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Friday’s Tune: Who You Say I Am

29 Friday May 2020

Posted by jennsmidlifecrisis in Faith

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

failure, faith, Friday's Tune


Have you ever noticed that we wear names and titles like a favourite old shirt? They become a staple in our wardrobe, something we cling to as familiar and comfortable. They are unflattering, maybe even off-putting to others. Maybe even to us. But we can’t quite work up the energy or even the courage, to let them go. We feel naked without them; they have become the fabric of us. Other times we know it’s time to throw them out but we are too uncomfortable to go without. We want to wait until something better comes along, but we’re too timid to look for something better.

I’ve worn a lot of names and titles. Some of them were unflattering. 😉

This week, a worship leader shared that she lost her office admin. job in her home church because of COVID-19. She understood, and was still participating  as a volunteer in other areas. Yet she struggled with feelings of anger and hurt, and feelings of guilt for feeling angry and hurt. She was part of things but somehow felt like she was now on the outside. I understood. I still struggle with feelings of anger and hurt after leaving my job too.  I’m part of things but often feel like I’m on the outside, no longer valued, simply because I’m not wearing that title any more. Anger, hurt, guilt – it’s all part of the grieving process and one can’t just snap their fingers and be over it. How I wanted so much to share something meaningful with her that would help her.

 As I tried to craft a written response, God heard the unformed thoughts of my own heart. He reminded me that my title was never Office Administrator – that was just my job. My title is not Worship Leader, or Ministry Leader, or Blogger, or even Mom. My title is Child of God (John 1:12). Everything else flows out from there. Anything else that was or will be also flows out from there.  It’s the only shirt I will ever need to wear.

“Who the Son sets free Oh is free indeed I'm a child of God Yes I am!” (1)

Happy Friday

Lyrics            Youtube
Who You Say I Am © Ben Fielding / Reuben Morgan, Capitol Christian Music Group

Don’t Pursue Better Balance

27 Friday Jul 2018

Posted by jennsmidlifecrisis in Faith

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

failure, faith


Several years ago, I bought a pair of “hooker” boots at the thrift store for $20. I felt fierce wearing them and they fit like a dream, but they just lived in my closet. Why? Because when I wear them my balance is all off. I feel like a little girl playing dress-up in her mother’s high heels. I wore them for this photo…

Jenn2

Hubby’s Favourite Picture

…and then Hubby videotaped me stumbling back to the house across the yard. [I was not impressed.] I’ve seen toddlers and baby giraffes taking their first steps with more grace. It’s miracle I didn’t face-plant in the mud!

We unconsciously balance stuff every day – our meals, our stress levels, our relationships, and that cup of tea in a hand already grasping a purse, a lunch bag and a set of keys! But we rarely understand what’s needed to achieve balance.

In science, an object is balanced if it is stationary or in a state of equilibrium. Forces on the object are cancelled out by forces in the opposite direction. The centre of gravity is the average position of force on an object. If the centre of gravity is mid-point, you’re not going to face-plant, but shift it, and you’ll have mud on your face! I could use lots of other scientific-y words, but I think you get the gist.

Balance is beautiful. Imbalance is muddy.

Car 2
Mudder Pond

And figuring out how to find the centre of gravity – at least when it comes to balancing LIFE – is a continuous journey that usually involves a lot of mud! Often in uncomfortable places… It seems the harder we try to achieve balance, the more unattainable it becomes. We end up falling short, disappointing loved ones, burnt out and buried in feelings of guilt and frustration.

Store shelves are loaded with books on how to achieve it, filled with glossy photos and empty promises. Recently, I skeptically started to read an an article titled “Rethinking work-life balance” in an old Faith Today magazine. In it, the author shared three thoughts on why the problem isn’t about us, but about balance:

  • balance isn’t possible or preferable for our lives;
  • balance may not be biblical; and,
  • balance doesn’t describe great contributors or performers.

First, we live in a fast-paced, chaotic and changing world. We can’t keep up. Second, Jesus lived radically in full surrender of all areas of His life, with constant communication with His Father, in the midst of busyness. He didn’t focus on compartmentalizing his responsibilities or pursuing order, but rather acted in obedience wherever God called Him to act. Third, those found in history books rarely lived tranquil lives, but rather pushed boundaries and pursued excellence.

