Anna Victoria Hodges

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Tue, 07 May 2013 17:08:13 +0100

Through the darkest of nights, travelled have we
Through events unknown and unforeseen
Through it all, I ask of thee
Let me carry your load, come home to me

Buckling under pressure, you’re found on bended knee
Saying “Heavenly Father can you answer my plea?”
Eyes lifted to the clouds, they’re all that you see
In times uncomfortable, come home to me

Resilience is to define buoyancy
To recover when hard done by, a true ability
Your time will come, it’s beckoning
Faith in you always, come home to me

Safety; Protected from or not exposed to danger or risk; not likely to be harmed or lost.

Tue, 26 Feb 2013 13:36:00 +0000

When you’re all I see
Oh how you won’t define me, calamity
With the refusal to ruin me,
Oh how I’ll overcome you, capacity
The oppressing blanket
You’re not going to see the end of me, finality
Because really, the profanity, the opacity you bring me is but a cavity
But I contain the resilience to patiently focus on the Heavenlies in the midst of a tragedy
Knowing it’s all woven into my life’s tapestry
Oh how beautiful the vulnerability of a fragile heart held in the hands of the Father, security.

Advent(ure)

Mon, 03 Dec 2012 10:45:00 +0000

Feeling like a visitor in the place you’ve called home for six years is a questionable notion to which I find myself now associated with.
I never thought I’d leave Sheffield and all of a sudden I’m lost in plans made for packing boxes, saying my goodbyes and letting go of dreams I once had for the city to then find myself in the shadows of memories made and experiences shared.

A few weeks ago I visited my favourite places around the city and ended up in the Peak District, the beautiful accessory that drapes itself around Sheffield boasting that life is so much better without city lights and cluttered sidewalks.
I visited the places where I’ve spent time with or without people. I sat and said goodbye to it all. I was stuck by how much I’d missed - how much more I have to learn about those places, those people and how beautiful it all really is.
Autumn is one of my favourite seasons; it’s where the world prepares itself for colder nights to come and says goodbye to the year gone by with a polite nod. When you give yourself a moment to reflect on your year, your story so far and how you got to where you are in life, you appreciate the small victories and the little defeats that made you who you are today.

Appreciate everything that’s brought you to this moment and let it go. Enjoy everything about your ‘now’ and give yourself a chance to breathe. We’re all so busy; we’re whisked away by plans made, work given and the sweet procrastination from actually taking risks or having an adventure.
The word ‘adventure’ has a few meanings. It’s a noun and a verb. Adventure; whatever it is to you - plan one and go on one and don’t do it alone, even if it’s for a few hours on an early December evening - be spontaneous for a while.
Feel like a visitor in somewhere familiar and find yourself falling in love with it all over again.

a little announcement.

Fri, 16 Nov 2012 00:01:05 +0000

There’s so many people I’ve grown close to in Sheffield and because of that I didn’t want anyone to find this out through someone else – so here’s a blog from me to you.
A little announcement.

On the last day of my A level exams I moved to Sheffield to do an internship for a church in the city and after finishing the internship I stuck around. The past six years have been incredible, I’ve learned a lot and grown a lot and whoever you are reading this, if you’ve had a large or small part to play within those years, thank you, because anytime I’ve spent with you has somehow developed me into who I am today, me writing this.
The past few years really have been amazing, I’ve found more about who I am and who I want to be and that’s thanks to you, you reading this. Thank you for loving me and dreaming with me.

Looking back on the past six years is surreal, so much has happened and it’s happened all too quickly. I’ve laughed a lot and let go a lot and it’s time to let go again and time to move on, my time in Sheffield has come to an end and it’s time to go.

I’m not going anywhere far away but I’m leaving all the same. I’ll be living in Leeds - I’ve joined a church there where I can gain a lot but most of all give a lot. Leeds is a creative city that connects the North with London so I want to position myself in a place where I can develop creatively and pursue my dreams for creative media.

