halitosis.

As valentines day (or 'single awareness day', as some like to refer to it) is rapidly approaching, I couldn't help but pen a few thoughts about v-day.

Across my years, I have never had a valentine. Recently analysis of the reasons for this led me to one conclusion: garlic. My whole life I have eaten garlic most days - my folks used it a lot in dinner as kids and I use it in my meals when I cook. Everyone can detect a garlic eater.....the aroma hits you like a brick wall constructed out of dead feet. And while my case of halitosis isn't that extreme (I hope), I prefer to deduce that my singleness is a result of this, rather than confront other harsher possibilities.

One may expect me to take a cynical and bitter view of valentines day considering my history (or lack there of) with this holiday. Surprisingly (even to myself), it is one avenue I am not going to go down, although I am prone to walk past the street, dwell, sigh and take another lap around the block. Rather, what I would like to concentrate on is the notion behind this holiday.

. L-O-V-E .

Love surrounds us, it is universal. Whether it be platonic, familial or romantic love, we have all experienced some form of love in our lives (if we realise it or not). A large majority of the music listened to today is dominated by the theme of love, as are the movies that are made. Dating sites are commonplace on the internet, with millions of people all searching for 'the one' or at the very least for 'the one that will do for now'. We are all crying out for love, it seems we can't get enough.

It appears that the world revolves around love, but it is because of love that the world revolves.

This love, the love that makes the world revolve - Gods love, is the love that causes me not to turn down cynical avenue each time I stroll past. Just like the rest of the world, I was crying out for love and he answered. His love gives me a purpose and a passion for life. This love - eternal, unconditional, never ceasing love is more than enough for me. Gods love is there for you too, all you need to do is embrace it.

So this valentines day, while all the lovers are out strolling in the sunshine and the singles are lamenting in their self-imposed dungeons, perhaps ponder on the source of love.

It might also be a good idea to avoid garlic for the next few days, cupid could show up. Halitosis and romance are not a good mix.

I want to hold your hand.

Oh yeah, I´ll tell you something

I think you´ll understand

When I say that something

I wanna hold your hand

I wanna hold your hand

I wanna hold your hand

Oh, please, say to me

You´ll let me be your man

and please, say to me

You´ll let me hold your hand

Now let me hold your hand

I wanna hold your hand

Today I held hands with a guy. It was great. He is funny, intelligent, and handsome, makes me cups of tea, has a gigantic goofy grin on his face whenever he sees me and never wants me to go home. Basically, he adores me.

However, there are a few facts I have omitted from this picture.

1. While I was holding hands with this guy, we were watching Dora the Explorer and Toy Story.

2. He's three years old.

3. We are cousins.

While I was holding this little mans hand, I was deeply moved in a number of ways. I was overcome with an amazing, all encompassing sense of love that I have for this little guy and his sister. It was like I was so full of love, care and passion for them that I felt I could explode all over them. Although no less than half an hour later when it was dinner time and they weren't co-operating, I was tempted to wrench out my hair, fashion it into a rope and strap them to their seats.

My train of thought then continued.....

"Choo Choo"

What am I going to be like as a mother? I adore these kids so much and have an amazing love for them and I'm not even their mother. I'm looking forward to the day I have children and am certainly happy to wait but when that day comes I'm sure I will be more passionate about them than I ever have about anyone before. And I am a very passionate person, if you knew about my love for stationery, I think you would be slightly disturbed.

"Choo Choo"

This led me to think about how much God loves us. Our heavenly father. How passionate he is about his children. How he adores you and wants to hold your hand everyday. To walk through every season of life with you and pour out his love and blessings, in abundance. He choo, choo, chooses YOU!!!!

"Choo Choo"

Finally, being me, I couldn't help but think about the day I will hold hands with a man [Shock Horror!!! 'Isn't this supposed to be a 'G' rated blog' they screamed], not just any man, but the man God has for me, my husband. For that, I am happy to wait and until then, I will continue to watch cartoons, drink imaginary cups of tea and hold hands with that precious little man.

Spontaneous Human Combustion.

A past time which I thoroughly enjoy is that of people watching. Observing humans is a great way to kill time. I've especially found that public transport provides the perfect environment this activity. Confined space, bright lights and shared oxygen all combine to produce textbook conditions for watching others.

Once (or maybe thirty one times) these textbook conditions have led to me nonchalantly strolling behind a particularly intriguing person, following them home, hiding in their bushes, stealing their underwear, finding used tissues in their garbage, removing hair from their hairbrush and collecting their toe nail clippings. Some may refer to that as stalking. I prefer the term 'humanusobservious'. It's all relative.

In the time that I have been practitioner of humanusobservious I have come across a number of things.

Everyone has a story. A history. A childhood. An adolescence. An adulthood. Loves. Losses. Dreams. Defeats. It blows my mind that each and every person we walk past in the street, are served by at the supermarket and sit next to on public transport has a story.

• The population of my suburb is 12050.
• The population of Melbourne is 3,806,092.
• The population of Australia is 21,573,009.
• The population of the World is 6,706,993,152.
• The population reference bureau estimates that the total number of people who have ever lived is approximately 106,000,000,000.

