Invigorating Incense.

You've Got The Love - Florence + The Machine

Sometimes I feel like throwing my hands up in the air
I know I can count on You
Sometimes I feel like saying:
"Lord I just don't care,"
But You've got the love I need to see me through

Sometimes it seems that the going is just too rough
And things go wrong no matter what I do
Now and then it seems that life is just too much
But you've got the love I need to see me through

When food is gone you are my daily meal
When friends are gone I know my Saviour's love is real
Your love is real

You've got the love

Time after time I think "Oh Lord what's the use?"
Time after time I think it's just no good
Sooner or later in life, the things you love you loose
But you got the love I need to see me through

You got the love

---
Sharing music ♥!

LOL, Sarah.

Alleviated Assent.

It's little things that I remember, and thus it's also the little things that hurt.

To remember the thinly veiled insults exchanged behind eloquent words and fine phrases; the passionate singing along to such sweet music from the top of our lungs; the witty, and sometimes sarcastic jokes shared and understood only by us; how we dared not embrace, and yet somehow I feel that we knew just how much we meant to each other...

I remember your laugh, and vaguely, yet quite distinctly, the sound of your voice as you sung for me for the first time ever in front of an audience of two; at least you still have one of that audience, huh? And I'm glad it's one of the people I trust most, because I know that you're still in good hands.

And so we tackled the first hurdle, head first... we both got hurt, I suppose, but we recovered quickly and ran side-by-side for a while longer... or for as long as one of us could last. But I just couldn't keep up with you over the next hurdle; I was knocked down, and you just had to leave me behind, because I slowed you down enough already.

It was an awkward goodbye... surely I'd see you down the track, but we had our own journeys now. Our paths ended then and there on that one hurdle that tripped me over, and I just could not run with you any longer.

But I'm thankful that you didn't slow down, and that you didn't try to ease the pain that I'd consequently felt from this. I'm thankful that we grew apart. Because now you really can move on, with no hindrances, with nothing that holds you back. You're running the race, and you can run it with all your might now, and with complete concentration. Your next hurdles may be higher, but you've got no one pulling you down when you attempt to jump over it.

As for me, I'm so much stronger that I've ever been. The pain singed at me for a while, a long while, I'll admit, but because I wasn't strong enough. But now I'm just thankful that you were there to run that race with me. And when the road got thinner, and the path got steeper, I can only conclude that this was the best decision we've made. The race that you're running just isn't mine to run, and neither is my race yours.

I'm a little sad, but my heart abounds in joy and in peace - because I know that you're making your ways well. I too, am doing so, and if you wanted to know, I'm doing great. I really am. I've learnt a lot from you, and I just wanted to say how great it was to have you as one of my best friends, even if it was only for a little while.

Thank you, friend. You've meant so much to me. Maybe you can't look at me the same, but I still hold you up with great respect and affection for you. I only wish for you the best from now on.

Lots Of Love,
Sarah.

Avant - Garde.

And so this is a very Merry Happy Birthday of exactly 2 years of my baby blog's existence.

So I thus present thee, of whom perhaps may be a many or a little, a long blog (:

*To be read whilst Everthing Is Beautiful - Starfield plays softly, but distinctly, in the background. (:

Today is a new day. Today is a good day. Why shouldn't it be? God has us physically, spiritually and mentally rested, preparing us for new places, new objects, new trials. Today must be good, for He made it, and He makes all things good, working everything together for the good of those who love Him.

Today is not the quarrel yesterday at recess, nor the hurt that followed during the day, nor was it last night's depression. Today, you have been healed. Or, if hurt still, you are undergoing a great recovery. Today is not yesterday's rushed morning, stressful afternoon and exhausted evening. We start anew today. We start having had enough rest. We start with the wakening of the senses to the chilly smell of a winter morning, the clinging of warmth from our blanket as we grasp it gingerly in our fingers. Inside, we have been massaged, relaxed, restored and renewed.

So, if God has done this inside our midst, on us- our souls and within our hearts, in our spirit and in our strength, should we not then be life? And by this, I mean truly alive, alight with brightness and eagerness for the events of today? For we are being renewed every day. Should we revert to old ways if we have been restored? Should we start old if we begin new?

We have been redeemed from yesterday's hold - yesterday's tantrums, hurts, and tribulations cannot cling onto what is today. They are old, and they dare not touch a new thing. When we wake, we do not have to think about old trauma, for it no longer binds us to its situation.

