Grace for the soul

Tag: grief

  • A Forward Momentum

    A Forward Momentum

    Psalm 27:13
    I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living!

    I have had an incredibly busy year! It hasn’t been easy because I am nursing a broken heart, after losing my father. Apart from just missing him, there are many practical implications that have arisen. It’s not been easy.

    I started a coaching and training consultancy, called Progressive Pathways Consulting. Essentially, I run coaching and training work, as well as consult with organisations that are seeking to improve the workplace. I do this on the backing of about 18 years of experience in building capacity across different sectors of industry and for different levels of employee- from the C-suite levels to tea ladies, cleaners, and drivers. It’s interesting work.

    I’m in the middle of writing a book about kindness in the workplace under a publishing contract from Penguin Random House. This is both exciting and positive as events go!

    I have also launched my own podcast called Pathways to Thriving, which aims to listen to diverse voices from all over. I am hoping to grow my subscribers so that I can really get these voices heard.

    All these have been positive things and some of the other wonderful things this year have been a visit to Istanbul in January, which really made me fall in love with the city. Another brilliant event was the launch party for my consultancy. I chose to do it on 8 March- International Women’s Day. It was so precious having so many wonderful folk join me.

    In the middle of the year, I hosted a birthday drop in for myself. I was missing the two great loves in my life – my mum and dad. It felt hard to celebrate my birthday and when a friend told me that she hoped I would do something to honour their memory, I felt it was only right. It was a lovely day!

    In August, I had little celebrations too – for submitting the full book in by the end of July deadline. Three and a half months to write a book, without AI, but totally reliant on God’s grace, is something I absolutely had to give thanks for!

    There were some wobbles after August, in that I was very busy in September up to the first week of December. I learnt a lot about how I need to pace myself work wise, but the joy I had of being in such close proximity to the Kuala Lumpur Twin Towers is something else!

    I did get a wonderful opportunity to take a break in October, which worked as a wonderful reset button. The friend I travelled with, the weather – yes, even the rain, our gorgeous sea view room, plus reading a book I’d bought in Istanbul in January, all contributed to a real sense of rest. So beautiful!

    I find myself in December and to alleviate the stress of not doing a big Christmas, I hosted a little Santa Paws and Birthday Pawty to celebrate little Gamora’s birthday and kickstart Christmas cheer. Family came for lunch and we had a lovely time! My little nephew and niece, alongside Gamora, took noise levels to a new high. Brilliant! The two older nieces who are turning out to be fine young ladies, always warm my heart when the arrive. The family was beautiful!

    The evening saw friends arriving with new gusto. I think little Gamora was a bit tired by then, but it was lovely sitting around, chatting, eating, and playing games that my brilliant friend had put together! My heart is full.

    At the base of it all, my heart is still broken by the absence of my father and mother. God knows how much this hurts. But I thank Him for His goodness and mercies to me- for there have been so many wonderful blessings that have propelled me forward. I’m truly in awe of Him. Perhaps this is the most positive of all events – every time there is a movement in my heart that recognises grace, I am blessed beyond belief. Thank You, Lord Jesus, for the grace you have bestowed upon me!

    The Hagia Sofia
    Launch of Progressive Pathways Consulting 8.3.2025
    Progressive Pathways Consulting podcast
    The Kuala Lumpur Twin Towers at dawn
    A much needed break
    Family at the Santa Paws Birthday Pawty 6.12.2025
    My friends at the Santa Paws Birthday Pawty
    My little nephew and niece with Gamora & me
    My grown up nieces who are turning into fine women!

  • Sheer Grace

    Sheer Grace

    I have COVID, and it has meant isolating for a few days. It has given me some time to reflect. This time last year was very difficult for me. I was being made redundant and the entire process of redundancy felt so very overwhelming.

    One of the things that alerted me about the length of time that has passed, was a renewal notice for my website’s domain. At the time I’d signed up for it, with the help of a dear brother, I wasn’t sure of what I was going to do. I purely wanted to play around with things, see if I could come up with an idea, and he told me about the Black Friday deals. It made sense to take advantage of them. What was the worst that could happen? If nothing materialised, so be it.

    In January this year, I went to Istanbul with some friends. It was a lovely trip, and although it feels so very far away, I remember clearly some of the things that I felt on the trip.