The author was not advocating abandoning self-care or healthy relationships, nor was he against setting boundaries and managing time. He was advocating deciding what our core priorities are and using them to set sustainable rhythms in our lives.

I want my rhythm to be a Christ-centered life. Therefore, in the midst of chaos, I should remain fully engaged in the responsibilities He has for me, not what everyone else has for me. I need constant communication with God so I can discern the difference between the two. And I need to take time to rest and listen. Not new “advice”, but perhaps a new perspective.

Stop pursuing better balance. Focus on core values. And when you face-plant in the mud? I guess roll over and laugh.

The main thing God gets out of your life is not the achievements you accomplish, it’s the person you become. – Dallas Willard

Happy Weekend!

Good Intentions

13 Friday Feb 2015

Posted by jennsmidlifecrisis in Foolishness

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

disasters, failure, family, food, home, humour


I started the week filled with good intentions. I was going to break out of the February blahs that have infiltrated every area of my life once and for all. I would set goals for my mid-life crisis. I would start to exercise and eat better. I would start writing again
but there always seemed to be something to distract me or I was just plain too tired. We had a serious snowstorm on Sunday. I had to get dressed before 8 a.m. and help Hubby shovel the driveway. And instead of napping all afternoon as planned, I sat worrying about Big Guy who was driving to the city in it. He’s been transferred temporarily to a different crew and it’s slightly closer to drive there from our house.

On Monday, I was privileged to drive in the city muck with all the other morons, to take Little Guy for a hearing test. His hearing, as I suspected, is stellar! That evening I violated a chicken
and Big Guy videotaped it (and if the video ends up on the internet, I will violate his right to life). It was a large chicken and I had stuffed it into the roasting pan, not considering how I would get it out again
I tried to pry it out with forks. Then flippers. Then a knife. Then a big knife. I tried to cut it out but I couldn’t even pierce the skin. When I did finally convince it to evacuate the pan, it slid across the cutting board and nearly kissed the floor (the one with the permanent crusty spaghetti sauce blob). It dribbled juices everywhere, and ended up a despicably splayed hunk of undercooked meat. I had to clean the kitchen floor
again.

On Tuesday, I noticed a strange smell in the house. It started in the basement and slowly wafted up the staircase to the kitchen, rolling along stealthily and seeping into my consciousness. I had to investigate
The odour grew stronger as I crept down the basement stairs, struggling to resist the urge to gag. When I regained consciousness
I discovered that the maleficent stench was coming from Big Guy’s laundry basket. Come to think of it, there seem to be strange odours emanating from my couch cushions too
I’ll investigate when I’m feeling stronger.

On Wednesday, while Hubby and Little Guy were out for the evening, Big Guy and I attacked grunts, jackals, brutes, and engineers. Apparently, I can’t drive in a straight line in a Warthog, but stick a gun in my hand and I will defend my troops. After 2 hours of Halo, I was spent.

On Thursday, I woke up to find out that all the TV channels have switched to digital from analog except for one. An Aquarium channel
with a bubbling motor and ugly fish. I spent Thursday evening lying in bed watching them with Little Guy and naming them. Larry, Curly & Moe keep running into each other, while Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye avoid each other as much as possible. We’re still negotiating the names of the others.

And now it’s Friday morning. With the wind chill, the temperature is in the -30C range. I have to pack my car for a road trip and put gas in it. My car is so dirty that I’ve forgotten what colour it’s supposed to be, and I fear that if I wash it, something will freeze shut and I could be trapped in it until Spring. And another unproductive week has gone by. If the road to some place not very nice is paved with good intentions, can I at least take some pleasure in the hope that it’s warmer than here? – Happy Weekend

Want a Perfect Girl?

06 Friday Feb 2015

Posted by jennsmidlifecrisis in Family, Foolishness

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

"I have failed as a mother", Beverly Goldberg, failure, family, food, humour, Proverbs 31


She is one of the most revered and most hated of all the women in the Bible – the Proverbs 31 lady. She sets the bar high for “perfection” and makes us all feel grossly inadequate. We want to yell in frustration (Beverly Goldberg-style):

“I have failed as a mother!”

Or change mother to wife, girlfriend
even human being if you’d like. The guilt and shame
it’s all the same.

