.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

.the snooze button.

Every morning I have the same battle with the snooze button. I set my alarm for 7am and have the snooze scheduled to alarm at five minute intervals. The wake up tone isn't some soothing melody to gently rouse me out of bed - its a grating, ear bleeding raucous that makes nails scraping down a chalkboard sound like Beethoven's 5th Symphony. Still, this heinous noise isn't enough to get me up in the morning.

I've tried numerous methods, however none seem to be successful. Once, I was house sitting and was lucky enough to be living by myself. The unit had two levels, with the bedroom on the top level. I set my alarm up downstairs so I had to get up and traverse down the staircase to shut off the alarm. Nevertheless after I turned it off, I climbed back up to my bed and returned to sweet, sweet slumber. Currently, my IPOD is set up to kick off at 7am and even my favourite tunes are not enough to snap me out of dreamland.

Love it or hate it, the snooze button is a powerful tool. In the right hands it provides the opportunity for a few more moments of precious sleep, in the wrong hands it can lead to sleeping in and forgetting an important morning ritual, such as putting on underwear or brushing away that odious morning breath. Either way, the snooze button is much more significant than many of us probably realise.

I can't help but wonder if my constant warfare with the snooze button is a reflection of a larger issue in my life. How much am I snoozing through life? What time am I wasting when I could be achieving so much more?

How can I snooze when there is so much injustice in the world? Brokenness, pain, hatred, malice, greed, envy, jealousy. In a world where children are abused, women are devalued and men are ostracised - how can I keep nodding off to sleep?

God doesn't want me to sleep through life, to waste the precious time he has blessed me with on this earth. As a follower of Christ I am called to feed the hungry, give to the needy, to care for the orphans and widows, pray for my enemies and love what is good, pure and holy.

I am called not to snooze through my days on this earth, but to live each moment fully alive, to live in the fullness that comes through an intimate relationship with Christ. This intimacy can only evolve from spending time with God, through prayer, reading the Bible and fellowship with other Christians. Though sacrificing what my flesh desires, no longer hitting the snooze button and taking that extra time each morning to spend with God, rather than clinging onto those seemingly important extra five minutes of sleep. It is only through investing this time into a relationship with God that we can have the strength, determination and vision to help God bring wholeness to a world that cries out in pain.

So I say down with the snooze button. Let our days not be determined by complacency, saying its okay to sleep our days away. Rather, let our days be determined by the one who created time, who each morning makes the sun rise and each night, the sun set.

.crazy cat lady.

Tonight one of my best friends got engaged. He is the third person I know to get engaged in the last three weeks. My other best friend tied the knot just over a year ago. Three of my previous flatmates are now either married or engaged. And about half a dozen of my comrades, my chums, my buddies are now in serious relationships, engagements pending.

It’s not that I am not excited for my friends who are entering into wedded bliss, holy matrimony, wedlock, kinship. Quite the contrary, I am exceptionally pleased for them, over the moon, just bursting with joy and I mean that literally without a hint of sarcasm – I’m serious.

However, despite my happiness for these friends of mine, I cannot help but come to one conclusion about my future. I am destined to become a crazy cat lady. A spinster that shares her one bedroom apartment with one hundred and thirteen cats. Cats of various breeds, including Abyssinians, the California Spangled Cat, the Norwegian Forest Cat, the Selkirk Rex, a Tonkinese and perhaps even a Ukrainian Levkoy to complete my cat clan.

My apartment will be full of scratching posts and porcelain figurines of cats, I will have a kitty litter sandpit. My precious little ones will only ever drink Evian and eat homemade, organic, low GI food. I will regularly play the ‘Crazy Cat Lady’ boardgame with only my most intelligent cats (although all of them have their own endearing, special qualities) and will wear my crazy cat lady necklace only on the grandest of occasions. Heck! I might even join the crazy cat lady society and buy a crazy cat lady action figure.

I’m lucky that my recently acquired flatmates don’t like cats and won’t let me get one. Adopting a cat would certainly be the first step on a downward spiral staircase.