    I felt that I was being challenged in my own mind. It had been some months since I’d started the job hunt, and so many things didn’t feel right. Offers that came my way, packages thrown at me for consideration – none of it felt right. This was odd, given that some of these were the kind of jobs I had long desired, and in locations that I had always wanted to be in. I had no peace with any of this.

    At that point, I wished I was better at praying. I was so grateful for the fact that Jesus interceded for me. This was a big comfort because I was finding it hard to pray with all the distractions, and the tiredness that came about because of stress and worry. Now, a year later, I am again thankful for this same knowledge that I have.

    I am so glad I have set up my own consultancy. I trust that this is where God has led me. I have felt a sense of purpose about my work, and a real sense of satisfaction that I had long forgotten. I wasn’t always happy in my last job. In fact, most of the time, I was frustrated and the sense of uselessness prevailed over me.

    I hadn’t quite understood how disengaged I had become, thanks to countless U-turns and barriers at work. I wasn’t enjoying my work at all, and because I worked for a Christian organisation, the level of guilt that I felt was inexplicable.

    Many a time, I wondered if I was disobeying God through my discontentment and dissatisfaction. I wondered if I was missing the point, and if I had to learn something, which I simply wasn’t yet learning.

    It is funny how I fell into the thinking that God was maybe not happy with me, and therefore things were awry. That couldn’t be further from the truth, for the God I believe in isn’t petty. Yet, I started worrying for a moment about how I wasn’t praying enough, perhaps, or I was just not doing enough.

    This was my frame of mind when I went to Istanbul. I saw and felt so much.

    There is so much history in Istanbul – history that I think is riveting. I think the battle for Hagia Sophia, when the Ottomans conquered Istanbul, was mind blowing. It’s one of my favourite battle stories. I think the young Sultan Mehmet II was amazingly clever in how he took over the Hagia Sophia.

    However, once the opulence of the Ottomans ended, it was such a difficult time of struggle for everyone in Turkey. Things never got back to the glory days, and then they were impacted very badly by the World Wars. It feels like the country has never recovered to its former self.

    Yet, what did I see in Turkey? I saw people clinging to ways of life that they hold dear. There is a pride in the beauty of their lamps, carpets, and other craft. There is appreciation for their nature, including stray animals. It felt like all their dogs and cats were on steroids! There is high esteem for the tea mixes that they put together, the sweets that are made, and the spices that are sold. It was beautiful.

    It made me reflect on my own faith. Life isn’t always kind. There has been so much loss in my life. For me, losing mummy was devastating. I never expected to go through such devastation again when I lost papa. In between, there was some sort of recovery, but never to the point that it was before she passed on.

    Now, I find myself trying to keep going. As I try to grow a business, I feel a deep sense of sorrow for the loss of my home. I feel despair at points, because there is no turning back the clock to happier days, when I sat with my parents, and then for many years – with just my dad, discussing something or other.

    There is a sense of past glory. How it all used to be. There were great conversations. We spent time together. We fought. We laughed. It’s all gone.

    Yet, I have a sense of pride about my home. I want to go on making sure that friends and family are welcome. I never want this to end. I want to always be a good host. I want to do a good job at work – even if I don’t have my mum and dad to talk to about this. I want to have a sense of enjoyment.

    Setting up my own consultancy, has given me this sense of satisfaction at work. I suddenly feel useful again. It was sheer grace from God that helped me author a book in 3.5 months. It was His grace that opened the doors to the esteemed publishers that immediately offered me a publishing contract.

    It is His grace alone that has kept my RA at bay while I have worked on my book, my website, and on trying to get myself out there. I have even launched a podcast. Sheer grace.

    I know it isn’t the strength of my prayers that’s doing this. Sometimes, I’m so sad when I go to sleep that I cry. Gamora licks my tears, and I fall asleep. I forget to pray. Sometimes, I am so overwhelmed by the difficulty of it all. I say a quick 5-second prayer. So heartfelt. Not!

    I know full well that my discipline, my fervor, and consistency in my prayers have been in absolute shambles. I am exhausted. I no longer have my parents covering me in prayer. Yet, I know that in this regard, I don’t just have a vague idea of some glory days, I have a living Saviour. Jesus intercedes for me.

    Fact – I have quite a bit to do to grow my business. Fact – I am dependent on God for grace. Fact – I cannot earn this grace. I keep failing. Fact – I don’t have to earn this grace. It has been given to me so freely.

