Relimom

Light under a bushel?

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 09:28:00 +0000

Since I have a phd in psychology and I'm a stay at home mom, people tend to tell me I'm hiding my light under a bushel.

'What a waste!' and 'So you don't do anything anymore?' are common responses, based on the assumption that taking care of your children doesn't require talent nor effort.

To all those people I would like to say: I did not hide my light under a bushel! I'm using it every day to make the world a better place by taking care of the future: my children.

Follow Me

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 12:07:00 +0000

I found this sweet little picture in our local thrift shop and I took it home with me.

Now it's hanging on our wall and I love to look at it. I know it's a childlike perspective on Jesus; indeed, it's how I used to picture Jesus myself. As this gentle man in long white robes, long flowing hair a beard and Birkenstocks.

Maybe that's what attracts me too it: the feeling of kindness and love it exudes.

Also, it makes me smile a little, because obviously the message is that all children are welcome, and Jesus loves them all. But at the same time the way they are depicted is very stereotypical. One might almost say a bit racist. But the intention was all good, I'm sure!

As a Dutch mom I just love the little Dutch girl in wooden shoes!

I did a little research on Tom Curr, and this is what I found:

Tom Curr was born in 1887, and died in 1958 at the age of 71. He was a member of Edinburgh Photographic Society and one of the three judges for the EPS Open Exhibition held in 1936. He also played a prominent role in the Boys' Brigade in Edinburgh.

In October 1938, he spoke to the EPS Portfolio Group. Tom gave his comments on and criticisms of the annual EPS Members' Exhibition in January 1947.

I couldn't find any more information, but good news: dr. Nancy Brewer is doing research on Tom Curr, so hopefully in future we'll know more about him.

Are your lights on?!

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Fri, 03 Jul 2009 10:35:00 +0000

Ten virgins were waiting for the bridegroom to come. It was nighttime and they all had lamps with oil in them, and the lamps were burning brightly.
They waited and waited. As it got later, they began to get drowsy, and one by one they fell asleep.
Then they heard someone calling, "Here's the bridegroom! Come out to meet him."
They began to get up, but some of the lamps began going out.
Five of the girls were prepared for just such an event. They had planned ahead and anticipated the delay. They had extra oil to add to their lamps. They were wise to make this preparation.
The five foolish girls had no extra oil.

I have always liked this story. I could easily imagine the five foolish girls and the five wise girls and always though the foolish girls, well, foolish! And smugly I thought: that wouldn't happen to me! Or would it...

Eckhart Tolle offers a very interesting interpretation of this story:

The five foolish girls are 'unaware' they do not live in the moment. Their lack of oil represents there lack of awareness.
The five wise girls on the other hand have enough oil = awareness to keep their lamp burning = in the present.

According to Eckhart Tolle the story of the five girls is about the possibility to live in a completely new state of awareness. A state of mind in which all your attention is focused on the here and now.

'There's no room for daydreams, thoughts, memories and expectations. There is nog room for tension or fear. All there is, is you with every fibre of your body.'

It gives a whole new meaning to the phrase: punching someone's lights out!

I get by with a little help from my friends

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 17:20:00 +0000

Because sometimes you need all the help you can get.

Wordless Wednesday

Guest post: There's something about Mary

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Fri, 08 May 2009 12:43:00 +0000

Beatrijs Hofland is a Dutch theologian and stay-at-home mom.

She was kind enough to write this beautiful guest post.

The most beautiful sound I ever heard: Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria. All the beautiful sounds of the world in a single word: Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria  (From: Westside Story) 

Why do I write about Maria?

Why would a protestant write about Maria? Sure, in protestan religion Maria is important as Jesus' mom, but she doesn’t occupy the same important place as in catholism.

Maria came to my life at special moments:

at a wedding
as the image that an important friend gave to me. S
during my study of women and religion, through which I got to know a different, more revolutionary side of Mary.