I’ll be leaving in the next month or so (if I can get someone to move into my house in Sheffield) so I can start the new year in Leeds.

I want to be able to say goodbye on a personal level so coffees or breakfasts are more than welcome, give me a text and we can arrange something.

So there it is - an end to the most phenomenal chapter so far.
Until the next one.

Anna

A city(e)scape

Thu, 11 Oct 2012 23:13:00 +0100

What inspires you? What is it that graces your eyes and makes you feel alive? There are two things in life that when they have my attention, they take me and my thoughts away for a while where for that moment in time, I’m removed from my somewhat all consuming present.

Music and scenery, if it’s a city or the countryside it doesn’t matter, music has the power and ability to define that moment and make it whatever it needs to be for me at that time and there I am, totally taken away by it all.

A month ago I was driving to a gig in Leeds but for what was the beginning of my evening was now the end of the day for the city folk, so as I was driving into the city, they were leaving it.
All kinds of people from all walks of life were sharing the same moment, the cityscape and it’s beauty. But what do we regard as beautiful?
Countless old beaten buildings, that appeared to have no use to anyone, were hidden away by other buildings that have grown up and around them - ever adapting to their new surroundings. But the old forgotten buildings still serve a purpose, they tell a story of a time before now. They are memories of the city’s past but on an idle Wednesday evening, the people in Leeds left the city not acknowledging it’s beauty, they left as if they were escaping, no longer viewing a cityscape but rather seeing a route for a city escape.

When I drove past people leaving Leeds, I noticed their cold disposition, how their day had taken a toll on them and it was now time to leave it for another eight hours before returning and welcoming a new day in.

Let’s go back to the ruined and forgotten buildings, though. Old buildings are my favourite, they tell a deeper story; they’re such a contrast to the new and boast that, in their day, they were of great use and now they are a landmark in time, they existed and they still exist but only now they’re in remembrance of what once was.
I can’t help but acknowledge them and relate to them. We all have ‘forgotten old buildings’ that we adapt our lives to and find ways of coping with. Whatever the ‘broken, forgotten buildings’ represent in your life, let me encourage you to acknowledge them, to be reminded that they were of use once and they served a beautiful purpose that made you who you are today. It’s ok to question why they existed but never regret their existence, they tell a chapter of your story. Let them be a reminder of what once was. When you visit them, don’t be tempted to escape but rather see them as a metaphorical landscape, a place to smile upon and be thankful that they exist as they are. And you as you are, is also beautiful - whatever the definition of that word means to you, embrace it and love it and be it.

Talk To The (Potter's) Hand.

Sun, 07 Oct 2012 21:59:00 +0100

On an autumn evening I find myself here again. In a pensive moment where my thoughts finally have permission to somehow work themselves out. Although time has graced me with such an opportunity, I’ve found myself in an all too familiar place of reflection and I come across thoughts that leave me with an unfamiliar disposition that I can’t quite acquaint myself with.

Have you ever had a moment where you realise you’re now an adult? You now have responsibility, you’re building a life and an environment for yourself that will one day define you, what you live for and why you live for it. Being an adolescent you had two options when a crisis would emerge, you either dealt with it or you didn’t. When I was a teen and a problem arose and, for whatever reason, I chose not to face it, I would say the phrase “talk to the hand” it was in refusal to what someone or something was trying to say or do.

I was driving home a few weeks ago and in the middle of a discussion about life and it’s unpredictable nature, the painful times when we really have to rely on the grace of God, my brother said those times are like dints in clay and God just has to smooth them out.

How true.

The Bible’s way of saying this is;

“O house of Israel, can I not do with you as this potter has done? declares the LORD. Behold, like the clay in the potter’s hand, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel.”