    I didn’t fully have the words to put to what I witnessed in Istanbul in January, and the realizations it invoked in me. But sometime in April, when our church did the book of Ruth, I understood my reality. God’s kindness to Ruth and Naomi is hard to fathom. In the beginning, even Naomi doubts it. She hasn’t been faithful.

    Yet, God’s blessing comes upon Naomi (through Ruth) even though she had ventured far from His blessing. This faithfulness extends to all believers now. All of us who were ‘far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ’ (Ephesians 2:12 – 13).

     I feel like I have been granted the same grace, if not more. I would be remiss if I fail to recognize God’s loyal kindness in my life. I don’t think that the messiness of life, or its meanness, and sorrows will ever stop His grace. It is because of the lows, that the highs become even more obvious. And for this, I am so grateful.

    Whilst I hope that my prayer life improves, and that I get better at doing some of the things that I should, my ultimate prayer is this: that I always recognize the grace that is in my life and that forms my reality, and that I hold firm to this, despite the heartbreaking loss of home that I feel.

    Papa and mummy, this would’ve been a wonderful conversation to have had with you. I miss you.

     

    March 1999
    A wonderful day out
    A celebration!
    Showing love

     

     

     

  • The Flat

    I’ve just had a very eventful morning. I had to go to the dentist today, for the third part of a painful root canal. This was most unfortunate, because a former filling had cracked, and a cavity had set in somewhat sneakily. Sneaky because I never felt it until it was too late. The filling protected me from pain, which would actually have been a good thing, as it would’ve acted as a warning. As a result of this whole fiasco, the process has been a little fraught. There were some ‘suspicious’ swellings on my gum, which the dentist was worried about and the unholy word — ‘biopsy’ was mentioned. This has been at the back of my mind for some time. I’ve missed my father, because I’d have ordinarily had him to talk to about this. I hadn’t realized how anxious I’d been until I was given the ‘all clear’ today. I felt my body relax. It was magical!

    I then turned my attention to the second problem this morning. As I was driving to the dentist, I heard a flappy sound. I thought something had got caught under my car, so when I parked, I had a look to see what it was. Lo, and behold, my car tyre was flat. There was an immediate sense of missing my dad when I realized the flat. My dad constantly kept an eye on my car and if the tyre had been slightly less inflated, he’d have said. The pang that I felt within me was real. Still, I knew exactly what to do. I called the mechanic in our town, who’s known me since I was about six. He and his sister faithfully served my dad. He said he needed some time to get to me as he was out. No problem.

    I decided to get a Grabcar back home while waiting for the mechanic as he did say he’d be late. Again, I was thankful, as I got a ride almost immediately. The driver was grumpy and in all honesty, I didn’t care much for him. It didn’t matter too much, though. I couldn’t wait to get into the house for that effusive Gamora-welcome I knew was awaiting me. That’s when it hit me. I’d left my house keys in the car. My first response was to start and call out ‘Pa..’ That pang hit me again. Papa’s not there.

    Everything worked out in that, I got another Grabcar back to where my car was parked, picked up my keys and came home. It’s almost comical, when I think of it. Is this the moment when I’m officially ‘over the hill’?

    Gamora’s greeting was brilliant. It was so much needed. The outpouring of love is unmissable. She knows what it’s like to miss.

    Easter Sunday had been surprisingly difficult. In the middle of my church, as the service started, I felt the enormity of not having my mum and dad by me. It took a lot of effort on my part to blink back tears. Not that I think tears are inappropriate. I just didn’t want to have to explain them, nor did I want to hear remonstrations of why that feeling was so inappropriate on Easter Sunday. After all, I believe that Jesus’ resurrection means a resurrection of all believers when He comes again. I should’ve been rejoicing and singing out loud, glorying in every single word of praise of my Redeemer. Instead, I was inwardly sad, blinking back tears, and have been in the dumps since.

    When I’m sad, I find myself watching some of the Jane Austen adaptations over and over again. I love the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice (1995), I love the many adaptations of Persuasion, and I love Sense and Sensibility with Emma Thompson and Kate Winslet. My familiarity with the dialogue of all of these is somewhat comforting. There’s another dialogue that I find comforting as I watch these. Dialogue with my mum about these books and some of the adaptations that we watched together. I remember such intense discussions, giggling, and just a sheer sense of enjoyment, that feels almost tangible, as I revisit these haunts.