I even named my daughter Elisabeth, after my mother-in-law and Mary’s cousin Elisabeth, who knew that Mary was to give birth to Jesus:

41 When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. 42 In a loud voice she exclaimed: "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! 43 But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? 44 As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy.

(Lukas 1: 41-44, New International version) 

When your life starts in such a joyful manner, it must be wonderful! 

Mary who?

In biblical history Mary is the chosen one who gets to give birth to Jesus Christ. At the time she is still a virgin, and engaged to Joseph, but in a mysterious way she gets pregnant! Many men would call the whole thing off, but Joseph doesn’t because an angel tells him that Mary will bear the Son of God.

Jesus is born and has more brothers and sisters, according to the tradition. He spends his childhood in Nazareth, and at a young age goes to temple to learn and proclaim Gods’ Word.

During his lifetime he meets more Mary’s: Mary of Magdala, who becomes a very good friend and Mary, mother of John, who stands by him at the last moments of his life.   When we speak of Mary, mother of all mothers, we mean Mary, mother of Jesus.  

Searching for Mary

There are only a few Bible texts that speak about Mary (see the Gospels according to Mark, Matthew, Luke and John). In fact, very little was written about Jesus' birth. If wasn't until the First Christians realized the importance of Jesus' message, that they started to appreciate the importance of his biography. 

This is what's come to be known as tradition: at a later stage information about Jesus is combined with older material.  Early Christianity had a lot to explain to the already existing, much older religions. The more wonder and prophecy-stories about Jesus and Mary were told, the more authentic and profound the religion became.

Miracle stories about Mary

In time, many miraculous stories were told about Mary. These originated from folktales, legends and experiences from ordinary people and the official church. These stories were told because the bible left so many questions unanswered: if Mary is Jesus’ mother, what does that say about her own holiness? If Mary is that holy, how did she die?

To provide answers to these and other questions, the church declared the new stories about Mary true. These are the so-called church dogmas. They can't be found in the bible, but are derived from folk traditions. 

Not much women in the bible 

There aren't all that many stories about women in the bible, maybe that’s why Mary always appealed to so many women. Mary is kinda easy to talk to. Maybe just because she is a woman and a mom, and thereby seems closer than God the Father. You can ask her to pray for you and you can ask for her blessing, as this bride did during her wedding day.

A bride asks Mary for her blessing

The bride in her radiant white wedding gown kneels at an icon of Mary. Eyes closed, hands folded. Her blond her catches a ray of sunshine. Silently she speaks words that remain unheard. Behind her everyone waits in silence and awe, while Bach’s’ Ave Maria is softly being played. Then she gets up, tears on her face as she smiles at her groom.

This is not a scene from a play, nor is it a century old, but it is a scene from a modern wedding. The groom, already a dad to two teenage girls, is getting married again to this young, childless bride.

She was there by herself, with her own thoughts, her tradition and the thousands of women who have walked the same path. She prayed Mary for support in her marriage and asked a blessing: the gift of children. In the catholic tradition it is common practice for newlyweds to pray at a Mary statue, while the Ave Maria is being played.

Usually the bride lights a candle in the centerpiece the bride and groom bring themselves. Praying to Mary is taking a moment to stop and think of Jesus’ mother. It’s also a moment to ask her to bless the promises just made. Because Mary, like no one else, knew what it means to truly say yes to the Other, to God.   

I think it means a lot that the young woman is asking help of the mother of all mothers. Unusual? Maybe. Because divorce doesn’t sit well with church tradition, nor does getting remarried. It is like Mary gave this bride courage to enter this marital adventure. 

Asking a blessing means asking for approval. And asking a blessing from Mary or from God, means that asking for approval from the Eternal One. That is quite a thing, since you stand up against the official church that condemns divorce/ remarriage. 

Yet I believe there is room within Faith to ask for this blessing. I even think it is the core of religion: the good wins in the end, the judgments of people are less important than Gods’ Judgment.  Ave Maria (which means: Hail Mary), is the right song to the prayer.

