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"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you."

Baby Boy is turning one tomorrow! Wowzers. It's been a big, big year. And there's been a couple of exciting developments for me in the last little while... On Sunday I did something I never thought I'd have the courage to do. I got baptized! God has been prompting me for about 3 years. The idea was scary to me. Ever since I made that decision, months ago, I've been sweating profusely at the idea of me being the center of attention for even a moment. Walking up to the front. Holding a microphone and talking to a huge building full of people. Not just talking, but telling them something very personal. I've never been one for public speaking. Never. So, on Sunday we went to church. I sat and waited until it was time for all the people getting baptized to go up to the front. The waiting was torture! My stomach was doing flips. My emotions were riding the most extreme roller coaster. I thought I might actually puke, or cry, or something. Oh, I felt ill. I prayed
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Poem time

The weeks are flying by! We're still having heaps of fun over here. Don't get me wrong - it's not all rainbows and unicorns pooping jellybeans. The kids still have meltdowns and to be honest, so does Mummy, but we're alright. We're still enjoying each other and doing heaps of stuff we never really had time for before, (or made time for). Somehow, lockdown has been some of the best weeks of my life. It's been a lot of joy and togetherness in a way that I've never appreciated before.There were a couple of low points too. One of them just a few days ago and it hit me rather unexpectedly. I said something that I shouldn't have and I prayed about it and felt that I needed to confess it to God and ask for his forgiveness. So, I did. But, I kept thinking about it. I just didn't feel forgiven. Foreign thoughts kept popping into my head, saying Are you sure? Are you really forgiven? How can Jesus forgive you for what you said? How can someone like you b
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Peace

Interesting times huh? I was doing pretty well until the day before NZ went to Level 3. I went to the supermarket and I wasn't quite prepared for it. The empty shelves. The shopping trolleys piled unusually high. People keeping their distance. The occasional face mask. The weird, eerie vibe.  I suddenly thought to myself, "Should I be more worried?" I have to say, it shook me. For a couple of days afterwards, I couldn't relax. My jaw was permanently clenched, my thoughts raced, and I was just on edge. I was watching/listening to every bit of information I could get about the virus and I could feel myself losing grip of my peace. And this is all while I'm on anxiety medication. Yikes.  I realized I needed to get my peace back. I didn't like the path I was heading down. I spent time in God's presence, praying and singing songs of worship. I prayed almost constantly, seeking him and just drawing near to him. Jesus gave me my peace back and lifted the
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Blah.

Five and a half months in and I don't know if I've made that much progress. Some days, I feel like I'm finally back to 'normal' - whatever that is. But often, I feel like anxiety is lurking just below the surface, and I know that if I wasn't on medication, I'd be a mess right now. I know that. It keeps me from falling over the edge, no matter how close I get. My very recent Wellington trip made me realize that. I flew with my five-month-old boy and my five-year-old. That went surprisingly well. What I wasn't prepared for was for my cruisy baby to be really unsettled at night, with 2 of the nights waking every single hour! I felt like a zombie. I'd get up in the morning, feeling like I had been run over by a bus, but after breakfast started feeling okay and more energetic. Then afternoon would come and I felt as if I had hit a brick wall. I just wanted to sleep! As evening approached, I felt that oh-so-familiar sense of dread creeping up on me. It
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One of those days...

A big week of 'firsts' for us this week! My Big Girl started school and Little Girl is supposed to start kindy this week! But today my Big Girl is sick on her second day and Little Girl has been sick too. And I'm also sick. Our house is filled with wailing and coughing. We've been slammed with sickness since Baby Boy was 1 week old. There hasn't been a day since then that we've all been 100%. I feel like bathing in Dettol. But things will be a bit easier this term , I thought, as I tried to calm Baby Boy (while his big sister shrieked in terror as the toddler chased her around the couch with a baseball bat). Yes, things will be easier. They say when you become a parent, you become more patient. Well, I seem to have plenty of patience when there are a lot of witnesses around. I get frustrated by the smallest things. My five-year-old takes forever  to eat food. She just kind of stores the food up in her cheeks like a squirrel. It is excruciating to wat
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Sunday Thoughts

Baby Boy is 8 weeks old! Babies have lots of milestones...but today I met one of my own - I finally made it to church! I had forgotten how good it is for my soul, to reconnect with people after my 2-month hibernation, be surrounded by my church family, and praise God in song. I felt a renewed intimacy with Jesus. I felt energized! Also, today I was asked why I keep having babies when it's so hard for me every time. Like I'm a bit crazy. You might be wondering too. Well, maybe I am crazy. But, I believe every life is precious. When I know a little life exists, there is nothing to do but nurture that life and bear with whatever challenges come as a result. Sometimes those challenges are big. Sometimes they seem like mountains, towering over me, blocking my view, and I don't know if I have what it takes to get to the top. Sometimes, I feel like I  definitely don't have what it takes. It's a sacrifice. Oh yes, a big one. I sacrificed my body to the process
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Goodbye, Newborn...

Baby Boy is 6 weeks old. I've survived another newborn phase! And every single one of us managed to get sick in the course of it. After getting through the newborn stage with my first baby, if you had told me I would go on to do that two more times, I would have laughed hysterically and said, "Yeah, right!" .....and would probably have punched you in the kidneys. It feels like such an achievement, as well as the fact that I'm still exclusively breastfeeding this little guy. I was well onto bottles with both girls by this stage as they were terrible feeders. Every feed was excruciating from start to finish. Every feed. Every day. The anxiety built up every time they needed a feed. I just couldn't do it anymore. Especially not with the mental state I was in. My husband needed a sane wife (ha! He really drew the short straw there). So, it really feels great that it's a success this time! But, again, the elusive joy of the newborn days has escaped me. Ag
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