I started reading a book by Marsha Drake, “The Proverbs 31 Woman & Other Impossible Dreams”.  Marsha wrote about her experience in trying to emulate the traits that make up the Proverbs 31 woman. I’m pretty sure that in addition to guilt and martyrdom, this woman was struggling with depression too.  But I’m rooting for her!

The other day I started to contemplate just how well I measured up against this fantastic female figure, when I was distracted by something wet dripping on my foot…it was the package of raw chicken (sadly, thanks to one of our guinea pigs, this was not the first thing to dribble on me this week). I cleaned up the floor first (except the patch of crusty spaghetti sauce –it’s rock hard), before checking the fridge. The package had oozed all over the bottom of the fridge as well, every nook and cranny; I mopped and disinfected it too, while my old lady knees screamed at me. Verses 14 and 15 say “She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar. She gets up while it is still night; she provides food for her family and portions for her female servants”. . I bet the Proverbs 31 lady never had raw chicken ooze in her fridge. I bet her floors were so spotless she could lick them
or she could make her servants lick them.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse – the phone rang. It was some unknown telephone/internet provider trying to sign me up. I politely declined. But this man with the marbles in his mouth didn’t take the hint. Then he made another mistake – he asked me “why not
” So I not so calmly told him: “I don’t have time to chat with friends on the phone or surf the net because I have rice boiling over in the microwave, I have just discovered a cream cheese “science experiment” in the back of the fridge that smells worse than blue cheese (and the aroma hangs like thick fog to choke the unsuspecting and vulnerable), and I’m up to my elbows in chicken blood. Would you like to know a few more reasons?”

He declined.

I’m sure the Proverbs 31 lady would have handled the whole situation much better. “She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come (v.25 ). She would have laughed off the frustration with ease. She would have spoken with compassion and grace
 She probably wouldn’t have old lady knees screaming at her because she would be in great shape from running a marathon last week between “buying a field” and making “coverings for her bed”. And she most certainly wouldn’t be ranting about her failures in a blog post
oh well!

You want a perfect girl?   Buy a Barbie!

Recent “Cooking” Crime Scene Photos

07 Friday Dec 2012

Posted by jennsmidlifecrisis in Food, Foolishness, Photography

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

baking, cooking, failure, food, humour, photography


Every time I cook, it’s a crime!

Eggs3_ed

First Degree Murder

Beets

Beets: Murder and Dismemberment

muffins

Blueberry Muffins: Assault and Batter-y

The "Blob" 2

 Rice Krispy Squares: Assault with a Deadly Weapon

The "Blob"

Rice Krispy Decomp? (feel free to take a stab at this one!)

I guess the only solution…is to stop cooking!

Happy Friday!

“Crunch Time”

05 Thursday Apr 2012

Posted by jennsmidlifecrisis in Family, Food, Foolishness

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

cooking, failure, family, food, humour


It’s that magic hour again – the hour before the evening meal when chaos reigns and everything that can go wrong, most certainly will – it’s crunch time!

The Urban Dictionary defines “crunch time” as “the interval of time immediately before a project is due, when it becomes apparent that the schedule has slipped and everyone is going to have to work like dogs to try to complete the project in time. Crunch time usually occurs during the period between the next-to-last scheduled milestone (prior to which everyone was able to delude themselves that the schedule had NOT slipped) and the final deadline for delivery. During crunch time, workers are in crunch mode.”

Last night, I realized that I didn’t have anything thawed to cook for supper. My freezer didn’t contain any “quick fixes” like [a cardboard] frozen lasagna. Nor did I have time to dash to the grocery store. And the very fact that I failed to plan ahead never ceases to be a shock – it’s not like I cook an evening meal so rarely that my failure to plan can be justified. The fact that it’s after school should be a giant clue that supper time is approaching. In my defence, I don’t really like cooking, and any new recipes that I’ve tried in an attempt to gain experience and expand my horizons have, to date, ended up pretty disgusting. I’m not sure how Hubby feels about being my “guinea pig”!

