Trauma and the Dance

One little known fact about me, is my passion for dance. I grew up doing what was termed ‘creative dance’. I loved movement, challenging my body, trying to do new things, albeit slightly difficult due to being born with my hips twisted. Dance was something that enabled me to express myself. Watching shows like ‘Solid Gold’ or ‘Ready to Roll’ and seeing the latest dance moves, was a quiet passion of mine. I loved it when Mum and Dad would go and milk the cows, and I would turn up my favourite music loud, and dance my brain out!

Then I met a friend who equally, loved to dance! Ah the magic of sharing that passion with someone!! She was far more flexible than me, but she had a way of both challenging and helping me to bust out, as much as my body would take. We often would dance all around high school, and when there was dances, it was nothing for us to be the high kicking sisters of soul!

But then dancing in general, changed. It was less about moving and expressing yourself, and it became more seductive and sexual. I didn’t like that much. The images I saw on tv were less and less desirable for me to mimic, and yet still….still I wanted to dance. Going to nightclubs was my favourite thing, not for the alcohol – which helped with me shyness – but more for the ability to just lose all sense of control on the dance floor and leave it there.

And then something happened. I’m not entirely sure what, but somewhere along the way, through different things I experienced, and traumas that I had to deal with, the dancing stopped.

Becoming a Christian, then moving back home for a while, was wonderful. I would dance and sing on the lawn, and all through the paddocks, until the sun went down. I was dancing and singing for my King. No one else. I was so alive, so fully present, so complete. But then that too stopped. I got married, and then became a Mum, then full time ministry happened. Dancing stopped, and seemed to be frowned upon back in the early 90s. Along with it of course, all secular music left the building, and I became one of ‘those’ Christians who only listened to Christian music, read Christian books, watched Christian tv and movies – I became very dull indeed.

So much of the passion and fire that lighted my soul, remained simmering away, and occasionally a Christian artist would put out a funky song, so that at least the old hips could swing for a few minutes! But then, it would all be put away again until…..Riverdance!

My God! And I really mean My God! When I saw that show on VIDEO, I thought I was going to combust!! I knew I had Irish heritage; and boy I just couldn’t get enough. My girls were kindergarten and school age, so any moment I could, I would put on that video and dance my brain out again 🙂 But the magic appeared, when the segment of Flamenco Dancing started up, courtesy of Maria Pages, a beautiful Spanish dancer. I thought I’d died and gone to Heaven. She twisted, turned, stomped, smiled, looked pained and impassioned, all at the same time – and I had finally seen something that resonated so deep within me, it never left. When I was taken to see the show live, my knees wouldn’t stop shaking. Several of us went to the back of the theatre and busted out!

A number of years later, and more trauma to add to the mix, I found myself wanting to seek out proper Flamenco lessons, here in New Zealand. It was nigh on impossible to find, so I allowed a friend to convince me to join her for Belly Dancing lessons. Turns out I wasn’t so good at rolling that belly, but I sure did try. I so appreciate the form and passion for which they dance, but in the end, it just wasn’t me.

More time passed, and I realised through life and experiences, that I had started to distrust my body. I couldn’t dance, even if I wanted too. I longed to move, I longed to feel that fire, passion, creativity and freedom again, but I just couldn’t express it anymore. I live in suburbia, and I just can’t express myself the way I want or need too. I need open air and space, and that eludes me.

I’ve also come to realise that through different traumas that I have walked through, I have completely lost confidence in my body, and indeed feel like trauma is trapped within me. In my imagination, I am stomping my way through a magic dance routine, but my body just can’t seem to do it right now. I’m not sore or in pain, and age shouldn’t be a factor, but in my mind, I just feel so boxed in and caught in a fishbowl existence, I just can’t seem to conjure anything up regarding movement, now.

Interesting that back in 2019 at the Dead Sea, I was dancing down the hallways, dancing down at the Shabbat celebration, and we even got Neil up dancing away, shaking his hips!

I’m praying that as I identify the traumas and the toll they have taken on me, that Abba Father will allow me to dance before Him again.

But on this side of Heaven 😉

Be Blessed,
Sandi xx

From My Perspective…

I remember being so green when it came to being a new author. Even though I had an internationally known Publishing House behind me, there really wasn’t alot of advice or direction given, in order for me to flourish. It was difficult, watching people alongside me, relishing in their new found role as ‘published author’ and yet for me, there seemed to be, a whole lot of…..nothing.

So, after plowing through my contract and seeing what I COULD do, I set about a plan. Or actually, I stumbled through every day, wondering what I could do next?

It seemed to me, that having a Publisher in England, was not actually beneficial to me. There wasn’t phone support, emails were sometimes disregarded, there wasn’t a ‘person’ I could touch base with, but there was something I had, that other’s didn’t necessarily have: an inquisitive nature.

