When I began this blog some 5 or 6 years ago, it sprang from me “having something on my heart.” At the time I really didn’t know what… well, maybe except from me wanting to tell my story.
If that makes sense.
My first posts were up and around. Dancing around the pit of that time: Stress!
I got a lot of therapeutic writing out which was great. But after that I had a long long time of no posting. Not really sure why though but I suppose I just needed some space to grow. Emotionally. Rest after stressing… Learning to see the signs of stress and acting upon them. That last part – Yeah, VERY important part!
Here I am 5 years later – and +850 followers. WOW!
I need to say thank you – for following me and my journey, for loving and praying me through the best and worst of times. You are amazing out there in the blogosphere!
I’m still writing my book about Joy and Liz. It’s an amazing journey to walk in your mind – writing a book I mean. A story. Lives woven together.
Thanks for sticking with me! I pray the Lord will fill each and every one of you with plenty of Joy!
More than inspirational! Definitely beyond “cute”!
While it has taken me forever to watch the movie “War Room” – it’s been in my DVD drawer for more than a year! – I had a nudge and watched it this weekend.
A movie that inspires to the point of “I want to watch a sequel” is a super fantastic well made movie.
Heck – I wanted to clean out MY closet!!
Unfortunately, there’s no sequel… which sucks…
Fight back, the right way.
No message, pastor or book ever got the point across to me the way “War Room” does.
Prayers are great for communication with the Lord and we are really good at praying for all “the right blessings”. But the Bible says to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. Because they are not our enemies; The unseen devil is. When we pray God fights for us.
I’m telling you: I’m off to War!!
I have battles in this household; Stolen joy, depression and deep dark thoughts, struggles with accepting God and His salvation. Physical pains and dietary needs.
God will fight for me and this household, so I’m going into battle.
My closet? It’s still intact. Because a STILL SMALL VOICE whispered to me, that “THE WAR ROOM IS FOUND IN THE HEART OF A WARRIOR”
So it’s been Christmas. I think that’s a part of a song lyric actually. Never mind.
I love Christmas. My parents instilled in me a love for the traditions and the holiday and as a child: The presents!!
Once I got older, I remember their annoyance as to why I was so keen on keeping all the Christmas traditions every year… They wanted to change things. I disliked change. A lot!
Don’t mess with my Christmas mister!
But life happens… all the time. Can’t really stop it even though it sucks and cuts deeply at times.
My mom died suddenly. Then Christmas had to change.
Then I got married and Christmas really had to change.
Celebrating Christmas in Japan without the goodies I was accustomed to from Denmark. They simply couldn’t be bought… So I made the best of it.
Then I met Jesus and had the most wonderful Christmas of my life: The one where traditions mattered absolutely ZERO.
By then though, my husband had gotten a taste of my traditional Christmas and so did my daughter… all those lovely presents!
Then my dad died. I blogged a lot about the journey toward the end of his life. Goodness – that was hard!
This was my third Christmas without my dad in my life. The first year I handled really well. Keeping up appearances. “It was the best thing for him to let go of life” etc. I did good.
The second year was not that “easy”, but I thought I made it through alright. It felt harder and I thought I’d make up for it by putting more presents underneath the tree. Maybe it would help. Boy, was I wrong!
Oh dear. Total emotional breakdown in the middle of cooking Christmas dinner. I had to run out of the home… So I took out the trash. Well, in more than one way. All through December I had heard my dad’s voice in my head so often it nearly made me deaf. The pain of remembering! I wanted to scream and run away. His voice might have brought comfort, if I wasn’t so keen on running away from it.
In the parking lot area of where we live, I let the tears run… Nobody and everybody could see me. The mail guy came on his little motorcycle with letters and postcard. He looked at me with such compassion but couldn’t do anything.
I had to get myself together… and made Christmas happen.
The one thing I want to get back to, is to celebrate the Christmas where tradition matters ZERO. They’re good to have, granted. But the main thing isn’t that. It’s JESUS!
And New Year is rapidly coming my way. New Year used to be champagne at midnight. That was life pre-marriage, pre-grey hair, pre-I-need-my-sleep-at-night, pre-wrinkles… You get the idea!
In Japan, New Year is January 1st and spending the day with family. We drink a special sake, so thick with sugar it screeches in the ear canals. The Buddhist bow before their ancestors in front of the family alter… I usually need the bathroom during that time or I shrink and blend into the background. Never knew I had “chameleon traits”…
Then we eat. The food is great – “Osechi” they call it. Well, some of it is tasty… Ahem. Some of these traditional Japanese dishes aren’t my favorites! It used to be the big cooking spree for the Japanese housewives, but these days the New Year dishes (can!) come ready made and packed from the supermarkets in Japanese, Chinese or Western styles… yeah.