It is a new day! and a good day! We have been prepared for it- restored for it, renewed for it, and redeemed for it. Is this not something that delights our hearts? Do we not believe that our God does all this, and more? Nuggets of blessing throughout the day, fresh laughs, earnest smiles, sincere joy. New hardships to make us pray, reflect, and pray for change, so that in another new day, we are renewed again - and not with old strength, but instead we a moved from His strength to His next strength, where His strength is made perfect in our utmost weaknesses.

Is this not good news? Is there no reason to praise? It's a new day, a new dawn, a new life - for me, for you. And shall we not, then, feel good?

Of course, this is the day that the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it, for the Lord has made us in His own image, and He knows that His creation is good. He is glad in us, for He can live in us - and restore, renew and redeem us.

Praise God, who makes all things new - we are new creations! The old has gone! The New has begun!

- Taken directly from my devotionals journal from 22.07.2010
---
It is at these glowing moments where I feel so incredulously joyful.

It's as if I've walked out of my door to find the curtains drawn, and only the sun beams down on me, with the clouds even daring to recede. I close my eyes, and I enjoy the sunshine as he embraces me, stroking my cheeks with his rays of light, and warmly clasping at my hands as he eagerly fills the spaces between my fingers with his own in earnest affection and ardor.

And he leads me towards the front step of the porch; from there, a stone path invites me to step into the new season. Each stone is frilled with little bristles of dewy morning grass, each droplet on each leaflet bouncing bent light onto the stone - so much so that it burst with colour - surely even the stones were proclaiming the promise of this day!

I feel there is spring in my step, and daisies twirl from the traces of my footprints, and butterflies circle from beneath my feet. It's as if they are lifting me off the ground, and I begin to soar as I leap from stone to stone. The butterflies at my feet beat away at the mist so as to reveal the stones, joyfully glistening its true colours in the sun. I kneel on a particularly large stone, and suddenly, I hear music.

The birds, out of nowhere, perch onto a naked branch with but one budding leaf, chirping gleefully as if they all had a reason to sing. Their voices carry me along, dancing around the sun's rays, and encompassing me with impromtu rhythm and rhyme, and smiling as their melodies flow through my ears, and enter every corner of my heart, and I cannot help but to sing along with all that sings around me.

So, from my lips escape a chilly, yet refreshing kiss of wind, and out comes unrehearsed: a harmony that all but exemplifies the great twitter of the birds, the buzzing of excitement and expectation from the wings of a tiny bee as it hopes and expects to find great provisions even from a tiny budding flower, and the lullaby of the sun as it cradles me in its arms, uninterrupted by the soft coos of the winds that playfully tug at my hair.

And how my heart overflows with love and gratitude! How I am blessed to be embraced by the sun itself! And how my surroundings resonate with such beauty, and that I, little I, am able to sing along with the flora and fauna, and together celebrate a brand new opening of a new day.

---
And I really do feel that spring begins in my very next step. I have felt no joy greater than now - I in so much awe that my thinking is even childlike...

I cannot help myself. I must smile all the time. I must smile at every small thing, and I must capture life in its fleeting moments, for I know that everything - every infinitesimal thing - conveys beauty, and captures the essence of a Saviour whose faith is complete.

And I step into a new season, leaving the frosty bites of winter alone. I am embraced by warmth now, and I have everything to be thankful for.

---
And finally, it shall be that until one year from now, I have no intention of committing to any relationship closer than best friendship other than that between my God and I.

PTL, Sarah.
*This is entirely optional, but listen to the song anyway (:

Beautiful Promise.

There's so much we can do with words. We could dress up a naked word, and adorn it with decorations of imagery and twists of metaphors and analogies to appeal to every one of our senses. Our line of thought can be adjusted by what we read, we are positioned to like, hate, or be neutral about a subject. We can enhance, or take away from a subject of beauty, and we can create worlds, images, and dreams far beyond one's own imagination.

We can confuse, and we can confront.
We can entertain, and we can stir sympathy.

But we can't change hearts.

There's so much that we can say about our troubles, tribulations, and trials. There's so much complaining we could do, so much whinging and whining behaviour that can add to the surmounting pressure and stress that they provide with. We can go on forever, lamenting on our troubles, and always be depleted of any glimmer of hope, not even a rainbow of promise could lift our spirit.

We can compromise, and we can despair.
We can lament, and we can be blinded.

But we can see God.

But the one thing that is simple, the one thing that needs no words, is that God is greater. And God's glory will be revealed in us.

