I nominate myself… and my less than desirable attributes.

Second attempt at writing a blog. But I accidentally deleted it when I put my phone in my pocket, as I straddled a moto with 4 people to go and get my one month long armpit hairs ripped out… (Too much information?! Oh well. First less that desirable attribute)… What can I say?! I’m a “missionary”, I’ve been travelling for two months sharing the gospel. Hardly time to take care of such feeble things… Joke. Also, apparently it’s kind of the rage at the moment #indiekids “see here”
Hair I am getting ahead of myself…

The point is-
I wanted to write a blog on things that make me happy. Or to be able to find the life, hope and joy amongst situations where on face value those aspects aren’t visible. I wrote it, then deleted it- second time lucky.
This blog has been so far down the list of things I need to do- emails I need to reply to, jobs I need to apply to, people I need to call etc.
But today. I felt like it was a blog day- so my apologies to the many people I have been neglecting.

So here are a couple of things that have inspired me- made me feel like I’m actually doing something of worth over here. Even if it is only making people’s burdens lighter, it’s something. I don’t need a ‘nomination’ to be thankful, because my heart is so full with thanks anyway. (As my Facebook friends are well aware). Here goes.

Last week I was walking with a woman to pray for her mother in law who was dying (a heartbreaking experience in itself)… On the way we picked flowers, savouring their smell and beauty.
Now every morning, as she pushes her food cart along the road, she picks me wild flowers.
Yesterday whilst in the middle of a pile of children playing, she brought me some beautiful red and pink flowers. The children were overjoyed (myself included), and they proceeded to make me and my friend Kachana into Disney princesses.

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This morning, as I was walking, she called me to her cart and withdrew some beautiful yellow flowers… I really should know the name, being that I share blood with a botanist and gardeners… But I’ll leave re technical terms to them.
I must insert a disclaimer- I love flowers, but an avid gardener I am not (second less that favourable attribute-I’m a plant killer) 🙂 pah. At one point I was an avid gardener… It lasted a few months. I even wrote a blog on it (… But then someone stole my mint plant… WHO STEALS A MINT PLANT?! I admit, I had said to my neighbours they could use the gardens produces… But seriously a WHOLE mint plant. After trying to investigate I gave up, I mean- obviously they needed it more than me. Then there was that time I brought a ponytail flax because they needed ‘minimum care’… Ha. The only time the thing got watered was when I needed to get rid of my day old water remains or my mother came to visit…
But I digress. This morning as my newly found friend gave me todays flowers I burst with joy, when someone asked about it- her reply was “Knomg sroaline pkha nung quot sroaline dai” (we both love flowers).

Secondly, earlier in the year I sat in a older couples beautiful remodelled farm house somewhere in the Deep South (island) and looked at photos of their children… Most people can’t stand the photo moments, I’m a sucker for them, I don’t even have to feign interest- I’m 100 percent in the game. (Potential third unfavourable attribute. E.g there’s a high correlation of people interested in others photos with people desiring to show photos…)
I had only just met the couple that evening, and I was billeted to stay with them, I really truly loved it. We ended the evening talking about sheep farming and my upcoming move to Cambodia.

Almost 6 months later, early one morning I find myself sitting in a women’s home. (Planks and corrugated iron, nailed doggedly together beside a alleyway of mud and rubbish)…
But it’s what were we doing: we were looking at photos of her children.
I wasn’t slow to remember my time on the farm, how similar yet different the situations were.
Two worlds that couldn’t been further apart if they tried, yet both mothers held such a love for their children that they beamed with pride and joy whilst showing photos.

I’m living my dream- it may not sound like much of a dream, it’s hard and stressful, finding myself in situations where I am completely out of my depth… Yet my heart is so full with joy at the small moments, where I CHOOSE the good of the moment to focus on.

We can all be living our dreams, we just need to step out and do it!


Come to the edge.
We might fall.
Come to the edge.
It’s too high!
COME TO THE EDGE!
And they came,
And he pushed,
And they flew.

Christopher Logue (1926)

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