.tripper.

Maintaining balance is not what you would call one of my strengths and while I'm not a complete klutz, I am prone to the occasional topple.

One such instance occurred about 3 weeks ago. I had just been to church and had to rush off to a family picnic, on the way, I stopped at local shopping centre to drop off some items to be dry cleaned and buy some batteries. By chance, I happened to run into my flatmate in Coles on my way to get some AA's. The line to the check out was unnecessarily long and in an effort to save some time, I embarked on a mission to find my flatmate and ask him to purchase on my behalf. This mission involved a dash through the fruit and vegetable section...who would have thought that a rouge grape would come across my path, rendering me flat on my butt in front of a stack of bananas (of the human and fruit variety). Needless to say, I was blushing like a tomato. I found my flatmate, gave him the batteries and fled!

To console myself, I grabbed a take away coffee and a slice of carrot cake. I toddled off to my car, opened the door, flung my handbag onto the passenger seat and felt something slip from my hand. My precious carrot cake had tumbled to an untimely death....much like myself a few moments earlier. Amazingly, the cake had remained in tact (as I had....well, physically...not so much emotionally). I stood there for a good ten seconds trying to decide if I should pick up the cake or not....


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I'm ashamed to admit it, but I snatched it up, plonked myself behind the wheel, drank my coffee and savoured every morsel of the gravel infested carrot cake.

In addition to my physical trips, I have noticed that I have been tripping in other ways recently. There have been no special brownies, or mystical mushroom pizzas, instead, my trips have been of a moral nature. Honestly, I haven’t been living out what I profess to believe and I’ve tripped in a multitude of ways.

I was reading Luke (7:40-50) the other day and was reminded of Gods amazing grace when I came across the following passages about Jesus being anointed by the sinful woman.

Jesus answered him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.”

“Tell me, teacher,” he said.

“Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. 42 Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?”

Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.”

“You have judged correctly,” Jesus said.

Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.”

Then Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”

The other guests began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?”

Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

I love how God forgives. That forgiveness is not impingent on what I do, but rather what he has done. I trip every day and I am so grateful that he catches me.

.reconcile.

Numbers are not my forte.

Give me a list of words and I’ll arrange it into a quirky line of prose. Hand me some fabric and I stitch up a dress. Supply me with ingredients and I’ll make a delicious meal. But place some numbers in front of me and I will be dumbfounded.

Oh, I have basic mathematics skills. Miraculously, I was awarded with the ‘vege’ maths award in Grade 11, but beyond addition, subtraction, multiplication and division, my arithmetic skills are lacking. I couldn’t complete a sodoku to save my life. At university, I only just scraped by in the ‘Introduction to Accounting’ unit. The combination of maths, profit and loss statements, balance sheets, depreciation, equity, blah blah blah and trying to make it all reconcile caused my head to spin.

The last two weeks, my head has been spinning more than ever. I’ve been confronted with a situation that has totally knocked me around. It has caused me to question myself, my values and who I thought I was. If you looked at my beliefs, my morals and checked them against my recent attitudes and actions, it definitely would not balance.

When you have been hurt by somebody, the automatic reaction is to hurt them back. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth (tangent: this adage makes the whole world blind and in need of a good dental plan). But Jesus had an interesting take on this saying in Matthew 5.

38 “You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’39 But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. 40 And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well. 41 If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. 42 Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.

I ready Jesus’ words and am challenged. Instead of instigating revenge or spitting venomous words back at others, he instructs us to love and to pray for those persecute us.

43 “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbour and hate your enemy.’ 44 But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45 that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. 46 If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? 47 And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? 48 Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

I know that for the last few weeks that instead of loving, I have hated. I haven’t prayed for the person who has hurt me and asked God to help me love them, instead I’ve prayed that I would be vindicated.

For this, I am sorry.

Tomorrow, instead of responding in anger and hurt, I will try to respond in love. I will pray, because I realise I need Jesus to help me reconcile the gap between my beliefs and my actions. (And because my mathematical history proves that I'm no good at reconciliation!)

.mutant.

For somebody who's not dating or in a relationship I seem to have a few men in my life at the moment. No, I have not signed up for eharmony, rsvp or the like. Although the '23 & still single' advertisements which reside on the right hand of my screen whenever I log into facebook cause me to consider that I must be a mutant, I've somehow withheld from completing a riveting online profile about my love for moonlight, pina coldas and hiking. At the ripe old age of 23 I am resigned to a life of spinsterhood, but back to these men.

The first man who recently came into my life was Gym. I resisted at first, only casually seeing him twice a week if I could muster up the energy. Then I had a bad douse of the dreaded Melbourne winter lurgy & all communication with Gym ceased. However, a few months later, with all his charm, Gym lured me back into his tight clutches. Now I see him two times on a bad week & four on a good one. We usually spend about 40 minutes together when I see him. I tend to do most of the giving & he does most of the taking. He doesn't talk much. And thats okay with me, because if the gym equipment started consoling me during a workout I'd have to question my sanity, or at the very least my kilojule intake for that day.

The other man, Myki, I hold hands with at least twice a day. This is a very fresh relationship as it was only last week we first became aquainted. Oh yes, I'd heard of him. He has regularly been in the media & there are advertisement of him plastered all over Melbourne, but once again I resisted. Why get involved with a man who seemed to be such bad news? It was inevitable, I had to get involved with Myki - otherwise I'd never get anywhere. Despite the fact that we've only just met, the first thing he did was steal my money! I rang a friend of his to find out what the gripe was & it turns out that Myki had a glitch in his system that week. His mate assured me that he'd have the money back to me by the end of the week. Alas! I feel the trust is broken but I don't really have a choice, Myki is here to stay & I'll never lay my eyes on a metcard again.