All it is really, is God. Not how cunning we are, how skillfully we play with our words, nor how moving we can be. Nor is it how hopeless we are, how punished we feel, and how deeply in a hole of depression we have fallen into.

It's about God. God makes things, and makes things beautiful by His mere word. It is His light, which He made, that streams down to give us hope in Him again. He put that rainbow in the sky; a promise given to us, to remind us that He is God. He is above all things. He is above the storm. His mere words silenced the storm, and He silences our storms, with a promise: that He is faithful, and He will do it. He will change our hearts.

This is flat.
This has no dressing of any kind.
This is God's work.
And these are God's words:

That He really is God, and that He is God above all things.

I really cannot say any more.

PTL, Sarah.

Effortless Extravagance.

The Greatness of our God - Hillsong

Please listen to at least 5 seconds (up to 26 if you will) of this song, because the first five seconds of this song unlocked from within me such an outpour of awe... As you can see here what follows this sentence... (:

---
It's just as if a butterfly flutters across the keys, gently hopping from one note to the other- it would do so with such delicacy and precision. Its mere touch was barely anything, but somehow more than enough, for just as it lands, it takes off again. The butterfly, so elegantly poised, rises from its first residence, still ringing of cherished beauty, towards its neighbouring residence for another ounce of resounded prettiness to be left there too.

Then, it waits.

First, with a single - quick, but unrushed- stretch of its wings, outwards first to ever so humbly reveal the stunning beauty adorned upon the unknowing butterfly's wings; and then restored to their former, closed position, as if the little darling knew to be modest- that You could only ever catch a glimpse of beauty, but you could not nor should ever bathe in its splendour for too long...

And then again, it nimbly leaps into the air, enjoying the stretch of its arched wings, as well as the freedom in which it could move, all the while leaving a trill of inspired awe in its wake as it fluttered away, perfect and pure.

How 'free' every movement of this butterfly seemed! And yet, it was so precise- it seemed to be made to exact beauty in all its splendour and glory- and yet there is that ever present modesty and humble stature that resides from within, because it just knows this: that it is not beautiful because the lovely being wanted to be, but instead because its loving Creator wanted it to be.

So as this meek, little butterfly flutters so daintily away, we are left with so much more than its extravagance, its pleasant beauty and the ring of pleasant music that follows it, but so much more of the wonder of its creator, who made it so perfectly, so that it illuminates His spirit of excellence in its entirety, even in what it leaves behind.

*PTL, Sarah.

*Praise The Lord; and also a substitute for a while, as long as my blogs remain, to me, glorifying to God.

Harmonious Hustling.

"Don't look outside of the boat!" Your voice was raised so high, trying to gather my full attention. The rapids were moving ever faster now, and I could barely see any hope of our survival.

Waters splashed heavily into the boat, and drenched me entirely. Rocks seemed to spit out from the hungry rapids, and it was as if the rapids were taunting us; the rocks were bones from its last victim, and we would be their next. The ferocious waves snarled and snapped at us from the exterior of the boat, and drooled all over us with its rushing water as it pounded into the sides of the boat. I shook violently in fear and anxiety... How could we make it? How could we make this, when so many other people have died trying?

I lent towards the end of the boat, and all I could see were these majestic waves smashing against rocks of every size, each with significantly sharp, jagged edges. The moment I looked over the side, the boat too, was thrown aside into the point of a particularly jagged rock, and bits of wood from the boat was shattered into pieces; the bits flew everywhere, partly cutting me, and partly cutting you also.

"Stop moving!" you said, but I was flailing hopelessly at the tremendous odds against us in surviving these rapids. You were steering the boat, I know, but they said even the most experienced sailors had difficulties in the rapids. I tried to close my eyes, but as soon as I did, I lost my balance, and I was thrown from side to side; the boat rocked more violently than ever, and I could barely pick myself up when I heard your voice again.

"Look at me! Please, just focus on me!" Your voice was still raised, and strained… not out of anger, but out of desperation. You wanted to see this through even more than I did. And suddenly, there was an ounce of hope that I heard from within your voice, and I turned to you in an instant.

"Just watch me..." Your voice trailed off as you continued to work at the oars, moving so sharply, yet so fluidly to keep the boat in balance. I could do nothing, of course, because you were the driver, but I watched as you began to rock in sync with the boat, and with the rapids, swiftly moving your oars back and forth to manoeuvre the boat around the larger rocks.