Obviously I don’t really believe that I am destined to become the neighbour hood crazy cat lady. But with the amount of relationships that are transpiring around me it does make me think about dating, courtship, engagement, marriage, etc.

Honestly, the thought of being in a relationship _freaks_me_out_. Twelve months ago it would have been the exact opposite, I would have jumped at the chance to go on a date. But now it’s a different story, the idea of it makes me want to run for the hills. It’s not that I don’t want to get married, have 2.3 children, a house with a white picket fence and a golden retriever. I just don’t want that to happen as soon as I originally thought.

A few years ago I was like “yeah, ill get married by the time I’m 22, pop out a few kids before I’m 30, then work on my career, retire and become a grey nomad travelling the country with my husband”. Now my 22nd birthday is just around the corner and I’m not married and it doesn’t look like it’ll be happening in the near future. And surprisingly, I am 100% okay with that. I’m enjoying being single.

There’s so much you can do when you are single, it certainly has its benefits. Once you are married, you are mah-reeeeeed. It’s for life! You will never be single again. There’s less responsibility when you are single, you can spend your paycheck on whatever you desire, steal all of the blankets and pick your nose without anyone complaining! I am definitely enjoying many of the aspects of single life. Marriage is certainly in the future and while I look forward to it, there are so many other things to look forward to and I don’t want to miss those because I am too focused on getting into a relationship.

So as I approach ‘wedding season’ I will be keeping far far away from any RSPCAs or Pet Stores. I am sure that one day my compulsion to adopt cats will eventually subside when I am ready to get into a relationship and God sets it all up. That’s what I love about my friends who are recently engaged or married - God was (and is) the centre of their relationships and their relationships were God ordained, God appointed. Until this happens for me, I am perfectly content living the single lifestyle, cats or no cats.

.one of those faces.

Apparently I have 'one of those faces'.

Pffffffft.

I don't understand what that is supposed to mean. I’ve had a few people say to me that they have met someone who looks like and reminds them of me. Numerous others have said that I look like someone, but they can’t quite put their finger on who that someone is. To assist myself in coming to a conclusion on the definition of this ‘one of those faces’ statement, I have formulated a few hypothesises.

Hypothesis # 1: I am a You Tube celebrity. One of my flatmates posted a video of me on the sly dancing around my room in my most derelict pj's singing 'Respect' by Aretha Franklin into my hairbrush. I am yet to be informed.

Hypothesis # 2: I am the subject of a reality TV show...not dissimilar to the movie the 'Truman Show' with Jim Carey. I live in a manufactured world, all my friends are actors and are paid to hang out with me (I am sure my parents have seriously done this at some point) and I am completely oblivious to the fact.

Hypothesis # 3: My past is catching up to me and I've recently featured on an episode of Australia's most wanted.

Hypothesis # 4: A scientist decided that I'm just amazingly fabulous, stole a sample of my DNA and has cloned me. Hence, there are a number of Zarettes positioned around the globe.

Yes, I realise that none of these hypothesises could possibly be true, except for hypothesis #1 - its only a matter of time before I get sprung. But for serious, why do I often get people saying that I have ‘one of those faces’??

All my life I’ve tried to stand out and not be a carbon copy of another. Nevertheless, I recognise that this attempt to stand out has been an epic fail on my behalf. My desire to stand out from the crowd has involved me copying others who ‘stood out’. As a result I have become the one thing I have never wanted to be - a replica, an imitation, a pair of Gucci sunglasses retailing for $2.99 at a stall in Bali.

The last few years and namely the last few months have been a period in my existence where I have been genuinely discovering who I am. My likes and dislikes, my strengths and weaknesses, what makes me laugh and cry, where I fit into the world and the part I was born to live out. These discoveries have only become clear to me as I draw closer to the heart of God and he reveals more and more of his heart and my heart to me.