The Ave Maria is Elisabeth’s and Gabriel’s prayer to Mary when she was told to be carrying the Savior: 

Mary full of grace, the Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb,
for thou hast borne Christ the Savior,
the Deliverer of our souls.
 Amen.   

Ave Maria, Hail Mary  

Many composers, like Verdi, Schubert and Gounod, put music to the prayer. And every day, everywhere in the world, this Hail Mary is being prayed. At home, schools, churches, hospitals, everywhere people ask Mary to take care of them and for her blessing.

It's such a beautiful thing to start the day with a prayer to Mary! To the mother who went through the unimaginable: departing from your son, giving him up for the greater good, watching him suffer. And yet it's also the most joyful feeling a mother can imagine: seeing your child go his own way, fulfilling his destiny.

Isn’t that what makes us a mother? Isn’t that every mother’s goal: watching your children becoming loving people, reaching their goals in life?

 Praying to Mary touches your soul, it is like talking to hundreds of generations of mothers who preceded you and want to show you your direction: this is your destiny, so it must be.

Literally: so be it (=amen).     

Want to read more from Beatrijs?

  Visit her blog! blog

Let it be, there will be an answer, let it be

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 17:17:00 +0000

I'm still kinda reeling from the shock of my son Jan, not being admitted to the school we chose for him. Last year he was diagnosed with PDD-NOS and the school told us they think he has needs they can't provide for.

When I told him this he listened quietly and then said: 'But they don't even know me!' which is a really good point if you ask me!
Anyway, the search for the right school continues, but I'm very worried and feel as if there's no room for my son at the inn!

As I was fretting and worrying about his future, suddenly this song popped into my head:

'When I find myself in times of trouble,
Mother Mary comes to me,
speaking words of wisdom: Let it be, let it be.
There will be an answer, let it be.'

I felt as if God was speaking to me by giving me this song, and I'm going to try to live its song.

Come join Music Monday and share your songs with us. One simple rule, leave ONLY the actual post link here. You can grab this code at LJL Please note these links are STRICTLY for Music Monday participants only. All others will be deleted without prejudice.

Riches

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 06:00:00 +0000

For more Wordless Wednesday go here

And God saw that it was good!

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Sun, 19 Apr 2009 07:25:00 +0000

The programme Britain's got talent showed a little bit of God last Saturday, when onto the stage walked a very homely woman. As the public snickered and looked down their noses at her, she awkwardly answered the questions of the jury, who looked very unimpressed.

But then she opened her mouth and out came the most beautiful sound! And the public stood up and applauded her, immediately casting their judgements aside! And the jury sat slackjawed and then smiled.

Her voice was like a gift of God, but the reactions of the public too. It was great to see how people react to something pure and beautiful and let go of their prejudices. There' hope for humanity yet!

And God saw that it was good!

Listen and be moved!

The second day of Easter

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 18:13:00 +0000

I felt a bit strange, not going to church at all on Easter, so I surfed the internet and found a service the second day of Easter. It was even a youth service, which is always a good thing I think, since they usually cut down on the amount of swollen language and old fashioned words like 'hence' and 'hear ye, hear ye!'

I loaded up the car with my kids and off to church we went. As the choir sang I felt decidly weepy, it was so beautiful. But soon I felt weepy again, but this time because of the kids. Even though it was a youth service it was quite long and there was lots of complicated language. So after about an hour the kids started fidgeting, and pushing each other, and I was hissing for them to be quiet. I couldn't enjoy the beautiful songs and music any more and I too, started longing for the service to end.

Then my son Ot leaned towards me and whispered in a sweet voice: 'You know what mummy? Going to church is even less fun than cleaning up my room.'

So there you have it. Something good came out of it after all.

Thank you God, for giving my son a whole new motivation to clean his room.