The best food though is the “Ozoni” soup! Yuzu flavored soup with mochi. Yum!
Then we watch (those who can keep their eyes open) the annual “Ekiden” – relay run from Hakone to Tokyo. The TV is utterly boring but the atmosphere is good.
To the whole Blogosphere: I wish you and your loved ones a Happy New Year 2018. May this be the year of love, joy and laughter – even through the tears. Because tradition matters ZERO ; And Jesus matters all!
I can’t say that I have given this much thought – and maybe I’ll sorely regret it… But I think I want to take a short break from my blog.
I know – that does NOT sound like me…
But as I’m sitting here writing this I’m feeling such peace and joyful calm.
The last 2 blog posts named “Love Stuck” are actually depicting true events. Names have been changed “to protect the innocent” – ha ha… and I truly can’t wait to see what the Lord really does have on His heart for “Joy” and I. If anything at all…
But the posts sparked my imagination and I’m thinking that I’d like to give it a go. It, being actually write the novel.
I have no idea if I can master doing it, but I’d like to try.
Prayers, hints, advice and good ideas are all very welcomed.
And… I’ll probably stay updated on the blog so I won’t be completely vanished, just perhaps “out of order” for a bit.
This is part 2 of “Love Stuck” – a novel-like writing so, please make sure you have read part 1.
The morning after, Liz woke up and gazed at the white shining light streaming through the windows and blinds. It was another cold day outside, but the winter light was unmistakably the purest and clearest of all the seasons. She loved the colors of her bedroom. The rented apartment came with cream colored walls and a build in closet. The room was small but big enough for a double bed, bedside tables and a dresser. After all, what else would be needed in a bedroom. She had gone to great length to make the bedroom feel peaceful and relaxing, so she had purposely picked bedspread, cushions and wall art in dusty and pale colors of lavender and green.
After yesterday’s non-coincidental chat with Joy and her evening in tears, she needed God’s love to shine. As she was taking in the beauty of the light, she remembered the verse in the Bible that said “joy will come in the morning”. She found herself looking for a rainbow there, in the light, in her bedroom. Just like the Lord had made His promise solid of not flooding the earth again by giving His people the rainbow, so Liz was longing for a promise from the Lord. Liz shook her head when realizing how ridiculous it was to be looking for a rainbow in her bedroom.
She got out of bed and went straight for the heaters in the living room and turned them on to warm up the apartment. The floors were strikingly cold and she tiptoed in her slippers and pajama into the kitchen. She kept telling herself that the next place she would live would have heated floors! The house was quiet. Her husband was away on a longer business trip. He would often be gone for months. Travels and production trials at foreign factories was a part of his job description. Her daughter was still sleeping. She was reaching her teenage years and with that, her body just needed more sleep. It was great for Liz because it gave her silent mornings, which was something she vividly cherished.
In the kitchen, which was old but functional, she put on the kettle and watched the steam as the water came to a boil. She reached for her tea mug. A handmade ceramic mug she had bought on a market on a holiday. It was a beautiful grey and dark periwinkle blue mug with a tree on each sides of the handle. Like the tree of life from the garden of Eden. The sweet aroma of her morning tea, a mild blend of Earl Grey, filled her mind with smiles. She snuggled up in her rococo chair by the window with a blanket and her tea in hand. She enjoyed the silence and the little green birds outside the window dancing on the tree branches. A beautiful morning and the room was beginning to warm up.
As she sat there in the silence of the morning, she found her thoughts swiftly circling back to Joy. Only the Lord knew the answer to the puzzling questions that her mouth whispered to Him. Talking to Jesus was much more simple than talking to anyone else. She was always understood! Tears filled her eyes as she listened for His answers, but this morning no answers came. She got up and went to get her Bible, opened at a random page while her heart was pleading for something to hang on to. The Lord surely would relieve her of this hurt inside, from a love desperate to get out, but had to be under wraps.
She was jump reading. First how Zechariah doubted the angel when told he would become a father and then how Mary believed, though couldn’t understand how, when told she were to be the mother of the Son of God. Both had to be patient, both had to trust God with their lives. Liz had to do the same. Be patient and trust God. There was a reason for this love she felt for Joy. One day she would learn why.
She wiped the tears when she heard her daughter was up and with a sigh of relief she whispered, that it was time to begin the day.