Not only did I set about finding all the search engines available to me, I learnt the ISBN numbers on my e-book and softcover books, by memory. I went about, spending hours and hours, finding all the databases and websites, where my book eventually ended up on. I found it on over 400 websites! And I marvelled at how little old me, could be all over the world!

I then went on and compiled similar lists for friends who had published books around the same time as me. I wanted to see them succeed, but it seems that wasn’t reciprocated. I was used for my knowledge, and left behind in the dust. The truth is, I wasn’t very good at marketing myself, and I actually found myself in quite a depressed state.

My daughter took it upon herself to take the posters that the Publisher had sent over, and got about our village posting them in several shops. Some shops consented to having the small postcards and bookmarks in their shops as well, which was very generous.

I got to blogging about where I was at, and what it was like being a ‘published author.’ It was the weirdest of times indeed!

My contract said I wasn’t allowed to approach any bookstores, distributors, magazines or newspapers, as my inexperience could jeopardize my chances of having my book supplied with them. Meanwhile I watched a fellow author, market herself until the cows came home! Still, she was self-published, and I wasn’t, so there are different needs and strategies there.

I approached our local and national library, and even though my book wasn’t published in New Zealand, because I was a local author, they took my book on anyways – yay for me! I then found the ‘book request’ section on the Auckland Libraries website, and asked them to order the book in – they ordered in three! And it was booked for eight solid months in a row – that was good!

I sent my books to some of my favourite Ministers etc, and that was rather disheartening. After all, who am I and what is this book that I was sending to them for free? My Publisher hadn’t done me any favours, in terms of the blurb, or the artwork. I look back now, and I cringe! Why didn’t anyone step up and say the original cover wasn’t up to parr? Never mind my feelings being hurt, honesty is the best way.

The former Publisher had a section where people could write their reviews, and 99% were fantastic. I knew I had a story that had been God-inspired, but you just never know how things will be perceived. In the end, I don’t write for others, I write what my Abba Father puts on my heart – that’s it.

Going forward, it all fizzled. Nothing was really happening, sales were dismal. And the Publisher was in breach of contract, several times over. So, I found myself a Literary lawyer, who incidentally had been a journalist for over ten years in England, and she knew her stuff. I got my rights back to the book, and formally ended the contract. It ended on a positive note, and so I could move on.

My husband and I had established a indie Publishing House, two weeks before covid hit, and the first lockdown gave us a chance to re-educate ourselves. Watching endless tutorials on the whole publishing world, alongside the fact that I had been studying publishing/editing in Certification, plus all the knowledge I had garnered from my own experience – we were off!

Our experience lead me to publish a small book on my journey with my Dad into the world of Dementia. Funnily enough, without any advertising here in New Zealand, the book is doing well internationally. I never expected that, and am only now ready to market that story nationwide.

We then felt ready to (not really, but full of faith nonetheless) to bring on some other authors. I would say the rest is history, but there are a few more things to share yet!

It’s one thing to write a book, it’s another thing entirely to find an audience for this book. You may have written the most inspired book of all time, but if you don’t have an audience, you’re finished . An author needs to quit writing, and start investigating, start researching and start learning the world they have now found themselves in. Alongside their Publisher, they need to be thinking about alternative marketing, advertising and sales strategies, within the context of their Contract. They need to OWN the work they have created, and educate themselves continually by watching and reading tutorials, articles etc that will give them a greater edge. They need to avail themselves for interviews, both in person and in print, and they need to be open to advice. If they are constantly making excuses for not maintaining their own blogs, websites or social media, then they are doing themselves a large disservice.

Watch this space – SparkleMoon Publishing is aiming for the sky 😉

The One – A Sneak Peak of ‘Claudine’

The goat track seemed incredibly narrow and full of hoof marks.  It didn’t offer the sturdiness of a footpath with any kind of secure railing or steps.  No, this track was hewn from many a goat and ensuing animals that had walked carefully up the path towards the peak of the mountain.

Claudine looked at the peak.  It beckoned her, called to her in the deepest part of her heart.  She pulled her cloak closer, pulled on the hood and took a sip of her water bottle.  Her nerves were frayed, tripping and falling all over this track, but in her mind, she focused on the love of The One.

His eyes were flaming fire, his skin as cut diamonds.  His face radiated a warmth that could flood the whole universe, and yet He gleaned all that love on her.  So broken, so wounded and yet, so whole in His presence.

He looked at her and motioned for Claudine to come closer. 

She fell down in front of him, not able to withstand the glory that radiated from him.

His hand touched her and slowly moved down her arm to her hand.  He gently lifted her, and she smiled at The One.  She glanced at his very eyes, which just a moment before had been like a flaming fire, but this time they were human.  They were moist, and a single teardrop fell from His eye.  She reached over, and ever so tenderly, without fear, wiped the tear from his face.