Good Friday

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 17:00:00 +0000

On Good Friday my eldest daughter came home from school looking a bit green around the gills and told me they'd watched a movie of Jesus Christ and his crucifixion. My mind immediately leaped to the conclusion she'd been exposed to Mel Gibson's gruesome The Passion of the Christ.
'The teacher said everyone has to see this movie once!' she explained.
I gave her a nice cup of tea with lots of extra sugar.

I'm happy to say I've reached the honorable age of thirtynine without having seen this gruesome movie. I was scared off by the promise of nails being slammed through legs and lots of splattering blood.

As a mom I would not expose my thirteen year old daughter to such horror. I think she's too young, so I was quite angry that some teacher had taken it upon herself to expose my little girl to this movie. And I decided to speak to the teacher about it and give her a piece of my mind!

Uh-oh.. A couple of days later however, it turned out it was my imagination that was out of line, not the teacher. When I talked to my daughter some more, it turned out the movie wasn't so much The Passion of the Christ, as it was Jesus Christ Superstar! A much more innocent movie altogether!

The mom's mite

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Fri, 03 Apr 2009 07:11:00 +0000

Many a night, when the kids are all tucked in, and are finally, and mercifully silent, I start worrying that I wasn't a good enough mom that day. That I didn't give them all the attention they deserve, that I wasn't there for them enough.

It's an awful feeling of not quite measuring up. And the thing is: I really, réally want to do a good job as a mom and I feel as if I'm giving it all I've got, but it's never quite enough.

Then today, I thought of the story of the widow's mite: she gave all she had, and it was enough.

So now I'm trying to give myself a break: I give all I have to give, therefore I give enough.

Casting no more stones!

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 14:33:00 +0000

"If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to cast a stone at her."

If there's one lesson motherhood has taught me it's not to cast stones! Whenever I find myself judging other parents it comes back to haunt me.

When I was pregnant with my first child I judged parents who used pacifiers.
'I'm néver going to use those!' I said with all the snobbish certainty of someone who clearly isn't a mom yet. But then our daughter was born and just wouldn't stop crying, so my husband when to the nearest store to buy one, and mercifully the crying stopped.

And as the kids grew older I once visited a neighbour's house, and was taken aback by the many, many children's dvd's. '
I'm never gonna let my kids watch that many dvd's!' I decided then and there. But it's thirteen years later and our bookcase looks like a dvd store.

Like I said: I've learned not to throw stones any more.
'Cause my own house is of glass too.

A good girl

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 11:11:00 +0000

I do not speak out of turn and I play by the rules of life. I try to do the right thing and I work hard. I suppose I'm what you would call 'a good girl'.

So when I read the story of the lost son I always feel for the eldest. He does everything right, but who gets the big party? Right, the youngest who has squandered his whole inheritance!

And that's not even the worst of it. The worst part is that it's the eldest son who gets the bad press, for resenting his brother and therefore being petty and smallminded.

As a mom I totally understand the love of the father and his joy for having his lost son back, but sometimes it seems as if being bad gets you more love and appreciation.

I suppose this makes me smallminded and petty too, but I really wonder about this.

As a mom I make it my business to appreciate all my kids and not, strange as this may sound, favor the ones that are bad!

The wisdom of Solomon

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Sun, 15 Mar 2009 12:21:00 +0000

As a mom I often sigh: I wish I had the wisdom of Solomon. Sometimes I feel as if all I do is make, carefully thought out, decisions about éverything.

About whether it's warm enough to go out without a jacket, whether it's okay for the youngest to go to the playground all alone, and whether my son really does have a bad case of PDD-NOs, which I highly doubt. But hey, what do I know! I'm not as wise a Solomon. I'm just a mom struggling badly to do a good job.

Yes if only I had the wisdom of Solomon my life would so much easier.

But then I would probably be in prison for suggesting to slice a baby in half.

Look who I found!

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 07:31:00 +0000

Look who I found in a thrift shop for only 12 dollars?!
Mother Mary, mom of all mothers.

