Hands

I was just sitting in the back of the car while Neil drove, Dad sat in the front, singing his heart out to Frank Sinatra. I was remembering. Times spent with Dad, in the home and the trips that we frequently take him on.

One such time, we went to Waiwera, and found ourselves in an area that was not too familiar with me. It was along a single road, on the beachfront, but in an area that was quite private. We parked the car, and I helped Dad out. It was a lovely sunny day, so we ventured onto the beach, however, Dad seemed a bit unstable, so I held his hand to steady him.

It was odd. I hadn’t held Dad’s hand like that, since I was sixteen years old. One remembers these things. The moments when subtle little changes become the norm, and holding hands with your father was no longer the ‘done’ thing.

But on this particular day, he needed me. And I was there. I guess the little girl in me, needed him in that moment too. It didn’t last long, but it was just us, just a special moment in our collective history, that will always remain with me.

Walking through the home, alongside Neil, I held Dad’s hand again today. He was a little nervous, as we had to walk a different way than usual, but he gripped my hand as I led him through the maze of hallways.

He can’t think of much to say at the moment, but he does remark time and again, how much he enjoys Neil and I! It’s lovely. His shock of hair standing on end, his teeth seemed to have moved and he’s developed a lisp now. His hands, like my Nana’s, are bony and slender. His appetite seems to have returned, which is a big relief!

My Dad. Bony hands and all. How I love him.

Sandi 🙂

Today.

Book Two in the Journeys of the Heart series.

Today is a beautiful day, in more ways than one!

It is the first day of winter, here in New Zealand, June 1.

I am sitting in my new office, quite mesmerized by a scene I have looked at a thousand times, but has new meaning for me today.

The view from my new office

Today also is the day, that Jo’s second book in her series, Journeys of the Heart, is released. It’s a page turner that had me quite heated up several times, and had me wiping my glasses even as I edited it!!

Today is also the day that my two published books are featured in a nationwide catalogue, that goes to all the Christian retailers around our nation. That has been quite the surprise!

First & second rows, wow!!

But also today, I was asked something that really struck me: how is your heart?

The mere thought that anyone would ask me that, is Heaven on earth to me! I am such a passionate heart girl, that is indeed where I meet with Abba and Yeshua, and yet it’s a question that we as the body of Christ, very rarely ask each other.

So today is beautiful. Not because good things are happening, because actually, behind the scenes, things are mad – but today is a good day, because it is crowned with loving kindness and tender mercies.

And that’s enough to rejoice.

So, how’s YOUR heart?

Sandi

Our Father, Abba

Maori version of The Lord’s Prayer, at The Pater Noster Church, Jerusalem.

Lately, between moments of calm solitude and the crazy spasms of publisher frenzy, I have found myself reflecting on when I met this colourful bunch of Americans, two years ago.

Never had I heard GOD called so many different names! Jah, Yahweh, Lord, HaShem, God, Jesus, Yeshua, Adonai and others I can’t recount. I was so confused, and so in my mounting frustration, on top of Mt Carmel, I entered the beautiful chapel and sat down.

In the presence of The One, I cried in desperation, “who are you, Lord?” Immediately, I heard the response, “I AM.” I was undone, completely. As I sat in that moment, while the rest of the group were above me admiring the view and hearing all about Elijah and the Prophets, I wept.

Flick back to today, and I still hear God being called all manner of things. But the reality is, Jesus/Yeshua told us how to pray and WHO to: our Father, in Heaven. Abba. Papa. Daddy.

It really is simple. And yet, as typically present within the western church, we have made things so difficult! But it’s not. He is our daddy, and we are His children, so therefore we need to esteem Him as such.

I also know and have witnessed, people being very hesitant to call God, “Father” and this is a point of contention and pain, that I deeply understand. As much as I love, honour and respect my own dad, he wasn’t the most kind or loving father, growing up. He was incredibly critical of my appearance, my singing, my poetry and “me” just in general. When I truly encountered the Father’s heart towards me, back in mid nineties and then again in 2011, something changed on the inside of me. I have never questioned His love or thoughts toward me again, and it is my greatest joy, to release that through my life and creativity, into other people’s lives.

Read Ephesians 1 & 2, and read them in different versions. Our Father, utterly and entirely LOVES YOU!

And yes my friends, it’s that simple 💗

Be blessed

Sandi 🦋 🦄🌻

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

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.

3 am.