Looking at those numbers makes my head feel like its going to explode. If I think about how each one of those 106 billion people each had/have a life in all its complexity, its highly likely that I may have not-so-spontaneous case of spontaneous human combustion.

What increases the possibility of my potential combustion is the fact that God created every one of those 106 billion people. Let me put it this way, it means that God made:

• Two hundred and twelve billion eyes.
• One trillion and sixty billion individual fingers with unique finger prints for each one.
• One trillion one hundred sixty-six billion major human organ systems.
• Three trillion three hundred ninety-two billion teeth (not including your baby teeth).
• 2.1836 × 10 (to the square root of 13) different bones (I don't know what that equation means, but if it can't be expressed in normal numbers, it must be gargantuan).

If those figures don't give you a migraine, I don't know what will. The amazing thing is, despite the 106 billion different people God has created, you are one of a kind. One in 106 billion even.

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. PSALM 139:13-16

If you haven't heard from me for a few days, it may be a possibility that I have spontaneously combusted.

Romance.

For many spending a Friday night drinking tea, eating chocolate and watching trashy rom-coms with your Grandmother isn't a very romantic idea. It certainly wasn't romantic. But it was a lovely evening, heck, she nearly walked me home - bathrobe, slippers and all. That was until I suggested that it may appear that she escaped from the loony bin. So I took a quick stroll home, pondering the idea of romance.

Romance is a notion certainly not prevalent in my life. My ability to place myself in awkward situations, primarily due to heinous case of foot in mouth disease, usually sends the opposite sex running in the other direction. I too have gone running in the opposite direction from a previous 'love' interest - upon seeing my potential beau after one of the aforementioned foot-in-mouth episodes I quickly spun around and dived into the nearest garden bed.

Much to my embarrassment, like most women, I enjoy the odd (or not so odd.......) romantic comedy. However, a recent analysis of my expectations in any future 'romantic' relationship really gunned me down to reality. I'm not talking some lame super-soaker gun down here, more like a straight at the heart, dead accurate sniper-rifle gun down.

The concepts & ideals presented in these rom-coms are just not based in reality. Duh. Here are three examples which prove this already obvious hypothesis.

1. If you've been a bridesmaid 27 times (with hideous dresses to match), are in love with your boss and haven't had a date in years, chances are James Marsden ain't coming to your rescue. Rather, retreat to your polyester jungle and eat your body weight in chocolate.

2. No bets involving 'losing a guy in ten days' is going to wind up with you getting up close and personal with Matthew McConaughey.

3. If pottery is your deal, I don't think Patrick Swazye's Ghost is going to help you fashion your newest piece of crockery whilst Unchained Melody is playing in the background.

I realise that I sound like an cynic when it comes to romance. Surprisingly, I am far from it. I look forward to the day when I meet a man, fall in love, get hitched, further populate the world and acquire new and interesting ailments as the years progress.

I just don't want to buy into what the world tells me romance is. Watching these unrealistic movies definitely won't result in a realistic relationship. Instead of looking to what the world says about romance and relationships I endeavor to look to what God says about this issue.

A relationship with God at the centre is the most romantic thing I can think of. The creator of love itself, of romance and all things seen and unseen wanting to be involved in every area of my life - blissful!!

I could write so much more on this topic. How God loves you, wants to romance you and capture your heart. Maybe another day.

Ridiculously Good Looking

This evening when I signed into MSN Messenger the Ninemsn news browser popped up and one of the captions read:

"SPRUNG - Celebrities with cellulite"

My initial reaction was 'pffffffffffft - who gives a rats'.

Then I was bombarded by an onslaught of thoughts. Overall I was quite disturbed with how the media doesn't let celebrities have any flaws, almost as if they are meant to be perfect, superhuman beings born with perfect bone structure (as Derek Zoolander would say). The media presents such an unrealistic, doctored and fake image of those in the limelight, using photoshop to the best of their abilities. Unless of course, they desire to make a spectacle of those who don't fit the mould.

I don't mean to rant (well actually, I do). I just get fed up when the media publishes stories about western societies eating disorder issues (pun, not intended, but funnily fitting) and how harmful it is to people in our society, then contradicting themselves by publishing articles about how celebrities got their post baby bodies back. I know that yes, it most likely isn't the same media moguls publishing these contradictory articles, but it still frustrates me to no end.

This also reminds me of the thoughts I have been having recently on age and the aging process. A recent conversation with some friends really challenged my views on growing old and how our world perceives the aging process. There are so many anti-aging campaigns and products around; it’s hard to not be coerced into thinking that aging is bad. Yes, aging is inevitable and there are certain ailments that come with old age that are not so appealing (broken hips, dentures, prunes, mylanta & medication) but what ever happened to aging gracefully???

You only need to observe the 'celebrities' of society to see that people are desperately trying to hold onto their youthful appearance, going under the knife time after time to maintain their looks. Sorry, but cosmetic surgery is not the elixir of life. You're face may not have wrinkles and certain areas may not have yet succumbed to gravity, but just as aging is an inevitability, so is death. You might look pretty, but your life will come to an end, just as everyone else’s does.

