I'll send you all my promises across the sea

Dear Future Husband, whoever and wherever you may be.

I must warn you of some things. I feel that if you are going to spend a large proportion of your life putting up with them, you should be given a lot of time to get used to them, conceptually at least.

1. I have a slightly expensive habbit/love/addiction of tea in all its many flavours and infusions. Start saving now. And tasting too.

2. I have an unhealthy affection for flash games. Not sure what is to be done about this... any ideas?

3. I often make a cup of tea and leave it on the bench, satisfied with only the proccess, to remember it and want to drink it half an hour later. Tea is not the same post-microwave.

4. I am full of pointless pipe dreams and hypothetical scenarios. I should write more and fantasize less.

5. I am nearly unbearably messy, disorganised, forgetful and un-punctual. I have very limited regard for order, both of objects (excluding books, CDs DVDs and the presentation of art) and of the ever ticking minutes. If I am meant to be somewhere, chances are I may have begun getting ready. Unless it is more than fifteen minutes away, in which case I will still be asleep. Please buy a very loud alarm clock and endeavour to become naturally organised. You couldn't possibly be worse than me, and if you are, prepare for one hell of a rollercoaster of missed deadlines, lost details and 'sorry-we're-late's.

6. And this is the big one, pretty much a summary.
I am a hurricane. With a multicoloured, multitextured wake of sheet music, clothing, shoes and scraps of paper both life shattering and menial, I am a hurricane. Physically destructive and disorderly, and emotional explosive. Extreme. If I am happy, I'll bubble over. If I'm angry, give me something to break that is of no consequence and run, or give me something to scream at. If I'm sad, let me cry on you and hold me very tightly. If I'm content, it will be tangible, but mostly I must warn you about the effect stress has on me. I carry a lot of tension in my lower back and in my feet. I will whinge about this, sorry in advance. These will sometimes cramp up. I will whinge about this, sorry in advance. I become hugely snappy, and I swear a lot. Consider earplugs.


Oh, and a small practical sidenote. We should buy all our crockery and glassware cheap from opshops. Like I said, I'm a hurricane.

Sorry in advance, for all of me.

I saw the future out the window of a plane...

So, I've done it again, a little bit.
But its different this time, so different.
Because it is rather small and I have not let myself get carried away.
I have... focussed, on the future. Like I said to hamster, I can't see it, necessarily, but I can feel it.

I can see that there is a season for everything within it. A time for all of my different god given gifts to be used, a time to be wise and a time to be loud, a time to be behind the scenes and a time to be on stage. A time for here and a time for there, wherever there is. A time for just me, and a time for maybe a family...

So that is why I am not freaking out about it.
Because with Jesus, when nothing else matters, everything else that matters is fulfilled.

My future decided

It is well with my soul...

What is this love given to us
That saved my life through selfless sacrifice
Although we fail the cross prevails
Forgiveness stands
You take me back again

You’ve shown me life
You’ve opened my eyes
So I give You my praise
Yeah I give You my all

Salvation’s strong in Christ alone
The Saviour King alone in victory
I step aside give You my life
For You to move do what You want to do

I can’t imagine a life without You
‘Cause it’s all for You God






You hold the future in your hands
You know my dreams and you have a plan
And as you light my way, I'll follow you

My soul secure in all you've done
My minds made up
And you are the only one for me

Jesus, savior, in my life you are everything
My future decided, I will praise your name
And I know that I am, I am yours

You hold the earth in your command
You are the rock on which I stand
And as I live each day, I'll follow you

Unafraid, Unashamed Lord we know who we are
We are your people and we won't be silent
Unified hear us cry at the top of our lungs
You our God and we will not be shaken


Easter camp was incredible
My life is no longer under my own silly control
I am new
I am known

God is.

what if there was no time...

A wish list...

1. A little place of my own, close to where I work, study, worship, close to friends.

2. Or even, a bigger place, shared with said people. Three or four of, a nice community thingo. So that I only have to do one chore all the time. Dear future roomates, SHOT GUN DOING THE LAUNDRY :)

or a combination of the two over the years.

3. The kind of place where I can just say 'yeah sure, come right over, make yourself at home. Sure, stay for dinner! Sure, stay the night! Midnight cookie dough? sure thing!' A place for me to be wicked hospitable, to always have guests coming out, the type of guests who care about my company and having fun, not spotlessness.