When we go through times that don’t make sense (to us) would we find ourselves talking to the hand, the potters hand. This is a different hand to that of a young dismissive adolescent, it’s a hand that wants to actively participate in the shaping and the structure of our lives. It’s the hand that wants to rebuild the broken parts and strengthen the damaged areas.

In times of loss, rejection or deep sorrow be comforted that God never takes His hands off you or your situation. As a potter is always forming and handling the creation, so God does with you. He never takes His hands away from you, never refuses you. There’s not a situation too broken to be fixed and there’s never a moment when He’s disappointed with His creation.

In the brave words of Elisabeth Elliot “God never withholds from His child that which His love and wisdom call good. God’s refusals are always merciful, severe mercies at times but mercies all the same. God never denies us our hearts desire except to give us something better”.

Whatever those “refusals” represent in your life, whatever state of confusion you find yourself in as a result of those refusals, be comforted that God’s story never ends there. We may plan our course but the Lord determines our steps - which is to say, “rest easy”.

And as my thoughts draw to a close, as the night rests and prepares itself for another day ahead, let me leave you with another quote from Elisabeth Elliot “leave it in the hands that were wounded for you”.

Leave it in the potters hands.

And if you too find yourself on an autumn night, reflecting and trying to acquaint yourself to an unfamiliar situation which is has all of a sudden become your reality, talk to the (potters) hand. He cares, He knows and He will never let you go.

Friday Afternoon Thoughts.

Fri, 04 May 2012 14:59:00 +0100

In an idle moment when I’m at work but so far removed from work I’m back there, that place where my mind is at most ease and can run away freely chasing after memories made only just a few hours ago, that’s where for that glimpse in time, I’m happy.

And there in that moment I can celebrate, love, dance and find calm. But the torment of not being back there brings me back to reality when I find myself in only a moment of a memory but happy that I know it exists.
The circumstances in life that I went through to bring me to this place where those memories are made, I can somehow find thanks for them and move from them and remember that those other memories, the difficult ones where I had to learn the hard way all somehow work together to bring me to this moment, the one where I delight in my present.

Regret is a difficult emotion to deal with; it’s a very powerful noun but lives itself out as a verb. Decisions, feelings, thoughts and actions can all be determined due to regrets that we carry around without even knowing it.

Hard times, as trying as they are, help us appreciate what is in front of us now. I remember when I was 18 and asked God to do something beautiful in my life, it was only a few years later when I read through my old journal and came across those ignorant and carless words which were scribbled down somewhere in the early hours of the morning, that for me to of seen the ‘beautiful’ I was looking for, I had to recognise the ugly.

I took a personality test at work a year ago, without knowing me it described me better than some of my closest friends would be able to. It explained to me that I love being surrounded by people and think of them before myself because when I’m on my own I become my worst critic – so I position myself around people who bring me life and help me process the reality of my situation.

It takes strength and courage to recognise and realise and rectify the ‘ugly’ in our lives but how beautiful and how gracious and how loving it is to do – not only for ourselves but for the people in our lives who help us to appreciate our ‘now’ the people who we make those memories with who make moments blissful.

Acknowledge the hardships then send them on their way, wave them goodbye and walk into whatever lies ahead of you now. And I hope you too can sit at work or wherever but not really be there but be in the memories which you made only a few hours ago with the people in life who mean the most to you and make you thankful.

And The Greatest of These is Love.

Fri, 23 Mar 2012 13:38:00 +0000

A few nights ago I was driving past my favourite spot near my parent’s house. It’s a lake, near a castle. The sky was clear and the moon was bright demonstrating its subtle beauty.
I drove past the lake and was surprised at how well it reflected the night’s sky as if it was doing it a favour.
The way water reflects the sky is a beautiful thing and I found myself thinking about reflections and reactions. Again.

What am I reflecting and how do I react?

The main denominator about the image isn’t the water and it isn’t the sky. It’s the wind. The thing you don’t see which affects the combination of it all. When the wind blows everything changes, the water creates a distorted picture of what it was attempting to reflect and the calm turns into something slightly chaotic.

