idea of prayer is quietly folded handsâŠ.</span></div>
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<b><u><span lang="EN-GB">Mozzie moment 4:</span></u></b><span lang="EN-GB"> When I was in Std.7 I received a chain letter. Those things that say if you donât send it out to however many people, by whatever time, something dreadful would happen to you. The first person I thought to ask what to do with this letter was the minister at the little church where we lived. Somehow I knew that He would have the right answer. Indirectly then, I think, I was trusting God for the answer. Because He was Gods spokesperson.</span></div>
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<b><u><span lang="EN-GB">Mozzie moment 5:</span></u></b><span lang="EN-GB"> Then in about Std. 7 or 8 (approx 15 yrs old), a guy came to our school and gave out Gideons Bibles and did a talk. He asked what the most important verse was in the Bible. I knew that. John 3:16. I told my friend the answer, but honestly cannot tell you where I heard it, or how I knew it. But I did. I had that Bible right up to Matric (last school year), I carried it in my blazer pocket, I still have it, and it is interesting to see the things that I wrote in it and what I underlined.</span></div>
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<b><u><span lang="EN-GB">Mozzie moment 6:</span></u></b><span lang="EN-GB"> I used to go horse riding often, it was the one thing that I loved to do more than anything else in the world. One day, when I was in Std. 9, I had gone riding with friends. We would often ride down to the beach. This one day in particular, I arrived a bit ahead of the group and as I arrived I stopped on a dune overlooking the beach. The sea was blue and clear like the sky, the sand and dunes looked whiter than white, the breeze was blowing. I suppose that it looked the same as every other day that I had been in that spot, but somehow, that day it was just seemed more perfect. I remember feeling that I didnât want to break that moment by breathing or blinking. I had such an overwhelming feeling of beauty and absolute contentment, and remember thinking that if I died right then, then this must be what heaven is likeâŠ. It was a moment that I have never forgotten.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">It was soon after that moment on horseback, that Youth for Christ arrived. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">As I sat there, in that YFC gathering, it became very clear to me that YES! God does know me. He really does and he had throughout my life been pursuing me relentlessly, giving me moments to recognise him, zzzzz-ing in my ear:<i> Lisa, here I am, I know you, I love you, and I would love you to know me too.</i></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">That day, it was the big day, it was the day I said âYes, I do want to know you tooâ.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">The day that separates who I was, to who I am: not perfect in any way, but perfectly and divinely loved in spite of my imperfections.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">That was my defining day âŠ</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Maybe you have had some âmozzie momentsâ too, and not even been aware.</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB">* * * * * </span></div>
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><span lang="EN-GB">Below are two links sharing some of our continued journey....</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uVzUg-4AzTw/XnXmHNlYu5I/AAAAAAAACJk/1cubRBcI4pYrKtgyWQEWGFxZ436UdTs_QCEwYBhgL/s1600/Forest%2Bis%2Bmy%2BChurch.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="411" data-original-width="511" height="257" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uVzUg-4AzTw/XnXmHNlYu5I/AAAAAAAACJk/1cubRBcI4pYrKtgyWQEWGFxZ436UdTs_QCEwYBhgL/s320/Forest%2Bis%2Bmy%2BChurch.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://peace-be-da-journey.blogspot.com/2016/07/theforestismychurch.html" target="_blank">The Forest is my Church</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OhdWTiB83_U/XnXmHBNOV8I/AAAAAAAACJg/W3bEu34cMQsqP-Npi1uIyHicEmKMiWCAACNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OhdWTiB83_U/XnXmHBNOV8I/AAAAAAAACJg/W3bEu34cMQsqP-Npi1uIyHicEmKMiWCAACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/Tree.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://peace-be-da-journey.blogspot.com/2016/02/how-do-we-look-me-and-you.html" target="_blank">How do we look? Me and you.</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dA9VZ79HnGg/XnXk3xy1wPI/AAAAAAAACJQ/T0zP4VJOwtkzKhpg8DWg8eVJuEHC86vagCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Horse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="453" data-original-width="604" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dA9VZ79HnGg/XnXk3xy1wPI/AAAAAAAACJQ/T0zP4VJOwtkzKhpg8DWg8eVJuEHC86vagCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Horse.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">My happiest place.</td></tr>
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-49399522458975776722020-03-03T14:08:00.000+02:002020-03-03T21:34:41.759+02:00A Laugh at my Expense<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As most of my friends know, I have signed up to participate in the <a href="https://runningworldcup.com/" target="_blank">Vitality Running World Cup 2020</a>.<br />
<br />
