a temple

Your Body is Temple

‘Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honour God with your bodies.’ 1 Corinthians 6:19-20

This verse struck me a few years ago as I re-read it. It’s extremely significant that our bodies are temples.

When you look at the physical temple in the Old Testament you see that God was present there and His presence was so phenomenal and powerful that only certain people could enter. Yet in the New Testament, because of what Jesus did on the cross, it is said that we are the temples of God!

Facebook and Instagram Ad Continue reading “a temple”

a frustrated child

Loving People Through Their Expressions of Hurt

No matter how great our parents were, we will always carry around the hurts we experienced in our childhood. I’ve realised this from my own internal battles, feeling a compellingly vast amount of unidentifiable emotions that I could only imagine were there for a long time, brewing. It’s crazy how much our childhood experiences can scar us, forming schemas in our mind about how the world works and subsequent defence mechanisms that ultimately keep us in a prison of preparedness for the next hurt. Continue reading “a frustrated child”

out of control

Letting Go When You Feel Out of Control

They say that it’s exponentially harder to adjust to having two kids than to having one.

They were right. 

With my first child I struggled in the first three months with low feelings, stress and anxiety and once even crashed mentally and had to hide away for a night at another house as my thoughts were scaring me and my heart was racing. That was hard, but after implementing a routine and rejigging the balance of our (my husband and my) responsibilities and implementing a few tricks we read about, everything settled down, I felt confident again and raising one child became extremely doable and fluid.  Continue reading “out of control”

needed

So when those flowers were spread into the gravel road by the thick oil, it must have been the look on his face, the way he jumped to pick it up, the way the coins looked sad and heavy, the way he ran away without looking back, with the tin bucket it his hand, trying to rescue the flowers from the weighty oil — it must have been his witnessing, in the simple language of his child mind, the slipping away of the prospect of health, wealth and happiness from him and his family, that tore me apart in that moment… Continue reading needed