My comfort is in knowing that no matter what age I reach, no matter how many wrinkles I amass or how much my hair greys, that I have eternal life and hope in Jesus. He has given me life and life in more abundance.

Ironically, the most beautiful women I know are women who are walking with the Lord, not the celebrities who the world says to look to as the example of beauty. These ladies are stunning, they have gorgeous clear skin, bright eyes, glossy hair and even more importantly beautiful souls. Jesus is certainly the best anti-aging product on the market.

However, you still may have cellulite.

Sorry Ladies.

Boxes

Boxes, cartons, crates, trunks, containers, chests.

Whatever you want to call them, I am good at making them and even better at putting myself, others and God in them.

Recently I have noticed how often I box myself in. Doubt my abilities, my talents, skills and even though I do have pretty rad nunchuck skills, it’s so easy to write myself off when I am presented with the unknown. Although I have taken a big step in the last few months and moved away from the known, the comfortable and the secure, the unknown frightens me. And I don't frighten easily.

Surely I could employ my rad nunchuck skills to pummel every thing that frightens me and causes me to box myself in. I could even ask an even more 'chukky' weapon, that is ask Mr Chuck Norris himself to do the bashing. But no matter how much I try to beat these issues that box me in on my own, it just doesn't seem to work.

The same thing applies with how quick I am to stereotype people. I hate the fact that I do this, because I get so frustrated when I feel I have been stereotyped, but its a trap, a hole, a giant abyss I fall into so easily. Once again, no amount of nunchuck skills or raw, brutal Chuck Norris muscle can change these attitudes, these thoughts that I often succumb to.Funny that the one person that can help me take myself out of my self-imposed boxes and stop boxing in others is the one I box the most. That is, God, the creator of the universe.

Funny that I should limit the one who placed the stars in the sky, whose thoughts towards me are more than every grain of sand and who knows the number of hairs on my head (and in my hairbrush).

Ephesians 3:20 states that God is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us.

I’m pretty sure that the God who created our universe, who loves me (and you!) and cares about every detail of my life (and yours!) will break down the boxes in my life and with his power (not my own) and lead me into a box-less (or at least a box-reduced and box-decreasing) state of being.

Instead of building boxes, I seek to build on the rock. And that rock is Jesus. A rock, that even in all of his glory, Chuck Norris could not defeat. Now, that certainly is a foundation to build upon.

The Wise and Foolish Builders

"Why do you call me, 'Lord, Lord,' and do not do what I say? I will show you what he is like who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice. He is like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck that house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete." Luke 6:46-50 (NIV)

Family

The beginning of my day yesterday played out like some cliché' family movie. I played the part of the estranged relative. I awoke, dressed and perfected the "I really care what I look like and put hours into my appearance, because I haven’t seen all of you for fifteen years, although I may appear to be nonchalant" look.

I took a short stroll down a picturesque street toward my Nonnas house, walked through the gate which sounds like a hippopotamus is being murdered whenever you open it and made my way to sit on the couch. I waited pensively for our ride to appear and suddenly my great uncle arrives in his Holden Commodore Wagon, nice I think, a comfortable way to travel. Nonna and I grab our picnic lunch (loaded with all the woginess you can imagine, salami, ham, mortadella, cheese, olives, crusty ciabatta, tomatoes and more) and gracefully take our seats in the car. On the way, we pick up my uncle as well as my brother, who is undoubtedly is hung over, looking like a vagabond in his hard yakka shorts and two dollar carrara market sunnies.

Fifteen minutes later we arrive at my uncles house. There is a mini-bus waiting out the front. OH MY WORD. We pile into the mini-bus, along with three-second cousins, their husbands/partners, their kids, great uncle and aunty, uncle, nonna, brother and myself. This will be one fun trip. One and a half hours later, one litre of water and no IPOD (I didn't want to be anti-social you see) we arrive at our destination. A luscious green park, complete with rotunda, BBQ's that require a dollar to fire up, playground and bathrooms with stainless steel toilets, not to mention a plethora of relatives.

I am greeted by kisses (one on each cheek, in European tradition of course) and hugs galore. Getting pushed about from introduction to introduction, from relative to relative, most of who I haven’t seen since I was 6 and was the proud owner of a monobrow. This is my Dad's family, more specifically my Nonnas four brothers and sisters (the 5th one lives in New Jersey, complete with a bronx accent) their kids, their grand kinds and great grand kids. And what a GRAND occasion it really was.

Although the day did feel some what surreal and movieistic (made up word my friends), being around family I haven’t seen since I was practically still in huggies and still being welcomed with open arms really confirmed something for me. That is, the importance of family.

Certainly my family isn't perfect and is completely dysfunctional (what family isn't? show me a functional family and I'll show you my pet unicorn), but where would we be without them?? Not alive at least. That's one thing we can each be grateful for - life. But what about those precious memories? For me, it's hearing my mums knee click whenever she gets up in the middle of the night for a glass of water. Or my dad eating half of my bubble'o'bill in one bite, to make sure its not poisoned. Even my brother paying me out, because I know beneath the facade he would die for me.

Family.

Don't forget its significance or underestimate its value.