We had spaghetti (actually it was tri-coloured fusilli, which was all I could find) – it’s pretty easy to thaw ground beef and boil pasta. Disaster averted for another day. Not so the day before. Tuesday and Thursday evenings, Little Guy has karate lessons that require me to take him
right about crunch time! So there I was, Tuesday evening
sausages burning on the stove, rice running over in the microwave (another quick fix), chopping veggies for a salad, wiping drips of water off the floor with my sock (I dropped the lettuce), while explaining a math problem (math is not my strong point), and listening to Big Guy leaving a message on the machine because I don’t have any hands left and the cordless phone is dead anyway! I really wanted to talk to my Big Guy. I didn’t have a “meltdown”
but it was getting close. I know it may be hard to believe – but this is actually an improvement to a few years ago when Little Guy was a toddler…Yikes!

I’ve read several blogs recently with lots of advice and simple recipes, and they make it all sound so easy. It makes me wonder, truly
what is wrong with me? I’ve been a Mom for over 20 years, you’d think I’d have some of this figured out by now, and I wouldn’t get caught by “crunch time” as often as I do. I could confess that sometimes it’s plain old procrastination. I could say that “I work better under pressure” or I could just blame somebody (anybody) else. Maybe I should simply justify it by pointing out all the things I do accomplish in a day so that it’s no wonder my mind isn’t always focused on this important detail in the day. Yeah, that’s the one! I suppose this would be a bad time to point out that I don’t have anything thawed for supper tonight
but at least I have time to fix that
as long as I actually start cooking before “crunch time”! Wish me luck!

Waiting for Little Guy – Part II

22 Thursday Mar 2012

Posted by jennsmidlifecrisis in Faith

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

babies, Bible, blessing, disappointment, failure, faith, family, fertility, fruitful, hope, infertility


My favourite Bible teacher, Beth Moore, believes that God gave women 4 girlish dreams: 1) to be a bride; 2) to be beautiful; 3) to be fruitful; and, 4) to live happily ever after. I also believe that God does not give us dreams that He is unprepared to fulfill or replace with a grander dream of His own. He doesn’t always fulfil our dreams as we expect or ask. Today I’m going to focus on #3, to be fruitful – for now, let’s view “fruitful” as having children. But what if, for some reason, you couldn’t have a baby, you’re infertile?

Infertility is defined as the inability to conceive within 12 months. It is estimated that 1 in 6 couples will experience infertility. Some people say that in our culture, children are no longer a prerequisite to a full life, there aren’t the same expectations or pressure to have offspring. But when your biological clock is ticking…and it’s LOUD
 and you want a baby SO badly that it’s all you can think, all you can see around you, all you could dream about at night, all rationalization goes out the window! The heart takes over. It’s not something we talk about openly. Deep down, an infertile woman struggles with shame, guilt and an overwhelming sense of “failure”. Satan can sow shame in virtually any soil; infertility is fertile soil.

In 2003, my husband and I decided to have a baby. We had been married 7 years and there were many times over those 7 years that I wondered if we would ever both be at that place. Before trying to conceive, I asked God “to close my womb” if it was not the right thing for us, or not the right time for us. I wanted God’s will to be done in my life. I don’t know what prompted me to pray this way
but God answered, and as the months passed, the disappointment, the obsession, the sense of failure, and all the questions grew. It seemed there were pregnant women every where I looked. I dreamed about babies. I remember having a dream so vivid, that when I woke up I could still feel a baby in my arms. And it seemed at that time that other areas in my life started to fall apart as well. To put it bluntly, I felt like I was in a dark hole with no escape, I was drowning and there didn’t seem to be anyone close by, not even God. I begged, I raged, I bargained, I tried to ignore God; sometimes I simply sat with Him because I had no more words. I still wanted His will, I knew that even in my current anguish (for lack of a better word), He could be sparing more suffering if He answered my prayer, but it was not His best for me.

In 1 Timothy 1:19 Paul wrote to Timothy “I give you this instruction
so that by following them you may fight the good fight, holding on to faith and a good conscience. Some have rejected these and so have shipwrecked their faith.” I had a choice – keep swimming by looking to God and living faithfully, or let my faith be shipwrecked. If I let my faith be shipwrecked, where else would I go?

Eventually we were referred to a fertility specialist who ran some tests. I already knew there was no physical reason we couldn’t have a baby. We elected to try the least invasive treatment, but if it didn’t help in 3 months, it wasn’t going to work. During that second month, I re-read Hannah. And that Friday morning, I prayed and I sobbed (as I had done before more times that I can count), but when I finished, I felt for the first time in a long time, that I could breathe. God was rescuing me – I wasn’t going to drown, I had hope and peace, and joy. God had another plan for me, a better plan for me. I could truly say that I had surrendered to Him. I thought I had surrendered before, but this was different. I was free.

