The Scandal of Grace.

Mmm.. just came back from a planetshakers conference! It was great (really amazingly, fantastically, wondefully great), but I was pretty much dead tired by the time I got back. So many divine appointments, God's been speaking, moving and we've all had a lot of fun, Him included. haha! Mandia's on her flight now, hope's she's doing ok~ So much to say and no time to say it.. I'll be telling lots about it soon..

Right now, I'm excited to have the new house functional and also to have books interest me that will do me good. One of them is the Raggamuffin Gospel and I'm dying to read everything and yet I don't wanna read it all because that means I'll have finished it! haha.

Things are more than good. They're amazingly fantastic.

I've got no internet till 2nd feb, and it may take a while to set up. Sorry about being MIA.. blog more when the time comes.

p.s. pray for me.. having wisdom teeth out on the 2nd of Feb.

lay it down; senseless sensibility

It's been a rough couple of days, even if I've chosen not to acknowledge it to anyone other than myself. I think this is me, admitting that I can't do it anymore, admitting that I'm down and I need to get back up. Not defeat, but that I'm not strong enough to do this alone. That I'm not alone.

Senseless sensibility sounds strange, but it makes perfect sense to me. I've been indulging in too much of it, and it's driving me crazy. Backtrack to the conversation I had with a friend who insisted that if women were rated by a point system, (not unlike PR applications) cooking would score pretty high points. We sat on his couch and watched Jamie Oliver. Or rather, he watched, and I thought. The Ms Fine/ La Femme Nikita/ Rachel/ Rachelle/ Lydia inside of me said, " what RUBBISH. Women don't do housework or cook anymore! Henpecked House Husbands any day!" The Stud/ MCP/ blah blah man representation said "Of Course they do. Any woman worth her salt can cook! She's independent, and outrageously unafraid of dirt and cockroaches." So here I was, thinking about it, and I decided, with an all too cynical reluctance, that my point system awarder friend was quite right. Thus began the totalitarian regime that I implimented, with largely beneficial and yet not very comforting effects. I'm becoming encumbered with thoughts of responsibility that reduce my childhood to what I now know is a false sense of security that i can never retrieve. Then why bother doing what I'm doing now, right? I guess that even though I'm becoming more disillusioned, whatever I'm learning now is so important and so embarrassingly fundamental that should I not acquire it, I should be a fool. So march on, Sara. Your childhood will stay with you forever but you can't live it forever.

Drat.

The reason why I stand

The answer lies in you

You hung to make me strong

Though my praise was few

When I fall and bring your name down

But I have found in you

A heart that pleads forgiveness

Replacing all these thoughts

Of painful memories

But I know

That your response will always be

(Chorus)

I'll take you back always

And even when your fight is over now

Even when your fight is over now

I'll take you back always

And even when the pain is coming through

Even when the pain is coming through

I'll take you back

You satisfy this cry

Of what I'm looking for

And I take all I can

And lay it down

Before the throne of endless grace, now

That radiates what's true

I'm in the only place

That erases all these faults

That have overtaken me

But I know

That your response will always be

(Repeat Chorus)

I can only speak

With a grateful heart

As I'm pieced by this gift

Of your love

I will always bring an offering

I can never thank you enough

(Chorus Two)

You'll take me back always

And even when my fight is over now

Even when my fight is over now

You'll take me back always

And even when my pain is coming through

Even when my pain is coming through

You'll take me back always

Even when my fight is over now

Even when my fight is over now

You'll take me back always

Even when my pain is coming through

Even when my pain is coming through

You'll take me back

An Empty Coffee Cup

Me and mum are sitting at our computers, both dodgedly typing at this, well, unrespectable hour. She had a cup of coffee, I had none. Oh look, she's just come online. I wonder why.

Perhaps it is some charm of the night, some groggy persuasion of the darkness that causes me to feel the way I do now. This vulnerability, this placing of cards on the table is unheard of in the daytime. But now, I feel a release like a cold wind, as if I could whisper my thoughts to the darkness outside and they would float into non-existance. The tragic beauty of being alone and untracable appeals and beckons, and I could hang my head back and let the night take me away along with my secrets. Just a gust, a quick tug, I tell myself. The wind whistles assent. I'll come home by daylight. I want to visit the sea, with it's wry, intriguing attempts at attention. I can't help myself. The day I stepped into the glistening turquoise liquid was the day I was completely sold. It was Saturday that I watched a sunset, floating in the crystal clear water and could have died a happy woman. Let's marry me a sailor, Jack Sparrow style.

Don't Close Your Eyes.

Suddenly, my heart dares. I dare to miss, dare to break, dare to dance in the sand that feels cold between my toes. It's a delicious feeling that takes off from the soles of my feet, and I spread my arms like a thirsty child. A freedom I've never felt before takes over, and I want to holler. I want to tell the echoes my secrets instead of holding them near me where it aches.

I miss you so much.

You're the only chance I'll take.

Praise the Lord, O My Soul. Dance.

Candicant Sobriety

Someone asked me how old I would be this year. And since I am in the habit of telling the truth about my age, I said 19. It's the same every year; I age by 2 years at a go. I am only truly and officially 18 for about 11 days, then I begin to say that I am 19 and the year turns. Really, I feel like I'm getting old so fast!!!

New year; new skin.

Makes enough sense, ehy? More modifications coming up as well. Easy does it. Should I get a black coffee table, or a white one? Decisions, decisions. Tsk.

[Avvy;-- baby, how're you doing, girl?? I mizz you already. Need to live in your house more.