So I linked my Tracker to their Vitality App, and was a bit concerned when my runs, usually between 4-6km, starting reflecting times of around 10 minutes.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1_Y38PnY4mw/Xl5FW1R15_I/AAAAAAAACIE/5rVcjHjkUIkZmbjz48Sw9Xb4MrN0_LKGwCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Picture1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="212" data-original-width="277" height="151" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1_Y38PnY4mw/Xl5FW1R15_I/AAAAAAAACIE/5rVcjHjkUIkZmbjz48Sw9Xb4MrN0_LKGwCNcBGAsYHQ/s200/Picture1.png" width="200" /></a></div>
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<br />
This had been happening with all of my runs, so I emailed them, and they replied that they were looking into it, and would let me know.<br />
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Yesterday, I noticed that my run was still showing the incorrect time, so I sent them another email....<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JgYg2N5o3DQ/Xl5G_RMxf2I/AAAAAAAACIQ/gS89ytOm578z3SLPFNTQxHu08LcxDhP5QCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Capture.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="104" data-original-width="950" height="70" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JgYg2N5o3DQ/Xl5G_RMxf2I/AAAAAAAACIQ/gS89ytOm578z3SLPFNTQxHu08LcxDhP5QCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Capture.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I confess to feeling a bit deflated, because.... WHY was this happening?? Later yesterday afternoon, I got this reply from them...<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Nq2kv_Eq2Yc/Xl5HXEC5pLI/AAAAAAAACIU/BlyfS5AGroovCR3NQKDkChUD4vrL63VZgCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Capture2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="152" data-original-width="917" height="105" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Nq2kv_Eq2Yc/Xl5HXEC5pLI/AAAAAAAACIU/BlyfS5AGroovCR3NQKDkChUD4vrL63VZgCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Capture2.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
Of course, I felt like such a pawpaw - I had a good laugh at myself - and replied to them. I hope I gave them a bit of a laugh too.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DefcX14dk1M/Xl5HXKSv_kI/AAAAAAAACIY/tbzj2XtencY1nGjzA8g22JCNj6T3bRGgQCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Capture3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="93" data-original-width="881" height="67" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DefcX14dk1M/Xl5HXKSv_kI/AAAAAAAACIY/tbzj2XtencY1nGjzA8g22JCNj6T3bRGgQCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Capture3.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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So, if you haven't already signed up - do it now - and don't make the same mistake as I did!<br />
Have fun.<br />
<br />
Cool Runnings - Peace be the Journey.</div>
MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-64303237732108789472020-01-30T17:04:00.003+02:002020-12-27T19:10:45.799+02:00MIKA - AT LAST!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Anticipation<br />
counting down months<br />
weeks<br />
days<br />
hours.<br />
<br />
Look at my calendar<br />
Is it time yet?<br />
<br />
It's here!<br />
The moment, the hour, the day.<br />
<br />
Comfortable shoes.<br />
That's what's needed.<br />
Nothing else matters.<br />
Don't miss the bus.<br />
Don't miss the train.<br />
Don't forget to breathe.<br />
<br />
A small drink<br />
Some excited dinner chatter<br />
Look at my watch<br />
Is it time yet?<br />
<br />
Long queues,<br />
Languages I can't understand<br />
I don't mind.<br />
It's today.<br />
It's finally here.<br />
I look at my watch<br />
How much longer?<br />
<br />
Squeezing in,<br />
bags are searched,<br />
get another drink,<br />
find a spot,<br />
wait through the opening act.<br />
Look at my watch<br />
Is it time yet?<br />
<br />
Hugged by crowds<br />
shrugged by crowds<br />
jumping, dancing, singing, laughing,<br />
feeling fully alive,<br />
feeling properly happy.<br />
<br />
Afternoon blues<br />
It came. It went. All in a flash.<br />
On a high all day.<br />
Hit the ground with a thud.<br />
When last did I feel so "properly alive"?<br />
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"I'm content" I always say.<br />
<br />
Content.<br />
It's a safe place.<br />
Not unhappy.<br />
Not fully happy.<br />
Just satisfied.<br />
Content.<br />
<br />
I look at my calendar....<br />
when will I feel "properly alive" again?<br />
<br />
* * * *<br />
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-8466233609075699512020-01-28T10:22:00.001+02:002020-01-28T12:41:33.859+02:00Rain<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Looking out of the window onto the forest this morning, I saw flexing trees, sheets of rain almost whiting out my forest view, and I heard the thunder booming out.<br />
<br />
I know that the next time I go for a walk, some trees will be uprooted, while others may show few signs of the hardship they just endured.<br />
<br />
It made me think of life in general. Storms in life come and go. Sometimes the thundering voices around us yell that we are not good enough, successful enough, busy enough. Sometimes the wind of "doing" pushes us so hard to be productive, that it can feel as though we are flexed to breaking point. We continue with rain dampened spirits and cold numbing out any feeling. How we fare in these storms relies on the strength of that which anchors us.<br />
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While I was thinking about all of this, I remembered this clip I saw years ago, and I know <b><u>for me</u></b>, this was a reminder of how loved I am, and that I am well anchored in certainty.<br />
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Anchor yourself to the immovable that will keep you during the storm.<br />
Hold on tight, and know how loved you are.<br />