The next day, I told my husband that I was willing to stop trying for a baby if nothing happened after this treatment. And I asked him to be patient with me, because I would need time to grieve the loss of this dream. 5 days after that conversation, I found out I was pregnant. God blessed me in 2 ways. Yes, he gave me Little Guy. But more importantly He gave me Himself. Yes, my circumstances changed, but more importantly God changed me in a profound way.

When I thought about being fruitful, babies used to be what came to mind. But God has shown me that that dream can represent a deeper desire to live fruitful lives, to invest ourselves in something that matters. God does not allow surrendered hearts to continue to long for things He will not ultimately grant in one way or another. Hearts surrendered to God can be trusted. Until we have surrendered our hopes and dreams, we have little way of knowing what would fulfill us. Most of us bank on circumstantial contentment, but we end up bankrupt. If-onlys (like the what-ifs) cling to us and drag us down
if only I was married, if only I had children, if only I had a bigger house, better car, perfect body
Unhappy women are not made happy by these things. An unhappy woman usually needs a change of heart than a change of circumstances.

I had a hard time getting pregnant after Little Guy, and when I did, I had a miscarriage. I was devastated by that loss and the loss of that dream. There are many women who I know that have never had biological children but God has blessed them with many children through Sunday school or children and youth programs. But you know what, all women become barren as we age, but it doesn’t have to mean that we’re done being fruitful! There are still opportunities to bear spiritual offspring. Moms and children in our families, in our church and in our community, who are desperately in need of someone to love them, to encourage them, and to point them to Jesus. Isn’t that what Moms and Grandmas do? We just sponsored another child through World Vision, and I cried. It sounds ridiculous, but in a way, the kids we sponsor are my kids. I pray for them, I encourage them and I point them to Jesus, and in turn, they are fulfilling a need in me. And now I’m asking God to show me others who I can be a “ Spiritual Mom” to – I can still have a fruitful life! God thinks outside the box!

Hannah surrendered her heart to God. Her circumstances may not have changed, but she did. God remembered her faithfulness and blessed her. God calls us to be faithful regardless of our circumstances, to be surrendered to whatever He chooses for us and where ever He calls us. When we are, He will change us. He will bless us with His presence. He will bless us in ways we cannot imagine. God created every life to be fruitful and to grow in grace!

References: “12 Extraordinary Women” by John MacArthur and “Breaking Free” by Beth Moore

Epic Failure

08 Thursday Mar 2012

Posted by jennsmidlifecrisis in Fashion, Foolishness

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

chocolate, failure, gray hair, humour


Worst hair dye job EVER! Epic Fail!! Heading to the nearest convenience store for a cheap cap and all the chocolate they have!!!!

Even though I did submit my application for a make-over on a national TV show, I finally gave in and coloured my hair – I chose brown, which used to be my natural colour. I know it says to colour every 4-6 weeks but in my case it’s usually every 3 months. It’s not a money issue, or usually a time issue – it’s a lazy and/or indecisive issue. The gray is sprouting but truthfully, I’m probably the only who notices (especially under the harsh glare of fluorescent lights)! Keeping in step with trying new things, I decided to try the foam dye that TV ads rave about.

I picked my day, and conducted the 48 hour skin test. Thankfully it’s winter and I’m wearing long sleeves, because I now look like I have a giant bruise on the inside of my elbow. Being creative, I mixed the dyes for the skin test on the surface of a hand mirror on my dresser (which now needs repainting). The sticky goo was very light in colour, so I didn’t give it much thought. I rinsed off the mirror in the bathroom sink; all appeared to be cleaned away. It was Hubby who noticed the stains in the sink at bedtime. It’s almost scrubbed away. Note to self: Do not rinse in bathroom sink.