This is my first attempt of a “novel-like” blog post, so be gentle…
On that beautiful winters day, a crisp air and a mild wind filled her lungs and enveloped her face. The blue sky was clear as the sun sent its beams straight down to earth. It was cold and she was all muffled up, wearing her brown winter jacket with her Scottish woolen shawl wrapped around her shoulders and neck and her long winter moccasin boots, which she bought when she visited Canada some years back. She was out on her Christmas round, delivering little pieces of joy to friends. A card in a mailbox here, a small bag of goodies there and she was now on her way to the last stop of the round; The Community Center. She had two bags left and two beloved people to see. She looked forward to seeing their contagious smiles. As she entered the center and walked toward the office of her 2 friends, she saw the one person whom the Lord had given her a particular strong love for.
Her name was Joy and they were of somewhat same age. A strong and almost majestic looking woman with a sweet tender smile and warm eyes. Everything about her showed authoritative compassion, not that she could actually explain what that meant. In the same way that she couldn’t explain why she had such a love for this woman. It wasn’t a romantic kind of love. It wasn’t a friendly buddy kind of love or even a bond like the love between family members. It did not feel like a love one would normally feel towards any friend. This was an entirely different kind of love which she had no doubt was from the Lord. But why? She did not understand why she had such a love for Joy or what to do with it. Joy didn’t seem like a person in need. Be it in need of a friend or some sort of support. Not at all. All she knew was that from the first time they met, she had loved her with a special kind of love. One she couldn’t easily show as Joy had never given her any incentive or even remotely hinted at a possible friendship. She wasn’t even able to call her a friend, but rather an acquaintance. Still, there was a free flowing love toward Joy and though she sorely wished to unleash it and allow it to pour over Joy, for some reason she always held back.
As with most of the Christian people she had encountered, Joy too had some sort of invincible wall up. Never a sad look, always a smile. Of course some were genuine and those were easy to spot as she could feel it in her spirit where the Lord presided. Joy’s smile was a genuine one, but she still had a wall. Perhaps one to distinguish friends from Community Center relations. Maybe she was guarding her heart.
She didn’t know, but she knew it was there and it was blocking the way for friendship.
Joy walked in from the park area as their eyes met. She kept eye contact and to her amazement Joy walked towards her, greeted her with a smile and a hug. They chatted a little but unfortunately she had to move on if she were to see her two beloved friends, before they had to run off to meetings. Still, she felt the excitement in her heart that she got those precious minutes with Joy.
On her way back home she was contemplating the meeting with Joy. It was completely coincidental… though obviously it couldn’t be as there are no coincidences when the Lord rules. Thoughts flew through her mind like fireflies. She wanted so badly to show Joy the love, but she didn’t know how to… nor why, as Joy did not look or behave as a person in need. Not at all.
That night she cried and wrote in her evening diary a letter to the Lord, asking Him to give her Joy as her best friend. She begged the Lord to open Joy’s heart to her and asked Him to initiate something to pave the way. The love was stuck inside her and it hurt… It wanted and needed to come out, but she couldn’t see how.
She was still pleading with Jesus when she laid her head to rest and drifted off to sleep.
T’is the season… for Christmas cards, because quite frankly it would be odd to send out Christmas cards any other time of year!
I do so love receiving Christmas cards! But one thing I have noticed in the past 5 to 10 years; The amount of cards I receive are increasingly decreasing. In fact I’ve gone from about 20-25 down to 5 or 6!! Alarm bells ringing!
In the little duckpond from where I roam, also known as Denmark, the whole card thing isn’t the most popular thought known to man. In fact, in Denmark these days the postman only comes around twice pr. week…
I can’t say that I understand that, because I love cards! Perhaps we’re more interested in the food..?!?
So I figured that my American friends would save my Christmas card decorative display, in a matter of speaking… because I see “them” always writing “thank you” cards, “get well soon” cards or a “just to say I’m praying for you” card. So maybe my Christmas card display during the festive season would increase.
My display of the cards I receive are a part of my Christmas decorations and I love, love, love watching those cards all throughout December, reminding me of the warm and loving people in my life and of course – the One True Savior I’m celebrating!
What has increased are email greetings where people write long and more detailed about the whole year. While I love those emails, most of it is something I have learned already via social media or emails throughout the year. But the saddest part for me is that I can’t hang an email – or e-cards – as Christmas decoration.
I know it’s a commercialized tradition which began in the UK around 1840 with the opening of the first post office (it wasn’t called a post office back then though), but by the 1900 had spread to Europe. I suppose I just find it sad that electronics, which hurts our eyes and lures us away from family time, has taken over a very nice tradition of spreading the cheer…One the kids can actively participate in too.