I remember so well the mornings you would whisper to me and awaken me at 3 am.  I loved being woken by you; the sweet aroma of love that enveloped me as you took me through your Word and uttered your divine mysteries into my heart.  As I look back at the things I wrote, I am aware of your presence, your calling, the hope I had – that now seems so shaky.

The cares of life, the pressures of the daily routine I fall into, the raising of children, the businesses, marriage and all its woes – where did WE go Yeshua?

I remember walking along the country road and hearing you speak so clearly to me.  The dreams you would share with me, the laughter that would easily enrapture my soul.  I think of the time you called me by my special name, a name only we know, and how in love I felt with you. 

The times I would come and minister to your heart, as you had done to my broken one, and yet you seemed so besotted with me too.  It’s a love story that is better than Disney or Hallmark, and yet I’ve settled for those love stories too now.

The worship that would flow from my mouth, emptying my soul into the ether as you showed me a new facet of your being.  How I miss you!

I sit on the carpet and weep now, such deep anguish in my soul – without words, they seem utterly meaningless, just guttural noises and tears falling out of me.

I remember those times I would pray and ask you to hold me as I slept, I needed you and your comfort so desperately.  And now, I have a physical husband and we watch endless TV series.

What once was a thriving love relationship based on your Word, your Presence and your Worship, has been replaced with many many programmes that fill the mind, scare the soul and leave the heart deeply grief-ridden and empty.

Walks that used to be two-way conversations, seem to be replaced with work.  Or should I say, plug up the ears and listen to yet another podcast that will invariably dull down my pour neglected heart?

Being misconstrued as something that I am not, and yet being fully unable to be the real person you have created me to be.

Longing for you, and yet when I don’t get the response needed, just plop down and dismiss it all as emotionalism…..hoping it wasn’t, knowing it wasn’t, but in this current climate that I live in, your Presence isn’t necessarily a necessity….

Yeshua, how I need you.  I realise how desperate my soul has become.  I have all that I ever asked for and yet my soul feels dead.  I find wonder in the dance, the hope, the dream and the memory.  But I need you more than I ever have! 

Looking back into diaries that stretch to twenty-five years, I went through a bad marriage, separation, divorce, rape, being a single mother, various diagnoses, depression, anxiety, poverty, debt, spiritual abuse, fractured relationships, reconciliation, different churches, different doctrines, and so the list keeps growing.  But you were the One who was my main staple in all those times.  These past ten years, there have been sporadic moments of you and your mystery, but they didn’t last long.  It would be easy to blame my husband, children, business and the like.  But the truth is, I haven’t needed much of you for the physical necessities like I used to.

Believe it or not, the truth is, I need you more than ever as we approach the end of days here on earth.  

You are everything.

It just took having everything on earth to know how desolate I am now.

Please can we reconcile?

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…!!!

Watching…

Photo © Sandi Wilson.

I have quietly sat back and watched happening around me, things that don’t shock me anymore. They don’t worry me like they used to. They don’t make me upset now. Why? Because I am USED to it.

When you live in this little village of a few thousand, which is rapidly growing, you get to understand and DISCERN things at a deeper level. You understand that it’s not personality conflicts or clashes; there are principalities and powers at play, here in this little paradise.

A number of years ago, the Lord told me that I would encounter a particular ‘spirit’. He assured me it wasn’t IN me or operating THROUGH me, but that it would manifest all around me. He would use all of this to firstly; teach me, and then secondly; write about it in an allegorical style. I am currently doing that.

What makes me stop and pause, is the Body of Christ, in this area. I’ve never witnessed such lies, division, deception and dishonour. I watch others build their own little Kingdoms, and I watch further yet, the Hand of the Lord intervene. I see different ones around, wearing instead of armour, a breastplate that is wonky, full of holes and slipping off. I see helmets hanging down people’s backs and blasted with what looks like dynamite. Such mental anguish within these ones. I see many walking around with their swords, dull and unused. I see shoes that are worn out and hanging together by a thread. I see belts of lies instead of truth, and paganism and other gods, tightening their grip around these Saints.

My heart doesn’t break for these – it wars! Like the Warrior Princess, there are times that my Saviour leads me into warring in prayer and declaration; destroying the works of the enemy. Then there are times, when I step back and listen. Times when I stand and watch – oh how I have watched for over a decade and seen beautiful people turning proud and ugly. Beautiful on the outside and glaringly ugly on the inside.