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I cannot wait for my next <a href="https://justmyministories.blogspot.com/2020/01/forest-talk.html" target="_blank">forest walk</a>.</div>
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Peace be the journey.</div>
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-62846362363097559732019-11-04T16:05:00.004+02:002019-11-07T07:53:14.438+02:00Huge highs and a sudden low.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The last few weeks have been a blur, all I have thought about is rugby. I haven't even looked to see what cricket is on!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The initial blow of losing to the Kiwis in the opening game, was a harsh blow, especially considering that I think we could have won it, had it not been for our "favourite" ref presiding over that game.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">However, as Madiba said, we as a nation, should be judged by how often we get back up, rather than our successes, and get back up we did. We just never give up. We as a nation, are a bit like Faf - we are tenacious and brave, we don't submit to bullies and we give it horns! AND we do it with smiles on our faces.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I feel like I have to write this now to "debrief" after all the emotions of the last few days. </span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tsu15tStvQA/XcAVD0KrbFI/AAAAAAAACEI/cMIzPSLxK10i8nrgeZzVyzZqYdStboFXgCNcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Picture1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="992" data-original-width="1600" height="395" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tsu15tStvQA/XcAVD0KrbFI/AAAAAAAACEI/cMIzPSLxK10i8nrgeZzVyzZqYdStboFXgCNcBGAsYHQ/s640/Picture1.png" width="640" /></span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">We made arrangements to watch the game at a really cool sports bar in Luxembourg City. We had watched the last two games there, and I reckon they knew us by then.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">In typical South African style, I was amped and prepared. I made my banner, I made and printed out some Good Luck stickers, that I stuck onto little chocolates that I bought, to give out to supporters of both sides, I had my flags, shirts, socks, my face paints, I even took my bluetooth speaker so I could pump out IMPI as our boys walked onto the pitch - and, I KNEW THEY WOULD WIN, so I already had Shosholoza all lined up to play loudly at the end. I have never been so ready to be a champion! :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I was fully prepared to be outnumbered by English supporters, and I was happy because we all love watching with the opposition, it just adds so much of a vibe. I had visions of the place decked out in English flags, but not one was to be found. Not even painted on a face! I thought that was so weird! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">A lot of interesting facts came out about this RWC final, and I am going to place them here, although they have been shared a gazillion times online, but this way I have a record.</span></div>
<ul>
<li><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">32 points
is the most SA ever scored in a Final.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The Bokke win margin of 20 pts is the 2nd biggest in World Cup history.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Chester
Williams and James Small, the Bokke who wore the 11 and 14 jerseys in the 1995 World Cup
Final, both passed away in 2019. Our two tries scored in the 2019 Final came
from Bok jerseys 11 and 14.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129;">Today was
also the first time the Bokke scored tries in a Final.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129;">The Bokke are
the only team in history to never concede a try in the Final.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129;">The Bokke
are the only team in the world who have never lost in a World Cup final.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129;">The Bokke
are also the first team in history to win the World Cup after losing their
first World Cup opening pool game.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129;">The Bokke
became the first team in history to win the Rugby Championship (old Tri
Nations) and the World Cup in one year.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129;">The Bokke have
won 3 World Cups in 7 tournaments. (New Zealand could only win 3 World Cups in 9
tournaments).</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129;">Frans
Steyn became only the second Springbok player in history to win 2 World Cup
medals.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129;">Handre
Pollards 20 points today is the most points ever scored by a South African in a