And how undignified and how vulnerable the water looks when the wind blows.

So going back to the question, what’s our reaction? In hard times, in the times when we feel so easily shaken and easily moved, what’s our response?

I watched a preach a few days ago named after the Bel Biv Devoe song ‘That Girl is Poison’. It explains how we can all have things in our life which can be destructive and eat away at us and try to define us. But they don’t have to define us – our reaction can stop that.

What am I reflecting?
I’ve recently worn myself out in striving to be perfect. Unfortunately and realistically, that’s never going to happen.
All I can do is acknowledge who I’m reflecting.
When the winds blow and do their best to affect where I’m at, I find myself drenched in the grace of God. Again.

The view I saw the other night by the lake made me aware of God’s grace and how it’s His power which is made perfect in my weakness. And how in the ugliness of our brokenness, He makes us look beautiful once again.

And that’s ok.
And that’s healing.

In our weakness, His love is strong. In our failure, He has overcome. In our poverty, He has provided. And in our emptiness, our striving and our lack of clarity, He reigns.

He is consistent.
His love wins.

And so be encouraged, remember that Jesus reigns. His love is mightier than any gust of wind which tries to knock us of our feet.
Stand strong.
Walk with confidence.
And reflect the beautiful grace which Jesus so freely gives us.

The Neighborhood and I

Thu, 16 Feb 2012 21:33:00 +0000

Impulsive moments make me feel alive.

Tonight, I had an impulsive moment.
I took a run around my neighborhood for the fist time. I’ve lived here since January and it hadn’t even crossed my mind yet.
But tonight it did. So I ran and gave my thoughts twenty minutes to define themselves.

At the end of my run I called in at my local shop to pick up some groceries. On my way home I found myself on a familiar street which I’ve only ever driven on, never walked on. And it was empty. Nothing but me and my grocery bag in my left hand and some detergent in my right. The city’s skyline had won me and I was lost somewhere in its ever changing reflections and movements. Loneliness or the city noise didn’t undermine the moment.

House lights filled homes with warmth and leaked onto the pavements outside and danced on the concrete bringing colour and life to it. And there I was, finally inspired to write again. I took a left turn too soon and ended up going in the wrong direction but I didn’t care, the city streets took me away to inspiration and enthusiasm, places which have been somewhere slightly forgotten to me for a while now.

I couldn’t get home quick enough. I just hoped I wouldn’t bump into anyone I knew in case my thoughts would leave me again. Clinging onto them, I drifted home staring at the clear sky, holding my grocery bag and detergent as if they were my only possessions.

Running upstairs I looked for my journal to write all of this down and I couldn’t find it. But anything would do. I found an old letter and wrote these words down. Words which would remind me of a time when my inspiration came back and brought me life.

And if these words somehow find you, I hope your inspiration, your passion or your hope returns to you also. And I hope they make you feel alive, even if it’s only for 20 minutes on a Thursday night.

What's Your Secret?

Fri, 03 Feb 2012 10:57:00 +0000

I watch a video quite often which inspires me. It’s called Fifty People One question – confessions on life, death and God. The main video which is promoted on their website is ‘Post a Secret?’ it’s so personal and requires vulnerability, a delicate heart and an open mind.

I watched the video again this morning and once again, it moved me. There’s something so pure in being honest and true to who you are. Even now, a few years after the project, people post their secrets. I read through what people decided to share and express and it was a reality slap. We are all broken people. The amount of comments about heartache and heartbreak was vast. These people find comfort in the acknowledgement of their grief and are comfortable with posting it on a website for millions to read where one day their post with be somewhere once slightly forgotten and yet they may not share it with their closest friend.