    Still, this wave of missing my dad and my mum is washing over me. I cannot adequately express how sadness feels. When the wave comes over me, I feel my senses overcome, and it’s almost as if I’ve been sucker-punched. There’s a sense of difficulty in breathing, and a definite burning in the eyes as tears bitterly push their way out. At the same time, all around me, I see land. There’s a buzz going on. Life on land doesn’t stop. I hear laughter from the land on one corner, some gibber jabber of sorts, all the sounds associated with life moving on. When the wave comes over me, I feel like I lose sight of land.

    The only thing I don’t really lose sight of is God. This feels almost inconsistent, doesn’t it? How can someone who’s feeling this intensity of sadness, see God?

    I’ve been contemplating on the event Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead, as I’m preparing for an elective on grief for church camp that’s just around the corner. The passage is rich with many, many different points to look at, but for the longest time ever, I’ve been fascinated with John 11:35, which simply says ‘Jesus wept.’ It’s hard to fathom why He’d weep. I mean, he’d just said to Martha, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.’ I doubt very much that Jesus needed to be reminded of the gospel point, considering He was, and still is the gospel point!

    I believe that Jesus is fully God and fully man. It’s not easy to explain this — it’s not a 50/50 case of God/man or a two in one sort of effect. I lack the eloquence to explain this, though it makes sense to me, deep in my bones. He had to be human, because He took my sin on the cross. I don’t always hold myself in high-esteem and often have to work on issues of self-doubt, but I’m terribly sure that a lamb, no matter how fat or cute (or whatever the standard is), cannot be an equal substitute for me. I am of far more value than it. There is nothing it can do to be sufficient to pay for anything I’ve done. My understanding of human nature, limited as it is, sufficiently demonstrates to me that we really don’t have the best thoughts all the time. We’re not deeply good or pure. Our motives, our words, and actions, betray us, even when we try our best. We’re fallen creatures. It makes sense to me, that only someone pure, far greater than us, can take our place should they want to protect us from the punishment we truly deserve. To this end, from the depths of my heart, I can see why Jesus’ death for us was the one perfect sacrifice. Legally, it makes sense that He can say when believers die, that He has paid for their souls. He demands justice for us. Why He did it when He really didn’t have to, tells me how superior His love is for us.

    This is the same Jesus who wept, just before He raised Lazarus. He wept not because He didn’t understand the gospel or the impact of what He came to do. He wept because He was deeply saddened by the sorrow that we go through when we lose. He knew that our understanding of His work, even when it’s being preached to us on Easter Sunday or on any other Sunday, or when it’s screaming out at us from the words of Scripture, doesn’t remove the pain of the loss we feel. His weeping just before He raises Lazararus, is, I think, an outpouring of compassion and sadness that He feels for us because of the brokenness of the world. In His perfect human state, He’s able to reach into the emotion of pain and despair that we sometimes feel the need to shield ourselves from. In His perfect human state, his anguish is brutal. In His perfect God state, He shows a compassion so deep and is moved to tears for the plight of humanity as it grapples with the pain of loss. In His perfect God state, He foresees the pain of separation that the Trinity is about to face, when He dies for us upon the cross.

    It is all too much to take in. As I remember these truths, I feel strength within me. I feel revived. My father and mother aren’t with me, but, my LORD is. I don’t have to blink back tears when I’m with Him. I don’t have to smile and say that I’m okay, even when I’m not. I don’t have to gauge how He’s doing before I drop my load on to Him. He’s strong enough to take it. Strangely, as I think about Him, I feel a sense of joy within, knowing that it was my mum and dad, who grew me in Him by His grace. This piece of shared history between us doesn’t end with their passing because He is very much alive. So, I am most grateful for Jesus, and for how He wept. He’s given me space for my tears, which thanks to His sacrifice, are only temporary.

    Papa and mummy, whether it’s the dentist, or conversations with the mechanic about how we all were in the past, or at family gatherings, or whether it’s in the middle of full church on a Sunday, where I am surrounded by lots of familiar and loving faces, I still miss you. I miss you. I’m so grateful that in Christ, I can feel these waves of grief, which connect me to you, without them drowning me.

  • The Partnership

    The last two months of 2024 were filled with stress because I was losing my job. Being made redundant has not been a pleasant experience. It really delivers a sucker punch and sucker punches make you reel. There has been angst about direction. It’s hard to plan when you’re reeling. I’ve lost the sleep rhythm that I worked so hard to gain. Since November, sleep has been fitful at best. Not great.