‘Claudine,’ said The One, His voice breaking, ‘will you sing for me?’

She looked at him, and without thinking, her voice rose to a note she’d never been able to sing on the planet earth.  She took both her hands and tried to cup this giant face within them, and looked straight into his eyes.  Her heart was bursting and love was emanating from such a deep place within her that she wondered if this did come from her, or elsewhere?

He wept.  He wept more and more.  Then silence.

‘Many are called, few are chosen.  Even few still want to come and be with me.  They want my presence, to a degree.  They want to hear my heart, hear my secrets, to a degree.  But I have been here since time eternal, and not many have wanted to come and BE with me.  Many are so terrified of coming through the dark clouds and seeing me for who I am.  And yet, I am always here to welcome my children, every single one of them – if only they would come.’

Claudine looked at The One, and with a heart of deep compassion, she looked intently at him.  ‘You are terrifying to me.  And yet you are my true comfort.  You are lost in the world of religion, fighting, factions, denominations, debate and terror.  So many don’t come because they have believed the lies of the enemy of our souls, and they seem to believe that there is a formula that must be heeded to enter into your presence.

I know very little of you.  I just know I deeply love you and nothing satisfies my heart more than singing your praises and being your daughter.  Papa and daughter.  Claudine and Yahweh.  Is there anything greater?  I don’t think so….’

He looked at her.  He smiled, and fractals of light shone through into other dimensions.  She startled a little at the bouncing of this light show, and then she and The One laughed and laughed.

‘Will you come again?’  The vulnerability and innocence of Him seemed so out of place, and yet she knew, He of ALL creation was deeply emotive and true.

‘It would be both my honour and my pleasure to come and spend more time with you in this way.’  Claudine stroked his cheek again.  How she loved Him so.  Not in the ways of earthly love and pleasure, but in the way that her whole being was surrendered to her Creator.  There was nothing, not even in her brokenness that she wanted more than to lavish her entire soul upon The One who gave her life, and INDEED saved her life.

It was a paradox.  The One who created all of life, gave his only son, and has made a way available to all, he longed for her?  His vulnerability, his depth, his kindness – and yet this is the one who judges the earth and directs the stars?  How could this be?  And yet how could it not be?

Claudine opened her eyes.  She was back on the single rocky goat track, but this time her heart was elated!  She had met with her Redeemer in the most profound way – what in the stratosphere would happen next?

This is a sneak peek of my upcoming sequel to Mirabelle, called Claudine.

SMP COMPETITION!

Hey Everyone!

Just wanted to let you know, we are running a competition on both our Instagram page, and Facebook page, to win all five books from SMP!

No need to do anything too strenuous – just like our page/s and tag someone else.

Free shipping worldwide to those entrants from outside New Zealand.

Ends 10 March 2021.

Winners notified by either DM or Messenger.

Here’s the links for you:

http://www.facebook.com/sparklemoon-publishing

http://www.instagram.com/sparklemoonpublishing

Guest Author – Joy E. Allen

Hey Folks

It’s an absolute honour and pleasure to introduce you to my Spiritual Ma, my dear friend, confidante, butt kicker and fellow Lover of Yeshua, to the blog today! Joy & Dave have such a deep passion for people, for God and for revival. Having spent time living in the Solomon Islands in the early seventies, they witnessed full blown revival amongst the people there, and saw validated miracles. This marked them for life – I should know because they convinced me to go with them back to the Islands in 2000! My life was indelibly changed. Joy & Dave returned with VSA (Volunteer Services Abroad) to live again in 2019, in their beloved Islands, where Joy as a Defense Attorney, was given the privilege of training up young lawyers whilst there. Dave is a mechanic and a deep intercessor with a heart for the Father that burns bright! They have since returned home to the wonderful countryside town of Cambridge, NZ.

Without further ado, I introduce you to Joy E. Allen 🙂

Joy E. Allen

Interpreting the Times

The Prophetic declaration for 2020, amongst other words, was that it would be a year of insight, understanding, clarity of vision, and notwithstanding the naysayers and critics of the prophetic voice, it has been just that. I came to that realisation when reading the book, “Live not by Lies”[1] and reviewing the past year.

2020 for me was an adventure in faith and discovery. An adventure does not always import excitement and awe, in fact my journey was often punctuated with dread and fear, but most of all I learned more about myself, destiny, and inheritance. Given that I was born shortly after the end of World War II, I am socially classified as a “white baby-boomer”; so while rhetorically that gifts me, in this current political and cultural climate, the status of being “cancelled” by default, I do however have a voice, I do have identity, I do have a future, and I do have purpose.

The first enlightenment of 2020 was when we were living and working in a South Pacific island nation and observing what I call the manifestation of victimhood. The leaders of the Solomon Islands sold their souls and the soul of their nation to the “kindness and generosity” of the CCP. They effectively surrendered the Sovereignty of their nation and the future of their children motivated by greed, entitlement, self-interest, and lust for power.