This morning when I was driving to work I was reminded about something which I’ve been trying to challenge myself on – to love, serve and inspire people who I come into contact with, not only my friends or family but the shop assistant who I need help from – the call centre person on the other end of the phone hundreds of miles away – the person who bumped into me on the street when they were in a rush. Those people all have feelings, failures, hopes and dreams and I have the privilege, the opportunity, the responsibility to love them and serve them the best way that I can.

So what’s my secret?
Right now, I have no inspired words. No fresh take on any of life’s adventures. No muse and no scripture. I don’t have motivation and I don’t feel successful. But what I know remains is a deep rooted love in Jesus Christ.

A love which is so beyond words.
So beyond hype or infatuation.

A quote which I love is;
“Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love become as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable.”

When I find myself uninspired and unengaged with where I’m at in life, I lift up my eyes and I find that love again.
Someone recently asked me where my security lies.

So where does it lie? Is it in my creativity? In my title? Or in the hands of my Heavenly Father?

The Fathers love is so deep burning an unquenchable that it never simmers or fades. That’s where inspiration, motivation and life is found. Out of the creativity which is somewhere slightly forgotten - I find confidence and trust in my Heavenly Father – who gives again the inspired words, fresh takes on life’s adventures and where hope and life reside.

The brave people who dare to share their secrets on a random website and find comfort in knowing there’s someone else out there who knows how it feels, they’re the ones who need compassion, inspiration and hope.

There’s no real point in this blog other than reminding you and myself that we are uniquely placed to bring freedom and life to those around us who maybe lacking it or in need of experiencing it in the first place.

Whatever you’ve been through that’s brought you to the place you’re in now, be thankful for it, embrace it, learn from it and let it go. Life is a beautiful thing and whatever yours looks like; I hope that you find comfort in knowing that someone else has your back, even if they are a few hundred miles away.

Three things remain; faith, hope and love. The greatest of these is love.

Selah.

Mon, 30 Jan 2012 10:57:00 +0000

Diverted traffic has to be one of the most patience testing experiences. A few weeks ago we were driving around Manchester, 10pm, trying to find our way home and every road which we thought we needed to be on was diverting us somewhere else.
Classic.
When you’re tired, lost and unsure about where you’re at it can quickly become a testing situation.
The day before this journey I’d written my car off by falling asleep at the wheel, making the trip home a little tenser for me as I was still shaken up from a previous experience.

Why does night time change everything? That hovering dark hue which make things seem even more confusing, even more hopeless or cold. The thing about night time is how powerful lights are, how we strongly rely on the power of a simple headlight or streetlight which we can easily ignore in the daytime when our surroundings easily distract us by entertaining us with their constant momentum of life. But how powerful is the strength of the light that will lead us home?

We all go through night time seasons. We all have that overwhelming moment when things just feel like they’re too much, like you’ve been diverted from that road you know will lead you to that place you’ve been planning for. But what if that road is actually the wrong road? That actually, the diversion is saving you from taking the wrong route for the wrong time in your life. Diversions, as frustrating as confusing as they demonstrate, they’re actually a gracious gesture, leading you on to a safer, secure and well defined journey.
And that warm beam of light casting clarity on the journey? It’s essential. It’s dedicated to your path and it’s not going to let you down, regardless of your previous experiences.
When you’re lost, when you’re majestic hurts feel like your only embrace, rely on the light which will lead you through that diversion, ushering you to a wholesome and integral path.
Our beautiful letdowns give us courage to wholly and solely rely on the Grace of God to be our light. To direct us and lead us when we’re lost.
Our paths make way for others to follow and learn from where we’re at, where we’ve been and the gracious hand of God which denies us of a path which may have lead us to even more confusion or worry.

The bible says “Passion for my Father’s house consumes me”. When you’re tirelessly diverted, when you thought you were on the right path; find yourself consumed with passion for the bigger picture - seeing His Kingdom come and His will be done. Note; His will be done – whatever that looks like. Let His love lead you through the night and let his magnificent hope drench you with life, vision and dedication to your breakthrough and someone else’s glimmer of hope.