    Yet, this morning, there’s a song in my heart. There’s been such a huge turnaround in how I’m feeling. Tomorrow, on 8 March 2025, in conjunction with International Women’s Day, I am launching a new consultancy. I’ve had the desire to set up some kind of business for some time now, having done so in the past. Some of the journeys that I took were great, but not easy. Well, I say that I’m ready, now, after ages of waiting. I had such a great experience with a partner when I set up a business from scratch. There was so much I learnt from him about fairness and contentment in negotiations. I learnt about boundaries from him and it meant our partnership was healthy. When we ended the business, it was nothing to do with us not getting along, but rather that it was time to move on. To me, having a partner was such a great journey that I always thought that I needed to have a partner to start something new. Hence the delay. It’s not easy to find someone on the same page as you. Before anyone says anything, okay – so maybe my page has got a few dog ears, rips, and isn’t terribly pristine!

    When I started taking a look at jobs to apply for, there were lots more things I needed to think about this time. I have been working from home since before the pandemic started, partly due to the different time zones, which made it impossible to keep a 9-5 schedule and partly due to changes in my own health situation. I struggle with rheumatoid arthritis and RA is a progressive disease and at that point I was dealing with terrible fatigue. Right now, as I write this, inflammation levels are normal and I’m target for remission if I can keep this going for a bit. The sickening part is that even if I do things right, I don’t control how my body works and how the disease behaves. I am conscious of how this affects my commuting to a new job and with all that’s being done to reverse things to onsite work, which I find most frustrating, taking a job in the city, may mean moving to the city. At this point, I’m not sure it’s what I want to do. I’m not as enamoured as I was about living in the city some years ago. A move feels like additional change. I feel I need a bit of stability given how much change has taken place in such a short time. These are all now factors that I cannot ignore when considering job options.

    The other thing is I’ve not found a rhythm since losing my dad. What does this mean? It means I no longer have someone at home with me to be there for or who is there for me. I don’t know how to manage it. When I had Patches, Loki and for the brief period that he was alive when Gamora arrived, my dad helped me with these furry creatures who wormed their way into our hearts and home. It made a difference. I was free to go out and work and even if my workday ended up being a twelve- or fourteen-hour day, my dad was at home with them. They weren’t locked in on their own. I don’t have that same back up with Gamora now. I have to really thank God for my cousin, whom I call Gamora’s fairy-godmother who turns up for Gamora more than I expect. Tomorrow, when I host the drop-in for my new venture, she’s taking Gamora with her for the day. Her mum, my aunt who says she’s Gamora’s fairy-god-grandma also steps in a lot. A lot of the time on short notice too. The reality is, my cousin is working in a demanding job herself. She has a lot on her plate and my aunt has a lot to do in her life. It’s different from my dad who lived here with me and was just there. I used to come in and say ‘Papa, I’m so sorry and thank you,’ on the days that I was especially late for I knew that my four-legged darlings were safe. This isn’t the only way, but my dad’s not being around has made such a difference to my life. It is another factor for me to consider as I think of next steps work wise. It’s easy to throw out suggestions like a dog day care, but as much as Gamora’s a bouncy little juggernaut, her bounciness and confidence comes from her closeness to me. She’s terrified otherwise and I see it when I take her to get her nails done. She cannot handle all the other dogs and you can see how overwhelming it all is. Her little heart thumps so fast and loud that when I carry her back to the car, I can feel it beating. I don’t have a rhythm without my dad.

    The idea of starting a business, is as I said something I’ve been keen to do. Yet my hunt was for the right partner, and the right idea. Whatever it was had to be sustainable. Whoever it was with had to be workable. I admit I have worried about this a lot. Over a conversation, one of my wise friends said that it sounded almost as if the perfect partner was Jesus. It’s one thing to know Biblical truths, it’s quite another to have some of them repeated to you in a thoughtful way. I did wonder what the hold back was. Maybe I was worried about this partnership. The truth is, in a partnership between Jesus and me, the only one likely to fail is me. Ouch.

