King Tide 🌊

Snells Beach king tide

I’ve shared some of the amazing opportunities that have made their way into my world, recently. Today was no exception. Yet, it was different from the other’s because this was a quiet secret between Abba Father and me, that came true.

Today, I had the absolute privilege and deepest of honours, of being interviewed by one of Neil, Sammy’s and my favourite TV presenters, Derek Gilbert. When I received the initial invitation to be interviewed by Derek, about my book My Way, it came on the day that I was interviewed for Radio NZ, and landed the monthly blog with Alzheimer’s Association. To have all three things happen in one day, was complete emotional overload for me. And here’s the reason why.

Some of you may remember that at the beginning of our last lockdown, we made the difficult decision to shut down SparkleMoon Publishing. I was in no way wanting to keep it up, or keep hemorrhaging money anymore. On top of that, a new lockdown, homeschooling and getting very sick, just made for time out. I didn’t like being a Publisher to other people, at all. One client I had, literally had me in tears on a constant basis. Also, I didn’t like the way I had been treated by some people within certain sectors of the Literary world, and so we stopped everything. Then, as only our heavenly Father can do, I got set up! I received a very unexpected call, by the NZ distributor of my books, and he essentially had a word for me – do what you need, make the appropriate changes, but PLEASE don’t shut down completely. He spoke of the tide having been out and a hard season about to turn into a massive King tide. Living at the beach, I knew exactly what he was saying. I promised him I would pray about the situation and speak with Neil.

None of us knew that within two weeks, these three opportunities would come up. None of us knew that My Way would sell out several times over and it would be difficult to fulfill the orders.

Amazing grace.

Some may think that I am showing off, skiting or thinking “look at me” – and I can assure you, nothing is further from the truth. Like my father before me, I suffer “stage fright” (or anxiety as we call it in the modern age) and I actually hate being the centre of attention. This anxiety has caused me much heartache and sorrow, and at times has been utterly debilitating. To the point where I no longer want contact with most of the outside world. I have found even the most simple things, incredibly difficult. Yet I know, that this whole journey of writing about Dementia has chosen me, and I must be faithful to God’s call. I must speak out about Dementia, and bring God’s truth, healing, word and light into an otherwise dark callous disease. I must conquer my own fears, and speak on behalf of those who no longer can. I can no longer run from this call. And I no longer want too.

The time is now.

Do I want to make sales from this book? Yes, I do. I want to give back to those who have sown into me and carried me through such a difficult season. Especially my beloved husband. He is a Rock Star 🌟 Without his love, prayers and constant hand holding, I wouldn’t be doing anything other than growing our garden and working as a cleaner!! Neil has given me the confidence I sorely lacked, to chase after my dreams, and given me wings to fly, so to speak. Whilst I’ve felt my wings have been clipped for a season, I believe the tide is now turning. But I’m also aware, I need to sort through this anxiety, once and for all. There’s no room for faith and fear to co-exist any longer.

So, I don’t know what 2022 will bring for this world, or indeed for this family. But one thing I do know, is that God is faithful. And that’s enough for me 🙂

Happy New Year friends, may it truly be blessed!! 🎉🎊🥳🙏

Sandi xx

Threads

Back of a Tapestry.

I have so many threads running through my mind – which one do I pull upon?

So many dreams that hurtle to the ground at a resounding force of violence and ferocity. How do I proceed?

A heart pounding, beating for the ONE and yet so entrenched in the myre and clay that surrounds me. Of whom do I seek? Flesh and bone; spirit and life?

Insults, injuries, sickness devours my mortal soul. Wounds gaping and screaming to be heard, but nonetheless no voice to voice the pain or roar as the lioness I am.

Demons come and choke at my throat causing my breath to skip a beat, and words to be gurgled in the darkness. Breathing becomes shallow as rasps shudder my body and heave from my exhausted mouth.

I see you. You accusing spirit, I hear your words, but will not allow them to take hold. I blame no one. Words are spoken, opinions given, but it is not my desire to take offense – you cannot make me, accuser, even though they tantalize generously.

I rest. I pray. I give my burdens up and onto the Hands of Grace. I sleep.

Fitting dreams of lands I do not know. But we are there. Helping those in need, offering solace and practicalities to those pilgrims running for their lives. I see a great city fall. A nation besieged. A terror group overtakes another nation and causes great war.

My dreams exhaust me…

Opinions, opinions, opinions everywhere. Clawing at me, beseeching me to listen to yet another great fear wrapped up in another person’s lie. I shall not succumb. Truth is weighed up against the collective opinion, and is left wanting. I need only THE truth.

We pit one against another. We no longer walk in love and grace. Us against them. Me against you. The world has gone mad. Good is now evil, evil reigns supreme in the hearts and minds in the citizens of this world.

Wonder – where have you gone? Wonder of all that is good, beautiful, true and lovely. I hear the distant sound of Louis singing about this ‘wonderful world’ but somehow it seems a bittersweet memory?

The threads are interwoven, they speak all so loudly, clamouring for my attention immediately. But I will not give over to the balls of messy threads, the odd lengths, the knots and ties, the unevenness of the mat, nor the colours bleeding into one.

I choose to look instead, at the Tapestry being woven throughout this life, and marvel at the beauty that comes from pain, devastation, love and truth.

The marvel that is Yeshua living in and through me.

Galatians 2:20 TLV. “And it is no longer I who live, but Messiah lives in me. And the life I now live in the body, I live by trusting in Ben-Elohim—who loved me and gave Himself up for me.”

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?

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…!!!