Home.

Thu, 19 Jan 2012 13:54:00 +0000

In the acknowledgement of beautiful defeat we find ourselves in the embrace of our gracious and loving King. in that place; freedom and belonging are found.

Reflections + Reactions

Thu, 08 Dec 2011 14:38:00 +0000

Driving after being awake for 24 hours probably isn’t the wisest decision I’ve made. In short, I blissfully and dangerously ignored the fact that I was driving and fell fast asleep.

It’s a metaphor though, isn’t it? How often do we do this in life.
It’s a fact.
When we’re faced with the ugly, the painful or the worry, we drift asleep. We ignore and we do our best to place it in that space in the back of our minds where it can marinate and dwell, waiting patiently for us to acknowledge it again.

Recently I’ve been thinking about grace, what it looks like and how it feels and how we access it and how we should run with the reckless love which Jesus so freely offers, making our magnificent hurts seem somewhat drenched in hope.

I know that dealing with those cruel situations in life can be so hard, and that’s ok. Feeling weak or feeling lost shows strength, it takes an acknowledgement of beautiful defeat to allow ourselves to move in Christ’s strength.
Again, not the easiest of things to do, but it’s so worth it.

I woke up to my car spinning into traffic lights, airbags already inflated and two wheels completely flattened. It was so scary to see what a mess I’d created though letting myself get to that point. Looking back on it though, I faced it, dealt with the consequences and have moved on stronger than before knowing and not letting myself even get to that point again.
Facing that broken situation leads you to a stronger position of faith hope and love. But ultimately know that you are covered in grace and covered in a beautiful and dignified strength which can conquer all.

Siblings.

Tue, 29 Nov 2011 14:56:17 +0000

Chalk and cheese?
I guess you could call it that. He was smarter than me, I was louder. He was the thinker and the analyst where I was the impulsive actress.
Carelessly and selfishly I would stroll into his bedroom and ask if we could get the Lego and play. Patiently he humoured me and fantasised about a plastic square town which we built together.
He went to college and I went to school, both of us too dignified and admittedly insecure to acknowledge the multicoloured plastic days would whisk us away and capture our imagination.
But how I missed it.
How I missed developing and creating something which my brother and I would admire.

A common interest?
I guess you could say that.
He was dynamic and I was sporadic. He would analyse the moment and I would capture it there and then.
Photography healed the days where my brother and I grew apart. Instead of creating and developing a plastic world, we now capture a very real ever changing world through our digital SLR cameras.

I never solely or wholly believed that one day we would have that delicate bond back but, best friends?
I guess you could call it that.

Love over Fear

Thu, 27 Oct 2011 17:14:00 +0100

Wall Street stands firm, confident in her ability to make money seem beautiful. But doesn’t beauty lye in the eye of the beholder?
I stood on Wall Street staring at the new Tiffany shop which compelled her customers to admire and adore her fabulous, expensive and outrageous diamonds.

Across the road were protesters with signs “fear Wall Street not us”. They were passionately furious with the drive that Wall Street’s love of money, which she pushes to make the world go around.
Liberty Street is stood tall next to Wall Street. What at oxymoron. Liberty stands for freedom, hope and a new life, yet due to the demand which Wall Street ignorantly brings, the protesters fight for that freedom which blissfully hovers somewhere slightly forgotten.
Liberty Street has compassion on her guests, welcoming them and encouraging them to make their voice known.

Seeing this gave me an insight. I was standing between Liberty and Tiffany; neither beautiful but rather desperate.
If beauty is in the eye of the beholder then I am challenged to expose my eyes to the truly beautiful treasures of the world which pass me by so easily no fault of their own. I want to expose my eyes to helping those in need, to the lost, the broken and the abandoned. Whether right or wrong, Liberty Street made herself a home for the people who needed a reminder that freedom, hope and a new life is very real and can be experienced. I want to do the same.