Final.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="background: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Siya Kolisi is the first black Captain of the Springboks. His full name, Siyamthanda, means âWe love himâ (and love him, we do!) and it was his 50th cap for the Bokke.</span></span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Aannnyyywaayyy - we arrived there and "decorated" our corner with SA flags and banners, chatted to people as they came in, probably just annoyed people in general, you know what we're like, talking to random strangers is easy - especially in a sporting environment. Suddenly we spotted another couple come in in BOK shirts. I just rushed over and hugged them! They hadn't booked and it was full, we had 2 seats that were not being used, so I invited them to sit with us, and it was good to have some back up of our own mense (considering we were also sharing the table with an Englishman!) </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">As the guys started coming out, I blared my IMPI out, but ai foeitog, my speaker was only heard by about 2 tables, and so it did not have the impact of Johnny Clegg, but jirre, I tried. I was going to attempt to sing REALLY loudly myself... but realised that without significant Saffer support, I would just look like a crazy person, which technically I don't mind (as you know) but I didn't want to be thrown out and then miss the game. So I decided to just conform to the norm. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Then the anthems. You have to stand people. It's your anthem! Sang my little heart out, tried verrrry hard not to cry - and then, I think I stopped breathing for 80 minutes. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Those of you who had stuff to say about Fafs kicking and Willies catching - I hope you have grovelled your repenting hearts out. We TOLD you there was a plan people!! <u>You mos know Rassie - the man with a plan.</u> (I said that in an Afrikaans accent - can you hear it?!) </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> </span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I had been screaming every time the ball got anywhere near Cheslin - "GET IT TO CHESLIN!!!!!!!!!! </span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">At one point, I thought I may lose my voice! I was so desperate for the loo, (I had a beer with breakfast - holly ha) but I thought I cannot go, because if I go, there will be a try and I will miss it. Eventually, I had to go, and blow me down with a feather, if I did not hear screaming the minute I closed the booths door. I just thought "Dammit Donner, that's so loud the flipping English have scored." I opened the door, and a lady said "You scored!" Freaking heck, for the handful of Saffers there, we made a lot of noise. AND I MISSED CHESLINS TRY!!! I MISSED IT AND HAD TO WATCH THE REPLAY. I did consider just going to sit in the loo for the last few minutes, because maybe they would score again, but I didn't. Obviously. I was too excited.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">That 2nd half, it was all us. They didn't stand a chance. It was such a moment - I don't know if I teared up only because we won, or also because if I could have transported my whole self to Cape Town at that moment, I would have, just to be there for the celebrations. I have realised that we really KNOW HOW to celebrate.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I tried to play Shosholoza - but again, speaker too soft and not enough Saffers to make it happen. Within about 15 minutes the bar had pretty much emptied, except for a handful of English who were just waiting for the next soccer game, and some Saffers. I think that was also a shock to us. At home, we would watch with the opposition, and then hang out together, win or lose, laughing or crying, we would braai and make it a day to remember. It's the FINAL. So My Man and I had a beer, a couple of people popped over so we could all have photos taken together - another Saffer, one Englishman, and the manager of the place. But the place was basically empty.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Then we left. That is really when I wanted to find an alleyway and just tjunk my heart out. I was waving my flag, it was a Saturday morning, the markets were on, the squares were full - and no-one knew what just happened. I was just some woman carrying an unknown flag. Nothing was different. Yet, for us - EVERYTHING was different. It was such a let down leaving the pub. It made the whole morning feel like a dream, and now you've awoken and it never happened. Stuff it, I still carried my flag, and I held it out of the car window all the way home, and put it outside our house for the night. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Sure, there has to be a winner and a loser. England thought they had it in the bag, because, to be fair, they had a damn good series, all the wins... their one mistake was underestimating us. Never listen to the stats. The united force of a whole nation behind a team doesn't adhere to stats.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">On top of that excitement - <a href="https://www.springboks.rugby/en/articles/2019/11/03/Boks-win-three-World-Rugby-Awards?fbclid=IwAR0Qd6vxMBDxAzd6yRRJwzuGBLqakZiz0lOavoORNLMgXmPrAIQw98uQMn4" target="_blank">Our Coach won Coach of the Year, Pieter Steph du Toit won Player of the Year and the Bokke won Team of the Year</a> and the whole darn thing. This is how we celebrate at home. Bokke, you biscuits - we love you!</span></div>
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-82065447386901708092019-10-09T07:58:00.002+02:002019-10-09T12:43:18.846+02:00In Memory of My Aunt...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My aunt passed away suddenly last week. It was so unexpected and we found ourselves reeling in shock, trying to process everything. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I think she would cringe at the thought of this post, and even more so if I had to put a photograph of her on a public platform, so I won't put up a pic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I remember growing up and living pretty close to Aunty L. We spent quite a bit of time there and she was always happy to see me and we would just chat away - I remember one day clearly. I wanted to sew something. I must have been 7 or 8 years old. She found me some brown material, a big piece, I could lie on it, and she gave me some scissors, buttons and bits 'n pieces, and just let me basically destroy that material, which I am now sure, must have been earmarked for something else. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I also remember when I was still little, I must have been cross with my mom, so I wanted to run away to Aunty L. I packed my little old brown box suitcase, and headed off. But I had to cross the road, and I wasn't allowed to without my mom, so I had to go home! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">More recently, our encounters were often while we had both just "popped down to Spar" to find supper, and we would find ourselves catching up in the carpark, rather than over coffee!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She reminded me of a pixie. She wore her hair short, and she was beautiful, and oh my gosh, she was funny. When she laughed her eyes just lit up. She had a wonderful sense of humour and a quick wit. She was a talented draftswoman, and also </span><b style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>so</u></b><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> gifted in the prophetic, often writing out, in the most beautiful calligraphy, a word for people that she had been given for them. She loved Hebrew, and spent so much time learning it, which gave her real insight into Scripture and the Jewish culture that she loved so much.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Having said all that, she was almost reclusive, and I don't think she saw in herself what others saw. She seemed to live her life almost trapped as an "extra" in her own movie, playing a brilliant supporting role </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">rather than being the main actress.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I keep thinking of </span><u style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">2 Cor. 3:17-19</u><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">:</span><i style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"> " Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is</i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span><b style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: italic;">freedom</b><i style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">. And we all, who with </i><b style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>unveiled</i> </b><i style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>faces</b> contemplate the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit."</i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and I am grateful that she is free.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have this image of her, a part of his Bride, seeing Him now with an unveiled view, looking radiant, laughing, and dancing. Seeing Him, and seeing herself as He sees her. She is bursting with joy. She is truly free.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">More people than you ever dreamed would miss you, will miss you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You are so loved.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We'll see you again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Shalom.</span><br />
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-53934507842814641412019-10-01T14:17:00.001+02:002019-10-09T06:50:56.699+02:00#Illbeback<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We are beyond the halfway mark of our adventure here, and we find ourselves saying..... "<i>When we go home, we</i> ..."</div>
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People often ask us why we want to come back, with everything that goes on at home - but honestly, things go on everywhere. Nowhere is perfect, but so far SA is about as close to perfect a place for me. (Funnily enough, foreigners who have been to SA ask what are doing here!)</div>
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Don't misunderstand me, I am not unhappy here, I am completely content - but I am excited that I have so much to look forward to.</div>
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Every time I come home on holiday, and I get out of that plane at CPT INT, my heart skips a beat. I am so warmly greeted by huge smiles and at customs they welcome me home, and I know I am, indeed, home.<b> <i> </i></b> The longer we are away, the more I miss it.</div>
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<b><u>I cannot wait to:</u></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>This is where my heart is. </b><b>This is my home.</b></span></h3>
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<li>smell the sea every morning.</li>
<li>see the whales, penguins, seals and dolphins</li>
<li>feel serious wind, the kind that slams your car door shut, lifts your dress and causes you hair to tangle,</li>
<li>see our mountains every.single.day.</li>
<li>see sunset <b><u>every. single. night</u></b></li>
<li>go for runs in wide open spaces</li>
<li>hear the crickets at night... even if it's behind the fridge!</li>
<li>hear people yelling at one another across the road</li>
<li>feel the energy and the noise and the colour and the accents,</li>
<li>to talk to the petrol attendant, the car guard or lady at the till</li>
<li>to eat fish and chips while watching the sun go down</li>
<li>to go to my "office", complain about the terrible coffee, but live with it because of the view</li>
<li>to go and watch cricket at Newlands</li>
<li>to hear the Hadeda at 04h00, and curse him for waking us up</li>
<li>to be able to jump in the pool after gardening</li>
<li>have varied landscapes around every corner</li>
<li>to have people just <i>"pop in</i>" for a visit on the way to wherever they were going</li>