    My prayer has been for several things. It’s been to help quell the intense sadness I feel without my dad, which in turn is opening up my mum’s absence. My parents were such ordinary people. Not at all savvy in business or the ways of the world. They didn’t know naughty nuances in language, so they didn’t get a lot of naughty jokes. They weren’t brilliant at investing their funds – it was always safe options. There was a lot of learning to live within our means. They didn’t keep up with anything trendy. It was not their thing. Yet, they were faithful to their God. They taught me all about Him to the best of their abilities. They made mistakes and talked about failings. They apologized when necessary. They were practical about things that were life and death. There was a steadiness about them. There was nothing flash. Just faithful, calm, steady folk. I miss them. I longed so much for the opportunity to just chat to them about how things unfolded in my last job and all the things I need to now consider as I take steps forward. I miss their quiet wisdom. My other prayer has been for direction. I don’t know whether I’m meant to get a job or if I should start a business. I’ve been applying for work and somehow there’s been a push to go about doing things to set up a business. There have been conversations about freelance opportunities and the idea of setting up a website came up. As I applied for jobs and moved about to set up, I found myself more drawn to the later. There were more pieces falling into place and before I knew it, I am here, on the eve of launching my new consultancy.

    I’m excited and nervous all in one. I’m sad because I miss my parents. I’m exhilarated from the work done on the website. How I enjoyed working on it. There was so much support on how to get the technicalities done – it was more than a prayer answered. I feel a deep sense of satisfaction and a drive to keep going every time I sat down to work on it. It’s such a wonderful feeling when you’re content. I’ve enjoyed conversations on work and options that lie ahead. There’ve been introductions and amazing suggestions. These offers and suggestions have spurred me on. I felt a sense of worry slip away. As I worked on my website, some gave me great feedback, little things that you miss because you’re in your head. It was helpful to make tweaks and find myself feeling an even greater sense of joy as the webpage unfolded. Some gave me praise and many assurances. I cannot tell you how supported I’ve been feeling with my launch happening tomorrow. One cousin drove from so far just to drop stuff off for me to use for the launch. I walk a tight balance of managing RA related fatigue, so this help goes a long way. She’s been asking me to keep her posted on what else needs doing. My other cousin, Gamora’s fairy-godmother has offered to take Gamora out and keep her for the day. The stress that takes off me where managing Gamora is concerned is inexplicable. Friends have been checking in and doing all sorts – I am so grateful.

    As I consider how things unfold, I realise that there’s been only one reason why I’ve been so supported. For me, it is crystal clear that God has been making sure I don’t sink. I’ve been feeling embattled, inadequate, and scared. I worry about my relevance, my expertise, and my ability to move forward. In the past, I would’ve focused on all the people who haven’t turned up and I’d have lost even more confidence. This time, I feel almost like the birds of the air and the grass of the field that God looks after (Matthew 6: 25-34) – I am cared for! I’m seeing this through the different people that have come into my life. Today, I took some minutes to send a special message to some of these who have been especially prominent – I am beyond grateful.

    My circumstances haven’t really changed. My home is shattered as is my heart. I don’t have my mum and dad with me. I think there’s no recovery there. I’ve had to say goodbye to working alongside some of the loveliest people I know. Six years getting to know them and developing friendships and those regular interactions are now different. I’m saddened by this upheaval. I need a job – well a source of income, and starting a new business isn’t the easiest thing to do. Has anyone looked at the state of the economy recently? I’ve reason to be worried. Yet, there is a peace deep within. I’m not spiraling despite all that’s happened. I have joy, even. Unexpected joy, but unmistakable. There is contentment. There is excitement. Maybe it is because I’m experiencing God’s love through all the different people He’s sending along. I’m being cared for, cherished, and it’s mind blowing. I am indeed a recipient of grace.

    Whilst I cannot guarantee that the clarity I have in this moment will remain constant (though it be my fervent prayer!), I am thankful for this insight. We’ve not been promised lives without trial. It is through these trials that we experience grace. Grace when it comes at these points is sweet. It overwhelms you. It nurtures and fills you. It is in this moment of grace that I can say ‘Oh taste and see that the LORD s good!’ (Psalm 34:8). My favourite king David wrote that psalm when he was in such turmoil that he had to pretend he was a nutcase. He received grace. I pray that this will always be my posture – to be a ready recipient of grace despite the circumstances that come my way.

    Papa and mummy, I think you’d be proud of this new venture. How I wish I could share it with you! I love and miss you.

    The bloom that greeted me this morning from my Lombok creeper.