Meeting with God

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Mon, 09 Mar 2009 12:27:00 +0000

It's been quite some time since I went to church. I suppose the last time was on Christmas Eve. That's quite some time, and I wonder: is that a bad thing? Can you be a good Christian but seldomly go to church? And what about the church: doesn't it mean they're doing something wrong that it's so hard to get people to come?

With me, it's just that life gets in the way. During the week I'm so busy getting up early and getting the kids to school. When the weekend comes all I want to do is, well, nothing.

Lately, Sunday morning has become the morning when I go out for a long run. Because my husband is home I finally have the opportunity, and I often feel that during my runs I catch glimpses of God in the beautiful nature that surrounds me. In the songs of the birds and the friendly people that greet me.

So maybe you don't have to go to church to think about God or meet him. Perhaps you can meet him everywhere.

Something to tide me over, while waiting for the second coming

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 10:31:00 +0000

The Easter Bunnies have come!

For more Wordless Wednesday go here

I tell you, get up, take your fears and worries and go home

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 14:55:00 +0000

Fear can paralyse you. So can insecurity. Unfortunately I'm well acquainted with both. They come for a visit every day, and even though I tell them they're not welcome, they always get their foot in the door. Once they're in, they quickly make themselves comfortable and eat all my favorite chips.

I fear something happening with my kids, I have fears about the future, insecurities about my performance as a mom, fears about what others might think of me, the list of things to fear is endless.

But I don't want to be paralysed by fear and insecurity: I want to live my life to the fullest. How do I do that?

Jesus simply tells the paralysed man to take his bed and get up! According to Anselm Grün, a Benedictine monk, the bed symbolises the fears and worries that have kept the man paralysed. He doesn't heal him from his worries and fear: he simply tells him to take them with him.

So that's what I'm going to try and do: I won't let my fears paralyse me anymore! I'll just grab them and take them home with me. They are a part of me after all, so maybe I'd better welcome them in and try and live with them.

Then maybe we can share the chips.

Open your eyes!

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 15:25:00 +0000

I love the sounds of children playing. The soft ticking of duplo blocks being put together, the light rumble of dice falling and the sound of paper being colored to shreds. As a mom I know no greater bliss than children who can play endlessly.

But my kids don't like duplo blocks, they think games are 'dull' and as for coloring: they've been there, done that and got the t-shirt.

As I was mourning my children's lack of playing skills I suddenly heard the sound of child's play: 'Boing boing, 'Tsk, tsk, tsk' and 'bleep bleep bleep.' They were the sounds of my children playing on their Nintendo endlessly and playing games on the computer.

As I was wishing for my kids to play for hours on end I missed the fact that they already do. Only not as I thought they should.

So not only do you have to be careful what you wish for, you should look around you to make sure your wish hasn't already be granted and you've missed it.

This reminds me of the story by Annie Lamott in her book Traveling Mercies:

A man is sitting at a bar getting drunk in Alaska. Hes telling the bartender about how he recently lost his faith in God after his twin engine plane crashed in the tundra.
'Yeah,' he says bitterly, I lay there in the wreckage praying with all of my might and crying out to God to save me, and he didnt raise a finger to help me. I'm through believing in a God who doesnt care about what happens to me.'
'But youre here talking to me,' says the bartender, 'You were saved.'
'Yeah, that's right,' says the man, 'because finally some Eskimo came along. . .'

So now I remind myself every day to open my eyes so I can see and hear God's messages.

Cock-a-doodle-doo!

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 11:30:00 +0000

Of all Jesus' disciples I have always disliked Peter. He was such a bigmouth, and when it came down to it he was always the first to be scared or chicken out.

Take for example the 'storm incident', when he started to walk on water and then got scared. Or when he kept falling alseep on Jesus in his hour of need in the garden of Gethsemane. But his biggest foul must have been his betrayal of Jesus, flat out denying he was one of his disciples. (Matthew 26:71-75)

Every time I heard this story I hoped Peter would keep his promise and nót betray Jesus, but every time he did. And when the rooster crowed three times I shook my head at such an unpleasant person.