Abba Father has shown me the rotten foundations, the chasing out of the Prophets, from this very village. He has shown me the Religious ones, who harken to a strict set of rules and know nothing about His abundant grace. He has shown me the gems, which society overlooks. He has shown me His heart, and how He grieves over the factions, divisiveness, disunity and pain with the Ekklesia; but oh how He roars!

Will we awaken to His roar, or will we keep on the path of the familiar?

Hmm, it’s worth thinking about.

Living in 2020

Today, of all days, I am so thankful. After many many months of seeing a world flip and flounder over a supposed pandemic, nail biting elections, a break up and a reconciliation, death in the family AND turning 50, 2020 will go down in my diary and blog as the Year of Years!

I have been challenged to the core on what I believe. I have listened to liberals, conservatives, teachings that bore the stuffing out of me, teachings that rouse me, conspiracy theorists, Q movement, theorists on End Times and more things that just aren’t worth mentioning.

I have questioned the deconstruction that has occurred within my theology and wondered where I am headed? I’ve watched people I love totally knot themselves up into a ball and live in a world I just don’t understand, and I’ve watched some dear ones emerge after the longest time, bearing such great fruit.

I love being 50, I love so much that comes with a bit of age, experience and pain. But I didn’t like how I got here!

For the longest time, as much as I love words and writing, I just couldn’t make sense of my inner soul. All the things I have held dear, ways we have done church, doctrines that I thought were truth, all these things were tested and tried in my soul. My walk with God has been fraught with puddles upon damns of tears and snot, mingling down into a mass of unintelligible words and groanings. Yet I knew, as sure as God is on the throne, that I had to take this journey, predominantly on my own.

I stopped listening to everything, and started hearing the Lord speak to me in the darkest of nights, the earliest of mornings and the quiet still times I managed to get during the day. I felt like my anchor had come adrift, and my heart was just everywhere. I didn’t like what I was hearing, but I trusted the Lord, nonetheless.

We – Neil and I, separated and it was the hardest thing stepping back and watching. Wondering five hundred million things all at once that manifested in one thought – “wasn’t I enough”? Wrong question, The Almighty said! The answer was, “you’re an enabler” – the question was “why”? Oh, yes I remember….abandonment. The bane of my existence, the dreams that had come, now all manifested – and God was only just beginning!!

The deconstruction took me to places where every stone was turned over, every belief questioned, every friendship put under the microscope, every relationship analyzed and every thought was looked at. It has been exhausting!

The loss of things that have been part of your make up and the fabric of your soul for thirty years, is quite intense. I wanted to reach out, I wanted to share, I wanted to make that phone call, send that text – but I felt the stern warning of the Lord. This was something between He and I. Period.

Fast forward – Neil and I are the best we have ever been. There is redemption and healing when God’s mercies and truth kiss, at the Cross of Jesus. There is a wonderful embracing of all the flaws, complexities and wonders that marriage brings, and yet God weaves the most beautiful tapestry from our worst and makes it His best. WE are both extremely thankful.

You all know my take on our elections and what I feel about our Prime Minister, but as the anger and despair dissipated, I found I am able to pray for her regularly and sincerely. Wonders never cease! I don’t believe this ‘pandemic’ is going to linger for too much longer – it’s very inception was the greatest deception of the modern era. Combining the Cabal, the Democrats and a willing group within China, you have seen the ONLY thing that could stop President Trump from entering into a second term, seemingly. He will be victorious. Satan has overplayed his hand. The general public in America who were on the fence, wanted someone who would lead them through this supposed pandemic, and Biden was anointed that man. But the Lord will expose and indeed is exposing the deepest of corruption – and Trump already knew. He is one smart cookie!

So, as we near the end of this year, there is much to be thankful for. I will not stand back and wimper at some of the crap that has been thrown my way. I will stand and open my mouth, and I will sing the song of the Redeemed! I will not stay silent, I will declare His praise from the ends of the earth – NZ is pretty much it peoples!!

During this week, after a very long conversation with my Spiritual Ma, I finally got the breakthrough in this whole deconstruction process, that I had been waiting for. Among many many things that have been revealed to me, there came an understanding that I had been denying one of the biggest parts of who I am and what I am called to do! I had allowed the enemy to put me in the back and sit quietly, and be resided to the fact that I will never fully live out my calling as I wasn’t good enough, or enough in general.

Well now…..

This girl is long overdue to move out of THAT cave!!

Shalom and much blessings

Sandi xx