Even though these two men treat me badly (I feel as if I've been beaten up each time I visit Gym & Myki makes me poorer by the day), I make time for them. Primarily I guess it is because they are two essential elements to my daily lifestyle - exercise and transport.

But there is one man, the most vital man whom I do not make sufficient time for. This man has never treated me badly, he has only ever loved & adored me...he woos me with beautiful sunsets & blossoming flowers. He cares for my every need & tells me I am beautiful. He saved me, reedeemed me & has made me the women I am today. His name is Jesus. He's the guy for me & always will be. Even though I neglect him for things like working out & resolving my public transport woes, I know that his love remains faithful & true.

.nail biter.

My name is Zara and I am a nail biter. I’ve been a nail biter for as long as I can remember. For years my Nanna has tried to help me refrain from biting my nails. Various tips and tricks. Sitting on my hands. Wearing Gloves. Chewing on Gum. Knitting. Anything to keep my hands away from the giant abyss that is my mouth.

One of the more effective tricks was ‘stop and grow’. Nail polish, which also doubles as a ‘biting deterrent’ - the polish is flavoured. To sum up the taste, it has a wretched bitter tang. The combination of a cheap and nasty coffee, sour milk, olives, lemons, vinegar and an old shoe chucked in for good measure. For about month in grade 9 I used ‘stop and grow’ to assist in combating my serial nail biting. That was until my friend stole the bottle and applied it to the end of the pens of all the ‘pen biters’ in our grade. I stopped bringing my ‘stop and grow’ to school after that incident to avoid looks of scorn in the playground. And thus, the non-nail biting came crashing down to my feet.

I remember once being told that underneath your fingernails reside more germs than in a toilet bowl. I lasted for about a week not biting my nails after hearing that fact, but couldn’t resist the germy goodness and went back to munching on my digits.

In the last six months I have been so busy I’ve stopped biting my nails. Consequently I’ve got these beautiful nails. I can now relate to the phrase ‘Oh No! I broke a nail’ and have actually used it seriously in conversation without a hint of sarcasm or mockery.

Today my nails taught me a lesson. I woke up and somehow, one of my nails had a crack and was on its way to breaking. And, much to my embarrassment, I prayed that my nail would not break. This seemingly insignificant and innocuous few words have completely rocked my world. A prayer for a fingernail, A FINGERNAIL!

If my biggest worry is praying for a slither of keratin, then I seriously need to get my priorities straight. My prayer life should revolve around Jesus, how he wants to transform me and use me so others can know of his love. My prayer life should not be focused on my fingernail, but the nails that were driven into his hands so I can be cleansed, purified, loved and have eternal life.

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed.

Isaiah 53:5

.my ideal life.

Imagine your ideal life, the perfect circumstances, the ultimate scenario. If I could create my ideal life, I imagine the typical day would flow a little like this….

I’d wake up next to my husband, who resembled a movie star, a Rock Hudson, Cary Grant type. He’d be the owner/operator of an architectural company and we’d be residing in our dream home, built on the Amalfi Coast. He’d worship the ground I walk on, throwing rose petals at my feet as I walked into the kitchen for breakfast.

Our maid, Alice (who’s dating the butcher) would have made me my favourite breakfast – bacon, bacon, bacon. Our 2.3 children would be sitting at the table reading Hemingway and Dickens and breakfast conversation would be carried out in French, as we’d all be well versed in several languages. The children would scamper off to school in their gold-trimmed uniforms, hand-in-hand singing sweetly…they never fight you see, not one harsh word has ever passed between them.

I would get ready to go to work, slip into my favourite Chanel suit, not worrying about the 3 kilograms of bacon I consumed earlier, because no matter what I eat, my waistline remains a petite size 10. Work would only be a short stroll away, as all I’d be doing is taking my laptop to the local café to write, write, write. I’d be working on my newest novel “Contentment – how to have it ALL and more”. All day long I’d sip on lattes and eat pastries, once again unconcerned about my waist due to my super human metabolism.

At lunch my nearest and dearest friends would pop into the café and we’d sit and laugh and converse about our ridiculously good looking husbands who we never argue with, our delightful, impeccably behaved children and how we wouldn’t change anything about the way we look, because we are 100% happy with our appearance. I’d arrive home and cook my family dinner, made from organic whole foods, we never get sick, ever, but my family only has the best.

We’d dine together, relishing in each others company, recounting entertaining stories from our day. The dishes would be magically whisked away and we’d retire to the lounge to view the latest episode of our favourite family sitcom. After such a tiresome day, I’d kiss my dashing husband good night, he’d tell me how much he loves and adores me, I’d lay my head on the pillow and…..

still feel discontent.

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.

Philippians 4:12-13

And now I have it all—and keep getting more! The gifts you sent with Epaphroditus were more than enough, like a sweet-smelling sacrifice roasting on the altar, filling the air with fragrance, pleasing God no end. You can be sure that God will take care of everything you need, his generosity exceeding even yours in the glory that pours from Jesus. Our God and Father abounds in glory that just pours out into eternity.

Philippians 4:18-19