So it is with great reluctance that I admit: I may be more like Peter than I'ld like. Sometimes when I get together with my girlfriends and we bash our husbands, I can almost hear the rooster's lonely cry. Or last Monday, when we had a parent teacher meeting and my husband said something all the other parents thought was stupid. Didn't I lean away from him just a little bit? Cock-a-doodle-doo.

So when I think of Peter now, I think of him as someone who had a lot to learn. And so do I.

And really, there's nothing wrong with that!

I believe

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Sun, 08 Feb 2009 12:30:00 +0000

As a child I firmly believed in heaven. I pictured Jesus sitting up there in his white robe on a beautiful throne surrounded by angels and children. And I believed that in heaven you would meet everyone who had died on you.

This belief was a great band aid when my grandmother died. Sure I was sad, but some day, somewhere I was sure we would meet up again, and maybe go grab a cup of coffee together. Obviously I also had a great belief in Starbucks. I was worried though about what would happen when someone married again after the loss of a spouse. Because in heaven you would have two spouses.

I don't think of heaven that way anymore. I'm not sure what I think anymore. I'm searching, feeling my way forwards.

Here's what I have found out so far:

I do not believe that God is up there somewhere watching us, judging us.
I do not believe that we, as the human race, are inheritantly sinnfull. I think we are capable of tremendous good and tremendous bad.
I do not believe you should take the bible literally. It's written by humans after all, quite some years after Jesus died. But that doesn't mean it's not a wonderful source of wisdom, guidance and good.

So what do I believe?

I believe God is good.
I believe God is like a parent wanting the best for us, but like a parent he can't take away the obstacles we face in life. He can only be there for us.
I believe Jesus was a great man who, even though he only lived to be 33, has provided us with a beautiful example of how to live life.
I believe God is in all of us.
I believe it's wonderful to believe in God.
I believe God provides safety and comfort.

So as I continue my journey I believe God is my travelling companion.
I believe I'm not alone.

Forever

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Wed, 04 Feb 2009 09:27:00 +0000

Isaiah 40:8 The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand for ever.

Wordless Wednesday

The second coming

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 13:40:00 +0000

I grew up in the country and visited a small local school. We read books about little boys called Lucifer who got away with stealing a cooky in chapter one, and were riddled with guilt for the rest of the book.

We started every day with a story from the bible and I listened mesmerized when that mean Delila betrayed Samson and made him get a really bad hair cut giving a whole new meaning to 'a bad hair day'. And how poor Eli broke his neck when he keeled over in his chair. From then on I made sure I didn't lean too far back!

On a gloomy day in January our teacher showed us a newspaper clipping picturing the the Shroud of Turin telling us about the promise of Jesus' return. I was all excited expecting Jesus back any day. Every day I looked at the sky to see if he was coming, and on beautiful sunny days, when the sky was a beautiful Teletubby blue I was sure: this is the day Jesus is coming back! In my mind I saw him descending on the same cloud he left on.

Now I'm almost forty years old, and sometimes I still scan the sky looking for Jesus, but I also feel a strong connection to spiritual christianity, the way it's described by Anneke Pokerman in her book 'Letting go of the church'.

Spiritual Christianity emphasises Jesus as a guide, helping us find our inner spirit, the Christ within us. And maybe the long awaited return of Jesus isn't far and away and everywhere all at once, but personal. He may be coming back to every person individually, when that person is able to recognize and meet him.

Footprints in the sand

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Thu, 29 Jan 2009 18:46:00 +0000

During thirteen years of motherhood I have lost the ability to eat like a lady. Because I have to be the cook, the waiter and the guest all at the same time I shovel my food inside my mouth like there's no tomorrow. That leaves me a lot of time waiting for the kids to finish their meal, so I use this time to be good mom and read them stories from the bible.