There is something to be said about someone who sits down and handwrites a card and sends it to you. It makes you feel important somehow to that person. A long email greeting sent out to all the friends surely took time to write (and time to read), but it doesn’t make many feel particularly loved. In fact, I’m just a name on a list.
No, not soaking in self-pity and I am trying not to judge and I do so humbly see the ease and time saving aspects of the email greeting – I do!
But it isn’t a personal greeting and I think we need to make more of an effort of making things more personal with each other.
That’s love – and that is what Jesus commands us to do. He may not command us to write Christmas cards, but those are an obvious choice of love language. Remember why He came down…
I think Jesus must have been the bravest person ever lived! – In His human form of course. Considering the punishments given by authorities in His lifetime on earth, He still spoke up and sometimes loud against the wrong. A righteous anger backed up by amazing courage complete in the knowledge of His Father.
He managed to make some pretty high-up-on-the-ladder people very angry. When He faced His human end, His choice was to endure. His love was meant to save people who trusted Him and to give the people who refused Him, a chance to be saved. Saved for the splendor He lives in. His voice is still used today to freely grant forgivenes to those who now realize the wrongs they’ve done. Now t-h-a-t is a true hero in my book.
But Jesus certainly doesn’t “fit” the profile of the heroes we have today on the movie screens; Arrow, Daredevil, Luke Cage, Batman etc. They train hard, seek justice and kill to get the revenge and even though some of them do display some remorse afterwards, it isn’t repentance. But, as audience, I do get carried away by the thrill of the story. How about real life heroes?
Would Jesus have fought for a free Scotland like William Wallace? “Put your sword back in its place,” Jesus said to him, “for all who draw the sword will die by the sword”.
Would He have stood up (or perhaps more accurately “sat down”) for equal rights like Rosa Parks? Jesus said “Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what is yours, do not demand it back”.
While the heroes of real life fought for noble causes, Jesus does not “fit” the profile. Because Jesus had to deal with the root of it all.
Jesus didn’t kill anyone to defeat evil. Because in the spiritual realm, the “good vs. evil battle” is a cruel war for the souls of people. He gave Himself to win any soul willing to believe and be forgiven. Only by faith, only by wanting to believe, will you be able to truly see how evil was defeated by the death and resurrection of Lord Jesus Himself.
Jesus changes the lives of those who wish it to change… But ah; You need to want it! You need to really want it!
A hero in the eyes of the world vs. a hero in the eyes of Jesus, are two different kinds of heroes. One fights according to worldly rules, one stands his ground and follow the Lord. One may have remorse of some sort, one asks for forgivenes. One confronts the bully, one gives the bully more than expected.
Being kind and to conquer all with love takes a remarkable courage. Where does that leave me?.. “Have mercy Lord, for I am a sinner!”
For full disclosure and in case you’re curious, the word “hero” popped up in English around the 14th century from the Ancient Greek ἥρως (“heros”), meaning “hero, warrior, demi-god”. So calling Jesus a “hero” isn’t actually a great idea since He IS fully GOD… But He owns my heart and in that sense, He is my hero.
Last year I wrote this blog post about Halloween. Since I’m up to my neck in “stuff” I’ll reblog it this year, because my viewpoint is the same…
Oh boy, am I ever going to be unpopular after this…!!
Best to apologize in advance if I step on a pinky toe… Sorry!
Each year I have the internal struggle, whether or not to whip up a post about that festive night of the year where people, adults and kids alike, dress up to look horrible (?!!??)… You know, that night when “scary is good and fear is fun”?
God gave us free will and I love that He did. We have choices… My choice is to not celebrate Halloween.
Okay, so you do, but at least the costumes are cute and the pumpkin is smiling – yeah? Take a slice of moldy bread and smear on a nice thick layer of peanut butter and it looks really good – but the bread is still moldy.
Sorry – couldn’t help squeezing that one out…
Yep, I can almost feel someone slapping my face now “How dare I – who do I think I am”… I’m a nobody. Pay no attention to me… after all, it’s still your choice.
Why not join in the fun? So many Christians all over the world enjoys the party of All hallows eve and it’s Catholic too!?! I know many Christians who does celebrate it and often because “why take the fun away from the kids?”
Yeah – that’s where my internal struggle begins.
Honestly, it freaks me out. Just the look of the decorations gives me the creeps… which in turn is actually the main idea, right?
Or maybe I’m wrong… But if it creeps me out, does it come from Jesus?
I have no intentions of digging into the Celtic “Samhain” or the Catholic church’s “all saints day”. If you have the interest, there’s about a million websites out there all speaking for or against Christians celebrating Halloween.