Manhattan

Wed, 28 Sep 2011 09:31:00 +0100

I landed in New York at 2:30, local time. It’s ever changing surface remained consistent but it’s posture hadn’t changed, no. Manhattan is phased by nothing, she stands tall and proud, welcoming her visitors, her tourists and her close friends with a dignified “hello”.
Home? I don’t know, does home belong in Manhattan for anyone? Even people who are born in the city seem to be tourists, always discovering something hidden and curious.

Even when it rains in Manhattan it is a well constructed, organised set on one of her many scenes - a backdrop of drama and emotion. Manhattan is phased by nothing and no one is phased by Manhattan. The characters who reside there, demonstrating or preaching, advertising or buying, it’s all expected and accepted.

As quickly as the city was to greet me, it’s just as quick to let me go, remains unchanged and yet again not phased. I am another visitor to her, another tourist, nameless and shameless to her. I abused her with my photography and walked all over her streets and avenues and in return she is dignified and ready for the new set of city craving friends to arrive in the airports to admire and adore her. But I leave changed. I leave with memories of a week where I had the luxury of calling Manhattan my home and as my memories fade, replaced by new ones, my breif time in the city will be mine always and I thank Manhattan for that.

What’s The Story?

Wed, 28 Sep 2011 09:17:00 +0100

What’s The Story?

joelzimmer: I Remember You From The I know this feeling.

Sat, 13 Aug 2011 01:09:31 +0100

joelzimmer:

I Remember You From The

I know this feeling.

Pursuits and Prayers

Fri, 12 Aug 2011 12:21:00 +0100

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet”.

- William Shakespear

Situations, whatever you call them, in whatever way you look at them; however you feel about them, the facts will always prevail to dominate the word you call it.

The word I call my situation at the moment is “mess”. A mess or freedom? What is freedom? Is it the ability to do as you please or is it the sense of peace knowing where you’re at in life makes you feel alive?
I, personally, have got these two words very confused. Decisions, responsibilities and the pursuit of finding hope led me to a strange place that I got mistaken for freedom. I was shocked when I read the dictionary definition of ‘freedom’ is a noun. Shouldn’t it be a verb? Shouldn’t it be something we do, something we actively search for, experience, embrace and feel? I think so.

Freedom is a state of mind, freedom is the content knowledge that you are in the right place at the right time.
Freedom shouldn’t be used as an excuse to be reckless or recklessly disregard how other people will feel about the decisions you make.

St Augustine said “Love God and do as you please”. When I first read this my initial reaction took me to a dangerous place. My interpretation of the quote took me to a place where I thought selfishly, “as long as I’m happy I will be fine”.
Incorrect thinking.
That’s not what St Augustine is getting at. It means love God. If you love someone you would do anything to please that person, to get their attention, to honour and respect that person. If you love God the efforts of ‘doing as you please’ should reflect that.

A mess. Yes you can call it that. I don’t know. I wrote a blog a while ago on an extractor fan. It was a broken fan in the house and I would ignore it and wait for someone else to fix it. Pretty much the story of my life it may seem.

Situations, circumstances, which we find ourselves positioned by, shouldn’t be ones that define us but they should be a gentlemen, a door man to us, ushering us to make the right decision.

What do you call your situation at the moment? What’s your word? Does it define you? Is it mixed up with another word? Have you confused your word with another one? If so, it’s ok. There is never a situation which cannot be fixed and there is never a person who cannot be forgiven.

I stopped writing for a long time because I stopped believing in myself. Let me encourage you to pursue what makes you feel alive. Pick up your pen and write again. If it truly brings you freedom, it is worth the pursuit.

Christmas Market just off Columbus Circle, NY. A bunch of...

Fri, 17 Jun 2011 10:13:00 +0100

Christmas Market just off Columbus Circle, NY.
A bunch of encouraging words on string. Sometimes we just need to be uplifted.