Despite the fact that I am gradually becoming increasingly secure in my identity, understanding the various facets of my personality and valuing my own uniqueness, I had an interesting reaction to these comments that friends of mine have met a person that reminds me of them. I felt as if my identity was being challenged. I wanted to know who this person was! I wanted to see what they looked like, their mannerisms, what they spoke about, etc. I wanted to compare myself to…well….myself. To see if this person who resembles me is actually anything like the reflection I see in the mirror.

I’m quite fond of the following statement:

“Always remember, that you are an individual – just like everybody else”

It makes me laugh. Not one of those laughs that you hold in and once you reach a point where you can’t contain it anymore you explode - making a noise resembling that of an elephant with bronchitis trumpeting. Not even a knee-slapper or snort-inducing laugh. More like one of those ironic laughs where you have that moment of realisation “Yeah…that’s true…ha”.

We are all individuals; there isn’t anybody else on this planet that has been created like you. You are not a counterfeit, duplication or a hologram. Until we embrace this and truly comprehend it, I think it is in actuality quite difficult to recognise and establish our identity and walk into the purposes God has planned for each of us. Our purpose is inextricably linked to our identity; we were created to live out God’s will for our lives. How can Gods will be fulfilled if we are not the people he created us to be?

So I might have ‘one of those faces’, but God knows my face and even more than that – he knows my identity, in him is my identity and through him this ‘face’ is going to bring him glory.

“We have not come into the world to be numbered; we have been created for a purpose; for great things: to love and be loved.” ~ Mother Teresa

Diamonds: a girls best friend?

"A kiss on the hand may be quite continental,

but diamonds are a girl's best friend.

A kiss may be grand but it won't pay the rental

on your humble flat, or help you at the automat.

Men grow cold as girls grow old

and we all lose our charms in the end.

But square-cut or pear-shaped

these rocks don't lose their shape

Diamonds are a girl's best friend"

As Ms Marilyn Monroe sang in the 1953 film, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes - "Diamonds are a girls best friend"....

There may be some element of truth behind this statement. A diamond will never stand you up, talk back, tell you your butt looks big in your new outfit, leave the toilet seat up, forget to scrape the dishes or spend the entire weekend watching the football. It won't forget your anniversary, neglect to notice a recent haircut, make disparaging comments about your mother, steal the blankets or turn on the cold water tap while you are in the shower.

I seem to be reaching the age where my friends are starting to get engaged. It's a very exciting season....I think a lot of this excitement has to do with my 'inner romantic'. And while I'm not expecting to get engaged in the immediate future, I do look forward to it. I would like a diamond engagement ring. I don't want one that would involve my fiancee declaring bankruptcy or that has the ability to sink a small ship, but as a sucker for all things pretty and one who is somewhat traditional, it would be a beautiful gift.

Thinking about diamonds really made me wonder...what is all the hullabaloo about anyway? Yes, they are striking (and oh-so preciousssssss), but really aren't more than a glorified chunk of rock. An item is really only worth what somebody is willing to pay for it. What are you willing to pay for a diamond? Traditionally, the idea is that a bloke is to spend two months salary on an engagement ring. Now, depending on a persons occupation, this figure could range from $0.00 to the millions.

While diamonds are having a positive impact on the economies from which they are sourced (particularly countries such as Africa), they can also be used to fund conflict. You may have heard of the term 'conflict' or 'blood' diamond. The United Nations defines conflict diamonds "as diamonds that originate from areas controlled by forces or factions opposed to legitimate and internationally recognized governments, and are used to fund military action in opposition to those governments, or in contravention of the decisions of the Security Council." So basically, some people are exploiting the diamond industry, using the money generated to fund rebellion/s, with innocent people being injured or killed in the process.

Thankfully, the number of conflict diamonds has been reduced to 1% of all diamond in recent years. However, I am still perplexed that people have had to die for, like I said, 'glorified rocks'. Another thing to add to my list of things that 'Zara finds frustrating-perplexing-infuriating-overwhelming & inhumane about the world'. [check out http://diamondfacts.org/ if you want to read more about conflict diamonds and your part in helping].