– But for me, simply gazing at the Halloween I see around me:
It’s creepy, crawly, monsters, zombies, ghosts, goblins, witches, sorcerers etc. Pumpkins with frown or smiley face and all that simply tells me:
This is something odd and scary. Then I see kids dressed up in anything between princesses, superhero’s and zombies and they learn that this scary stuff is fun.
It’s not fun. It’s scary. Fear is not fun and fear is not from the Lord!
Dwelling on the Lord… I can’t find any place in the Bible where the Lord says I should celebrate (or pray to) His dead saints nor dress up like something only the evil one would do anything, to make us wear.
What I do have are Bibles where it repeatedly states in various ways:
“Do not have anything to do with sorcerers… evil… darkness…” etc. Want the verses? Try Ephesians 5:8 and 11, Galatians 5:19-20, Deuteronomy 18:9-13 and I’m sure there’s more.
Halloween, as far as I can see, does not celebrate anything that has to do with God. Because only good things comes from God. When we try to make scary costumes fun, we are teaching the kids exactly that. Is that really good? pure? holy? kind?
Halloween is not a celebration given to us by the Lord God and that’s why I’m the “evil mom” who places the huge burden upon my daughter’s shoulders, to say NO when her friends in school want her to celebrate Halloween! – Praise Jesus, for He gives her the strength to speak up and say no.
Gosh, I’m so proud of her!
I know that my opinion about Halloween is strong, but I do respect those who chooses to celebrate it anyway. That’s not really any of my business. However, I will choose to ignore or delete any comments to this post which may indicate a longing to change my mind…
So, if I have stepped on your toes, I’m sorry. But I really really really do not like anything that has anything to do with Halloween or the celebration of it
But I still love you! May Jesus Bless you all and keep you safe from evil all the days of your lives. Amen.
The words poured out of me; “I’m afraid, I have fear, it’s out of my control…” as I tried my best to explain to a friend how I truly felt inside. Out of the blue and without notice, my friend bowed her head and said a short prayer, commanding the Spirit of Fear to leave me immediately under the authority of Jesus Christ. I didn’t expect that.
Shortly after I left her home I quietly mumbled “Lord, I sure hope that worked”, while staying focused on the next task ahead.
My daughter and I were catching a plane to Sydney a few days later. I don’t like flying… okay, I hate flying. It scares me and no amount of “safest way to travel” is gonna make me like it, so that’s that! Travels make me worry about a variety of things from food to flying and I triple check all paperwork etc. But I love encountering different cultures and countries.
While packing a suitcase, I froze as I suddenly realized that something was “wrong”; I wasn’t afraid!
I sat down and looked around me, going “eh… this is weird! Weirdly weird… it’s great, but oh so strange”. It took a while before the 10 yen coin sank in and I realized what had happened; Fear, that nasty source of evil with his claws buried deep in my shoulders, had literally left.
I was breathing in wonder and – honestly, totally stunned amazement.
The Spirit of Fear is real (as the Bible says) and its THE source and sum of ALL fears.
Once freed, I had discernment as if a misty-like veil was lifted.
The spirit of fear distorted everything and through that, had gained control. And I didn’t even know it… How could I not know it?
Hold on to your reins because this might shake your doctrine: As far back as I can remember, quite literally, fear has been a companion of mine. As a child I was always afraid of something. As a young adult I lived it out by “facing fears” and battling the consequences. I honestly thought it was normal to feel and live with fear as I hadn’t known any different. But it’s not supposed to be normal!!
We had a wonderful trip in Australia and my girl and I had several fights, which was where I discovered I have a new discernment and perspective of her mental health – but more on that issue in a future post.
I l-o-v-e my Jesus!! The Bible says that we become a new creation when we get saved. My heart was sealed with His spirit, that’s for sure… but somehow Fear was still a companion of mine. He just wrapped himself in light instead. I have no intentions of discussing doctrine here. I’m stating a fact that has become clear to me, now that Fear is no longer surrounding the truth in a misty veil.
I don’t write down my prayers, rather my prayer journal is an opposite one; I write down the words Jesus speaks to me when we have coffee together in the morning. On August 5th I felt and saw Him, instead of hearing Him; “I sat above the clouds and Jesus kissed my forehead holding my head between His hands. He said “you have My strength in your bones”.”
I can feel in my bones that Jesus is in me and my self-confidence is actual confidence and no longer an outwardly pretend one… Just how cool is that!?!
This post is to testify to anyone out there living with fear: It is not supposed to be like that.