4. Somewhere to watch the sunset.

5. Somewhere to watch the sunrise, when I manage to get up for it.

6. Somewhere close to a coffee shop.

7. The kind of job I can go to only during the day, work with people who make me smile and laugh, work hard but not so fast I feel like my hair is gonna fly off and the kinda place I can leave feeling like I did what I was meant to. Work to do well and leave there.

Overall, the kind of life when I could wake up, not know what day it is until I open a diary, realise everything is all laid out and going to go swimmingly, and go through the day not needing to know what time it is, just being full immersed in whatever I'm doing.

The kind of life that is great just the way it is, the kind of life that good things just happen to. Good people don't need to be searched for, they just kind of arrive through different ways.

A life of spontaneity, contentment, creativity and closeness with God.

The kind of life that doesn't leave me looking to the future and wondering about husbands and children and all that stuff that is great when you have it, but terrible when you are too aware of not having it.

I want the future to just kind of roll on in, I don't want to sit here waiting for it.

I don't want to sit here waiting for my man.

I want to live.

this sweet madness...

I want to ask you stupid questions.
I want to ask you what type of cereal you like, whether you like vegemite, whether you drink tea or coffee, whether you want to stay in adelaide or move away, I want to know if you wanna be a dad, and if so how many kids and have you ever wondered what you'd name them?
I wanna know your favourite movie and your least favourite TV show.
I wanna know what advertising jingle makes you want to punch babies, or if you're too chilled to give a damn, or if you don't even watch much TV.
I want to know what kind of old person you wanna be, or if you've even ever thought of it.
I wanna know your favourite season, your favourite time of day, your favourite type of tree.
You favourite flower.

I wanna know what kind of questions you'd ask me.
I wanna know if you've noticed what colour my eyes are, or the state of my favourite shoes.
I wanna know who you'd ask if I like you... If you wanted to know.
I wanna know if you'd ask my dads permission
I wanna know if you'd protect me from blowflies and staircases.
I wanna know what kind of a car you'd dream of having.
I wanna know what kind of car you'd imagine me driving.
I wanna know if the idea of me driving scares you, or makes you laugh, or if you even give a damn.
I wanna know if you can imagine me driving kids (ours?) to football, or netball.
I wanna know if you can imagine drinking tea with me on the morning of my eighty seventh birthday.

I wanna know if you would put the sauce bottle in the pantry or the fridge.
And if you'd change to the pantry just for me...


I wanna know if I'm weird for thinking of all of this stuff..


i am sitting here inside my heart armour, too small for it now, bashing against the walls.
screaming, begging for somebody, anybody to let me out.
I wish it could be you beautiful angels, but like an idiot, I decided to narrow the criteria, just a LOT too much...

and i'ma chase that feeling

the roads i've walked that i shouldn't have.
the place im standing on that i wish i wasn't
the path ahead of me that I'm not ready for.

The person I've been that I wish I haven't.
The person I am that isn't as good as I thought it would be.
The person I need to be, that I don't think I can.

Regret, inferiority, fear.

Mistakes, disappointment, mountains.



I just couldn't be in that room anymore.
I looked right at where we sat, where I sat in your lap.

I remember it was awesome, I had a great time.
Then I remember last year.
I cried I think.

Now this year...

and next?

don't even go there...

Living in your prewar apartment, soon to be your post war apartment

First of all,

Dear people who blog letters to things.
Sorry I stole your idea, I couldn't help myself

tata!

Second,

Dear Future,
I would stand in the rain to wait for you.
Sometimes it feels like I already am.
I would stand in hail for you, for a ridiculously long time.
Sometimes I think I have seen glimpses of you, but they are not my future, they are someone else's, zipping along down the line.

Do destinys have return to sender?
I would stand through a hurricane, I would wait for years.

But I get the feeling I would convince myself that my whole future consists of waiting, and walk away shaking my head.
I am certain this will happen, just as I am certain you will be shipped return to sender when it turns out you simply had to buy a bandaid to save yourself from the blister of your shiny new shoes and I have not had the faith to wait for you.

Bullshit Daydreams

I always feel older than i am, I wonder if it will match up at eighty.

It is very odd to think that at eighty, I may still be seeing and thinking in much the same way. I will still be me, my essence, just older. Strange to think that every second I am living , will one day be my past, will one day be 'the good old days', even now as they are 'the crappy youth days'. Every song I listen to will one day be strange, boring and old. Maybe they already are.

When I am forty, I will buy a best of the naughties mix and, remembering none of it, I will think to myself

'Surely this is not the life I lived...'