The next and principal enlightenment of 2020 unpacked gradually as we observed with growing interest and disquiet President Trump’s tenure (we had prayed for his 2016 appointment) and the repeated attempts to impeach, discredit and undermine or block his presidency. The hatred palpable, the lies and fake news so blatant and disturbing. We were staggered by the treasonous and vile rhetoric, but knew we were witnessing the battle for the soul of the nation. We were mindful of the tenuous position of our own small country the media perpetrating the deception by regurgitating the lies with impunity and no accountability. We were fascinated by the gradual exposing of the “swamp creatures” their evil agendas, the hijacking of the media and the truth, the extent and depth of corruption, the real political and cultural intent of the “elite” and Globalists, surpassed only by the criminal activity to steal the elections.

In 2015 I had a dream the interpretation of which was about China as a Trojan Horse, the word was that “China will conquer by stealth”. That same year I became aware of China’s expansionist agenda when one of New Zealand’s largest beef and sheep stations (Lochinver Station almost 14,000 ha) was under a conditional agreement for sale and approved by the OIA (Overseas Investment Office). I remember being intensely burdened to pray for that sale to be blocked. Thank you Father God, the Government at the time rejected the bid because the benefit to New Zealand did not meet the Legal definition of “substantial and identifiable”.  China have however continued to buy up our assets, steal our intellectual property and appropriate some of our most valuable resources. The Chinese Communist Party are like Mafia bosses they make an offer you cannot refuse, and when you succumb to, or are beguiled by,[2] their “attractive” offer (usually large sums of money) they then take ownership of you, a strategy we observed in the Solomon Islands.  While in Honiara I was watching a Chinese Television program early November 2019[3]  which reported at first, 2 cases of Pneumonic Plague. I remembered those reports later when news of the Wuhan virus[4] started filtering through, and the CCP tried to keep secret the source and progress of the virus. Another 2020 expose and manifested through the cyber-attacks, interference and hijacking of the American elections, and the further revelations of Chinese ideological influence in the Universities of the US, Australia, NZ, and other countries.

The most recent insight was from my bible reading in Ezra (which I had been studying for more than a year). There are so many parallels and lessons from Ezra and associated prophets of that time (Haggai and Zechariah) in relation to our time. Ezra 1 verse 1 speaks of the Lord stirring up the spirit of King Cyrus so that the word of the Lord through Jeremiah might be fulfilled. The Hebrew word for stirring up (Uwr) is defined as “opening the eyes, literally or figuratively, out of sleep and into a sense of excitement or triumph”. God stirred or awakened the spirit of Cyrus the gentile king. His spiritual eyes were opened to direct the return of the Jews to Jerusalem.

So to those who came to the end of 2020 and claimed the Prophets were wrong and that there was no 20/20 insight, revelations, or understanding, then they are asleep, and their spirits need to be awakened!! Lest they miss the hour of the visitation that is coming. 


Joy and husband David, have recently celebrated their 50th Wedding Anniversary. They have six daughters and ten grandchildren. 
Recently retired from a career in Law as a Criminal Barrister (though not from life), Joy is actively pursuing her next assignment.
As an unashamed lover of God, she is passionate about Justice and Truth, and is now finding her voice through writing.


[1] Live not by Lies, A Manual for Christian Dissidents: Rod Dreher

[2] Genesis 3;13

[3] https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/2019/11/13/deadliest-form-plague-claimed-two-victims-china-information-is-scarce/

[4] https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-53021852

The Scribe & Oracle

Golden quill.

She picks up the golden quill, a mighty theme upon her lips. As she writes the words upon the parchment, she is surprised at the letters forming and flowing so fast. As she utters the sounds of Heaven, all Creation listens: what Decree has the Lord spoken unto His willing Servant and Handmaiden? What mysteries will He expound through her mouth and the quill of her writing instrument?

She stops and waits as she hears the Lover of her Soul, whispering words of passion and grace into her heart. Will she dare write them down, only to be scorned and ridiculed, yet again?

Yes! For her Love has spoken His word into her, and through her this word will become flesh! He has come and dwelt among mere mankind – can you not hear, nor perceive it? Can you not taste and see for indeed, the Lord our God, He is good!

Come to the river and drink of water that you may never thirst again. Come and eat of the bread of life, and behold you will never hunger for mere food again! Come to the waters, replenish your soul. Come to the tree of life and eat – for then your healing shall break forth and your soul shall exalt in the Lord your God!

Come, dance and sing! Lift up your voice! Come magnify the Lord with me! Come, bring your timbres, your harps and your instruments! Come and make a melody, for the Lord is here in our midst!

Come; the Spirit and the Bride, say COME…!!!