<li>just be able to see my family whenever I want to.</li>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">#ImStaying</span></b></div>
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-57959782247463069522019-07-01T07:58:00.000+02:002019-10-01T14:21:45.248+02:00About Loss and Worth<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I love feeding the birds in my garden. I only have a couple of varieties that frequent, but they bring me so much joy. I have just witnessed a couple of batches of babies, I have begun to recognise individuals, and have named a few. This will be the last week I feed them, because they need to be wild and free.<br />
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Last week I was watching them, and a whole family of sparrows descended at once, and I caught myself thinking, <i>"Eh, it's just sparrows.</i>" Of all the birds that visit, they are the least colourful, most difficult to recognise individually and most plentiful. </div>
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I was suddenly reminded of the verse where Jesus says: </div>
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"<span class="text Matt-10-29" id="en-NIV-23447" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span class="woj" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><i>Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Fatherâs care."</i></span></span></div>
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God has no trouble recognising individual sparrows. He knows each one and when one falls, he knows, and he cares.</div>
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Recently a beautiful friend of mine passed away. She was anything but a common sparrow. She stood out from the crowd, not because she was 7ft tall, (which she wasn't) but because of who she was. </div>
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M was this extraordinary person who always seemed to be "saving" people. She had a knack of seeing people through their darkest times and always listening. She was one of the most empathetic and compassionate people I've known.</div>
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She was an optimist who always saw the glass half full, with a wonderful sense of humour and a great full-on laugh! We didn't agree on everything, but that didn't deter the friendship. </div>
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She was also one of the most determined people I have ever met. I remember vividly a conversation we had when she wanted to have a baby. She was a nurse, so she had an understanding of the medical profession, and the medical profession had told her that she would never have a child. She was hearing all the usual stuff, "<i>everything happens for a reason</i>", "<i>God has a plan</i>" all the religious cliches that get hauled out. She wouldn't hear them. We sat and chatted and she told me that God had promised her a child, and she listed all the reasons and ways that he had reiterated that promise. I told her to just believe God. </div>
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She did fall pregnant and it was not easy. I remember visiting her in hospital where she had to be for the last few months (I think.) It was a long time. I don't know if I have ever seen someone who was so ready to be a mom or so excited. </div>
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What joy her son brought her - I don't think any child could have been more wanted, more waited on or more loved, than he was.</div>
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M, you were never a common sparrow, we grieve your falling, and you leave a huge gap in so many lives.</div>
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Every time I see the candlestick you brought me from Israel, I remember you. </div>
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Tonight, I will light it in remembrance of you.</div>
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All I know is we will see each other again.</div>
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Until then,</div>
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Shalom.</div>
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-14798875196819299032019-04-26T08:28:00.002+02:002019-04-26T08:40:23.471+02:00OOooo Marelize!! - Cafe de Langues<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
In my continued commitment to learn Letzenbuergish, I signed up for Cafe de Langues.<br />
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For those who don't know what that is, (which was me a few weeks ago, but I signed up anyway), it's basically a "Language Cafe". There are tables set out, each with a facilitator who is a native speaker, then you have a table full of learner speakers with them. The idea is that the learner speakers attempt to converse with one another in the new language, and the facilitators are there to help you if and when you become unstuck with a word, or phrase or grammar, whatever.<br />
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On Tuesday evening, I skipped ever so happily down to the commune, brimming with enthusiasm. Imagine my despair when it was two facilitators (really wonderful, friendly ladies) and only two learners, me and one other lady.<br />
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We sat at the pub, a nice chilled and familiar environment, we ordered something to drink, they all ordered water, and I joked and said I needed wine. (Note: I wasn't really joking). I ordered water. That was when the carnage started.<br />
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2 facilitators + 2 learners = focussed attention! <br />