I washed my hair the night before, and donned my very stained T-shirt – good for dye jobs, painting jobs, and serious “get dirty” gardening jobs. Little Guy was home with a sick tummy so I set him up with some activities. Gloves on, mix liquids, shake 3 times, add lid and squeeze. The applicator is not a pump – you have to squeeze the foam into your hand and apply it like mousse. Time for 25 minutes. The timing part has always confused me. Do I time from when I start to apply the dye, or from the time I finish applying the dye? If it’s at the end, then where I started ends up being on longer than 25 minutes
Of course, it’s also hard to time when you don’t have a clock. Note to self: Get a clock.

I took a damp cloth and removed most of the extra colour that had been sponged onto my ears and neck. I also scrubbed the top layer of skin off my arms where I had brushed against my head. By now, all those spots were a violent purple, and even the gloves were stained a violent purple. It gave me a very uneasy feeling.

Little Guy was getting hungry, so I came down to start some grilled cheese sandwiches. I’ve learned to work with liquid dye, so I can certainly work with foamy dye. Little Guy immediately noted “something smells funny”. He then proceeded to walk around holding his nose, and complaining, “you stink”! Ah, the price of beauty! Eventually the funk got to be too much for him, so he hid in his bedroom. Peace & quiet!

Sandwiches done, I took mine to the bathroom, rinsed out the colour and put in the conditioner. It really didn’t smell any better. I ate my gooey sandwich with my head hanging over the tub so my hair could drip. I’m a mother – I’ve learned to eat any where! Note to self: get towel before starting the job.

Now rinsed, it was time for the great reveal! While the colour is OK (darker than expected but will lighten when washed), I’m embarrassed to admit that my scalp is now a weird patchwork of violent purple shapes. I scrubbed what I could see with a damp cloth, but it didn’t help much, and now my head is sore because I scrubbed off at least one layer of skin too.

I have dyed my hair several times (for vanity reasons – a.k.a. hate my boring brown) and I have never had such an outcome! It could be worse, I suppose – but at least green would fit in with St. Patrick’s Day! I look stupid in hats. No, really, I look stupid in hats! But I think when I head to the school this morning (Little Guy was vastly improved yesterday about an hour after school started), I’ll be donning a cheap baseball cap! Go team!

Career Day

06 Tuesday Mar 2012

Posted by jennsmidlifecrisis in Faith, Family

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

failure, faith, family, homemaker


Hubby is speaking at Career Day today, at Little Guy’s school. I thought about volunteering but I wonder if they’d accept “homemaker” as a career choice. Probably not! I’ve held different jobs – I’ve worked in a museum and a lingerie store. I have worked in a shelter for battered women, in a high school with high risk kids, on a sexual assault crisis hotline. I have been a receptionist and a legal assistant. I have met with clients, taken notes during trials, and organized forensic reports. I have seen and heard things would shock and horrify some people. During that time, I grew up and I shaped my skills in different ways. Since “retirement” (when Little Guy was born), I have continued to grow up and shape my skills. But I am more concerned with building a life than in building a kingdom.

What I struggle with most are the adults I meet who ask (1) what do you do? And once you answer that you’re “home with kids”, they ask (2) when are you going back to work? Yes, valid questions, but I take exception to the underlying tone that somehow I am an underachiever, a “taker”, a lazy person, or without value. I don’t have an issue with Moms who work, whether it is by choice or necessity. I had to work when Big Guy was little. But now I have a choice, and I see shaping a person as a far more difficult job than shaping a legal document. It’s more rewarding too! I don’t have a fancy house, a luxury car, or the latest fashions; I do have a home, a car that gets me from Point A to Point B, and one pair of sassy green boots that make me feel like a supermodel!

I realize my name (probably) won’t appear in world history books, but I know it will appear in my family history book. I can trace my family tree back to the 1700s – it’s mostly names and dates; occasionally there a few notes jotted down as well. Even though they are only names to me, they were once a living, breathing person to the next name on the list. While they are only a name to me, they represent a part of my heritage. Many of my ancestors served the Lord, and their faithfulness and their prayers have helped me to know and serve my Lord.

Some day I will be a name on a list
but right now I am a living, breathing person to the next names on that list. I still have a chance to affect the generation after me. I want to be known for far more than how many pairs of shoes I owned! I want there to be laughter, tender moments, and great joy. My desire is for my children to know and believe God (not just believe in Him), to give them wholeness and security, and to leave warm footprints for them to follow. I may not be an inspirational speaker at Career Day, but I endeavour to be an inspiration!

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