But after several years of reading the same stories over and over again the kids started yelling: 'Simson, Delila is setting you up!' and when the sheep was lost they yelled: 'He'll find him again. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt!'

So I decided it was time for something different. And with great care I chose the beautiful poem 'Footprints in the sand'.

With my voice quivering with emotion I read the poem to them, and I felt my eyes welling up as I read the part about God carrying you through the hard parts of life. Then I looked expectantly at my kids waiting for their cries of wonder and joy.

'Mummy, how could he walk next to you if he was lying down?' Jan asked.
'No Jan, I didn't say he was lying down, I said he was walking!'
'No you didn't! You said he was lying down, so that doesn't make sense.'
'No it doesn't!' Teuntje agreed.
'And it's freezing outside, so there wouldn't be any footprints!' Ot added.
'I thought God is in heaven. What was he doing on the beach?' Piet asked.

I took a deep breath and thought: 'This must be one of those moments when God is carrying me...'

Footprints in the Sand

Last night I had a dream. I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Across the sky flashed scenes from my life. For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand: one belonged to me, the other to the Lord.

After the last scene of my life flashed before me, I looked back at the footprints in the sand. I noticed that at many times along the path of my life, especially at the very lowest and saddest times, there was only one set of footprints.

This really troubled me, so I asked the Lord about it. “Lord, you said once I decided to follow you, You’d walk with me all the way. But I noticed that during the saddest and most troublesome times of my life, there was only one set of footprints. I don’t understand why, when I needed You the most, You would leave me.”

The Lord replied, “My son, my precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of suffering, when you could see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.

Ask and thou will be given?

noreply@blogger.com (Nicole Orriëns) — Wed, 21 Jan 2009 13:46:00 +0000

And Jabes called upon the God of Israel, saying: If blessing thou wilt bless me, and wilt enlarge my borders, and thy hand be with me, and thou save me from being oppressed by evil. And God granted him the things he prayed for.
1 chronicles, 4:1

With growing enthusiasm I read Elizabeth Gilberts book Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia. In fact I regularly had to put it down to think and wonder about everything I was reading.

One of the things that touched me was the part about praying and the requests and questions you can ask God.

'I explained to Ida my personal opinions about prayer. Namely, that I don't feel comfortable petitioning for specific things from God, because that feels to me like a kind of weakness of faith. I don't like asking, 'Will you change this or that thing in my life that's difficult for me?' Because - who knows? - God might want me to be facing that particular challenge for a reason. Instead, I feel more comfortable praying for the courage to face whatever occurs in my life with equanimity, no matter how things turn out.'
Iva listened politely, then asked, 'Where'd you get that stupid idea?'
'What do you mean?'
'Where did you get the idea that you aren't allowed to petition the universe with prayer? You are part of this universe, Liz. You're a consituent - you have every entitlement to participate in the actions of the universe, and let your feelings be known. So put your opinion out there. Make your case. Believe me - it will at least be taken in to consideration.'

After this conversation Elizabeth goes on to write God a request asking him to help her husband agree to the divorce. Soon after her phone rings: it's her lawyer telling her the divorce is finalized. Coincidink? Or God?

The idea of being free to ask God anything feels liberating. Like Elizabeth I thought the only thing you can ask is the wisdom to accept life as it presents itself to you. Not that you could actually request certain things! I feel like a kid in the candy store: 'What do I want to ask God?'

What to ask?

The first thing that pops into my mind is to ask for my children's happiness, and asking for good health for all of us.
Then I'm silent. It's not as easy as I thought to know what to ask for.

Asking for problems?

In Buddhism problems are thought to be essential for a fullfilling life of personal growth, so they actually have a prayer asking for problems. But though I do appreciate the growth that comes from facing problems, to pray for them? I think not. I'm sure they'll present themselves without God's help.

Maybe I should pray to God for the knowledge what to pray for?

What would you pray for?