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I was about to take my first swig of my Spruddelwaasser (sparkling water) when the one lady turned to me and asked me something in Luxish. At that moment, I felt like I was in Std 7 and my maths teacher had just asked me something, and I had no freaking clue what the question even meant, let alone how to answer it. That was just the beginning...<br />
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<a href="https://tenor.com/view/emma-stone-panic-scared-ahh-scream-gif-4655603">Oh My God GIF</a> from <a href="https://tenor.com/search/emmastone-gifs">Emmastone GIFs</a></div>
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Panic.<br />
Intimidated.<br />
Shock.<br />
Horror.<br />
Humiliation.<br />
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After 80 minutes, I was toast.<br />
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I won't lie - I did not skip enthusiastically home. In spite of the patience and kindness of those two lovely ladies, I felt defeated and humiliated, and wondered what the heck I was doing. It was not fun.<br />
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Fast forward to last night which was the second get-together. I tried so hard to think of reasons why not to go: I had to cook (!), I was tired, it was too late.... but there was no good reason, other than that I would have to go through all of that again. So, I went.<br />
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Walking down the road, I sent what was probably in hindsight, quite an emotional voicemail plea for prayer to some people. It would be awesome if they could pray that I would just suddenly know the language, but since I am a realist, I asked them just to pray for peace for me.<br />
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On arrival, it was again, only two of us, myself and another older gentleman this time. We sat in the pub again, I ordered my drink in Luxish, and although I stammered a bit and needed help, I remembered a lot more of what I know and didn't feel like a deer in headlights. Dare I say..... I actually had fun!? God is kind - and I think this episode probably gave him a bit of a chuckle!<br />
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When I left, some of the "usuals" where in the pub, so I went and said hello, asked them how they were, and told them what we were doing - all in simple Lux sentences. I doubt it all made sense - but they are so kind, and I think they like that we try!<br />
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So bring on next month - I should know a bit more vocab by then!<br />
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-82859761426448951782018-11-09T16:54:00.001+02:002019-04-26T07:42:50.505+02:00Mostly about "My friends dog".<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I took a friends puppy out for a walk this afternoon. The weather is still gorgeous for this time of year and I can't say that I mind Autumn lingering - it is my favourite season.</div>
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I used to talk to myself in French when I walked alone, I got very fluent with myself! :) It's always helpful when there is no-one to feel intimidated by!<br />
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Today I decided I needed to talk to myself in Luxembourgish - I was not good company as I ran out of conversation pretty fast, and I found myself a bit boring too. Let's face it, there is only so much of "The sky is blue", "The sun is yellow" & "I come from South Africa" that you can say.<br />
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I eventually started trying to make other simple sentences, like, "This is not my dog." At this point I was reminded of the Peter Sellers movie... "does your dog bite?.... this is not my dog". And I packed up laughing and spent at least two minutes trying to imitate his accent. If there was anyone hidden in the bush, I reckon they had quite a show.</div>
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Eventually I tried to say: "It is my friends dog." This was fine until I got to trying to figure out how to say "friends dog". I reckon that if I said it in Afrikaans, it would be as close as dammit is to swearing, and maybe no-one would notice. "Et ass meng frëndin <i><span style="color: #cc0000;">se</span></i> hond." (I have no clue how right/wrong that is! The "<i><span style="color: #cc0000;">se</span></i>" is the tricky bit!) </div>
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As I was busy trying to decide if it was easier to say "It's my friends dog" or just "it's my friends" (Dit is my vriendin<span style="color: #cc0000;"><i> s'n</i></span>), I heard a noise behind me and a guy on a bike was just about in my pocket! Does he know what a BELL is!? He just laughed and yelled Moien, and cycled on and I confess that I swore under my breath - in Afrikaans. (<i>I took Mariaans name in vain.</i>) (Saffers will understand that!) - which was promptly followed by a "Whoops! Sorry Father, got a bit of a fright there."</div>
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That was the end of my Luxembourgish thinking, I needed to be more alert, and so I went back to "The flower is red", "The desk is brown", and other random nothings.</div>
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OK. Enough rambling now. </div>
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Time for coffee.</div>
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-56582028413678867192018-10-15T09:21:00.001+02:002018-10-15T09:21:57.124+02:00An Early New Years Resolution.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I made my New Years resolution early. Like now, in October. I don't usually make resolutions, because nothing makes one feel more of a failure, than not keeping them for even a day, week or month! However, I am resolute about keeping this.<br />