I do like the thought that an item is only worth as much as you are willing to pay for it. Everything and everyone has their 'price'. We can all be bought off. Whether it be money, fame or power, sooner or later, most people succumb.What do you value in this world? What are you willing to pay for? Is there anything that is priceless to you?

Your love, O LORD, reaches to the heavens,

your faithfulness to the skies.
Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains,

your justice like the great deep.

O LORD, you preserve both man and beast.
How priceless is your unfailing love!

Both high and low among men find

refuge in the shadow of your wings.

PSALM 36:5-7

Fool

This year I found myself at the brunt of an April Fools Joke. I would like to think that with my quick wit, extreme intelligence and super powers (I'm invisible, but only when others are not around) that I wouldn't fall victim to such a hoax. But alas! this was not the case and I was left feeling foolish. Often I am left feeling like a fool. It seems to be happening increasingly frequently too.

Fool [ fool ]
noun (plural fools)
Definition:
1. unintelligent person: somebody considered to lack good sense or judgment. Only a fool would invest in this scheme.
2. ridiculous person: somebody considered to be or made to appear ridiculous. I feel like such a fool dressed this way.
3. food, creamy fruit dessert: a cold dessert made from puréed fruit mixed with cream or custard.
4. court entertainer: formerly, somebody employed to amuse a monarch or noble, usually by telling jokes, singing comical songs, or performing tricks.
5. enthusiast: somebody who is talented at, interested in, or fond of a particular thing. a dancing fool.
6. offensive term: an offensive term for somebody with below-average intelligence or a psychiatric disorder ( archaic ).

Often I lack good sense or judgement. Some of my fashion choices across the years certainly testify to this. Double denim, tye dye, masseurs, hanson t-shirts, bike pants, coordinating tracksuit sets and the like attest to my shortage of judgement.

I'm also quite sure that I've been seen as ridiculous at some point. Those close to me would confirm my sense of humour has a certain element of ridiculousness to it. I'm also prone to dressing up in embarrassing costumes and pulling silly faces, further compounding my foolishness.

Never been a creamy fruit dessert. Not really a flan.

Can't say that I've been employed to amuse a monarch or a noble, but I'd consider some of my friends to be pretty royal and I have a theory that they only keep me around to amuse them. Sometimes they ask me to dress in tights, wear this funny hat and pointy shoes with bells, so that I jingle whenever I walk around.....is that normal?

I am fool for many things. All things pretty, puns, post it notes, geeks, anything purple, movie quotes, flowers, op-shops, organisation, sleep ins, ginger beer and more....

Being called a fool or foolish doesn't rate at the top of my list...I was especially dumbfounded at the fact that I fell prey to an April Fools Joke on the day I really should have been weary of such things. My reaction to this event made me question why I didn't like being called a 'fool' and I came to a conclusion I often come to: pride.

We humans don't like to be seen as foolish, ridiculous, insignificant. However, when I look back at my life, its obvious that I was and am all of these things. Compared to the worlds standards there is so much about me that is foolishness, but God is taking that foolishness and moulding it into something more. What that 'more' is I am yet to know, but I do know that God is going to take this hanson t-shirt wearing, lame joke telling flan of all things pretty nobody and use her in amazing ways, to display his love, grace and unyielding mercy.

Take a good look, friends, at who you were when you got called into this life. I don't see many of "the brightest and the best" among you, not many influential, not many from high-society families. Isn't it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses, chose these "nobodies" to expose the hollow pretensions of the "somebodies"? That makes it quite clear that none of you can get by with blowing your own horn before God. Everything that we have—right thinking and right living, a clean slate and a fresh start—comes from God by way of Jesus Christ. That's why we have the saying, "If you're going to blow a horn, blow a trumpet for God." 1 Corinthians 1:26-30 (The Message)

A foolish moment.

dictionary definition taken from: http://encarta.msn.com/