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About a month ago, after I had been to Adem for advice and back to the Ministry to ask if being here 5 years would make it easier for me to work, and after they gave me the same forms and same story, I went for a walk in the forest with Jack as I normally do. I felt deflated (again), I don't really know why, since I had expected it.</div>
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Suddenly as I was walking along, without warning, I just had this mini meltdown. I just began to cry - out of nowhere, like really sob. I felt like I couldn't breathe, I felt like I was about to pass out. I have only experienced this once before in my life and it was at a time that I was severely stressed out then. I didn't think I was stressed out now though.</div>
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I remembered an article about finding things to touch, and smell and see and listen to, so I did that, and attempted to focus all my energy on not falling apart.</div>
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After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few minutes, I continued my walk and just cried out to God that something had to change. As I walked it became clear that there was only one real option left: I will have to apply for my citizenship here. That is the only way.</div>
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I will never give up my SA citizenship, so it will be dual. However, to do this I have to be able to take what is called the "<i>Sproochentest</i>" - which is the ability to speak, read and write in Luxembourgish up to a certain level.</div>
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I have been so focussed on feeling more confident in trying and making mistakes in French, and now to basically start over in another language, feels like a mountain to me. But hey, it's winter, so I may as well begin the climb. Everything starts with small steps. I have an appointment in Nov to start at the Language school and have signed up for an online course too, with podcasts, notes and a tutor if needed. (<i>I did a few classes at our Commune last winter, but honestly not enough to be of any benefit in this quest!)</i></div>
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I heard a quote from John Cena's book "Elbow Grease" which goes: <i>"If you stick with what you are good at, you will never learn anything."</i> I am pretty good at puzzles in winter - so this winter, I will learn something new - <i style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, Times, serif; text-transform: uppercase;"><b>LĂTZEBUERGESCH.</b></i></div>
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So right now, I am off to my favourite coffee shop, laptop and materials in hand, where I plan to bury myself for a few hours.</div>
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If you are the praying type, remember me - I will also take thoughts, vibes and smoke signals. </div>
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Thank you.</div>
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<b><i>The resolution is to take the test by the end of April 2019.</i></b></div>
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PS. I know you are probably all sick to death of me moaning about not being able to work, but in spite of what it may look like, I am not on holiday here. This is my life that I am living, and in my life, I have always worked because I love it. </div>
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7777909433683201681.post-1282571046313999162018-10-04T11:07:00.000+02:002018-10-04T11:24:39.893+02:00Having a day.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I was just sitting here, innocently doing my puzzle, listening to <a href="http://ndstream.net/magic828/pc.htm" target="_blank">Magic 828</a> radio online, and out of the blue suddenly I had this thought:- "What am I doing here?"<br />
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Maybe it was brought on by the Saffer accent of the Radio station, maybe by the family thread on Whatsapp chatting, maybe it was waving at the plane overhead believing it may be my niece who is arriving on the Continent as I type.... maybe even that we <a href="https://www.supersport.com/rugby/springboks/video/1009064" target="_blank">won't be home to stand arm in arm as we sing our anthem against the All Blacks on Saturday</a>....I don't know what brought it on. I do know that being here was (and is) a divine kindness to us to fulfill a dream of living in Europe for a while so that we could experience other cultures and travel. - and it's such an amazing experience.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b0mM56buAFw/W7XX9nyw7EI/AAAAAAAAB0w/QvZ6zJkwy4od8u4r95UQgJWYpa_if3KPACLcBGAs/s1600/homesick-featured.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b0mM56buAFw/W7XX9nyw7EI/AAAAAAAAB0w/QvZ6zJkwy4od8u4r95UQgJWYpa_if3KPACLcBGAs/s320/homesick-featured.jpg" width="320" /></a>But between travelling and visits, I add no value here (other than being a wife!) I do nothing but keep myself entertained. I could be at home, with<i> My Girl</i> and my family, instead of sitting here waiting for the next holiday or visitor.<br />
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Again - must stress that I am not unhappy. Just purposeless.<br />
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I fear this may lead to being unhappy sometime.<br />
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MrsLGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12899163887667519658noreply@blogger.com4