I set my eyes on you, and I concentrated on watching you move and sway about. All of a sudden, you did not look frantic or panicky as you controlled the boat; instead, you looked rested, in control, and full of hope for our survival. Soon, I my body was guided by your movements; I swayed as you swayed, leaned as you leaned.

"Brace yourself," you muttered, but I already knew that you wanted me to, and I ducked as you ducked, stead-fastedly holding to the sides of the boat as the rapids continued to spit rocks and shattered wood at us. I squinted as flying objects were thrown in our direction, cutting and biting into our skin; I winced at the pain, but I refused to take my eyes off you. Somehow, I knew that if I just obeyed your commands, I would see the end with more than just my skin on... but that I will have learnt to fully trust in you, because you know what you are doing, where you are going, with my safety as your topmost priority.

---

Does this not seem to paint a picture of our sailor, who tries to guide us, and show us the way in rocky streams, and rushing rapids?

PTL, Sarah.

The Delicate Equilibrium.

I have a strange habit of only posting memoirs which are permeated with such strong levels of intensity; of obscure pain or sorrow, or of such refined happiness and joy that deserves no veil in front of it as its light breaks through the lines of black ink, and radiates its vibrant warmth from the led lighted screen. And as these waves leap from the screen, flooding into the chest -sometimes warming and calm, sometimes frigid and icy waters - they lap against solid hearts, finding small entrances into its tender secrets within.

In any movement of these currents, I could only hope the hearts consumed within it are moved along with it. However, the intensities of the overflow of my heart haven't been what I long my readers to be swept along with. The currents go deeper into colder, more mysterious, painfully bitter depths, and I long to change the direction in which these currents flow.

Perhaps my life is made from ocean trenches, and I am unable to channel these currents any other way, but the least I could do probably is to - yes, cast my readers into this flow of words - but not in biting, chilly tidal motions, but instead into a stream of warmth, which rushes them to the surface quicker, where the sun's rays may catch them, and hug them in its embrace.

So I've decided. If there is any lingering emotional imbalance, where sorrow far outweighs joy in a blog, I hope to restrain it, and instead pour in an extra flow of fervour to restore this emotional imbalance to its original state. I know in our humanity that we have a naturally great outpour of sorrow, and so little natural exuberance.

But thank God for the sun to warm our cooled currents. Thank God for His son to flood us with His love, hope and joy, so that we, in turn may illuminate His light to the coldest of hearts.

I cannot promise, but I hope to turn this leaf over, and let its wilted ends be revitalised once again in the same way I walk with edges that no longer wilt in its circumstance, but brim with the light that is my sustenance.

LOL, Sarah.

Hybrid Sentiments.

You know what?

I'm alright with being replaced. Because first of all, being a friend of mine is no small feat. It's hard to be my friend. I don't mean that in a cocky, arrogant way; I mean if you make friends with me, it's usually tough to stay friends with me. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, but it can't be your fault, seeing as so many people in the past have left me before in similar circumstances anyway.

I don't blame you at all. In fact, I want to congratulate you. It's probably a bad idea to have become my friend in the first place. All you'd be in for is a spark, a glimpse of some artificial warmth, for example, which embraces you and comforts you almost immediately; but then after a few moment's use - because it's not manufactured to last - soon enough, it'll explode right in your hands. You'll find no use for it in the long run. All that it'd leave you is with a slight burn on your palms, and a lingering thought ebbing away at your mind saying what a stupid idea it was to ever buy some cheapo "instant-warmth" device.

Don't think that I don't know it. I don't know why it happens, but it happens. It's almost inevitable. But the way you show off your new "insta-warmth" device right in front of me is punishing. There I lie, broken and filled with glitches. and you just dangle it in front of me, still prettied up in its case, and glinting in the light because you polish it. You cherish that device, because it works, of course.

But that never meant that I never tried to work for you. I did, and I still do. Yet you brush off any sign of warmth from me, because it's too much when it's teamed up with another. You only need one, and you haven't bothered to recover what was broken.

I shouldn't complain, because I'm a faulty device anyway. But has anyone tried to fix me after I've blown up in their hands? Has anyone bothered to think that maybe my glitches aren't unrepairable? I'm sorry to suddenly be all needy, but I'm actually trying to make it work. You aren't. Don't be a hypocrite about it.

Complaining about others not making it work for you is just not justifiable if you don't put in either. When I finally want a break, rest my damaged arms from this task, don't burn up against me and say that it's my fault that I'm broken. At least I try.

---
I'm writing this to a lot of people, and I'm sorry that it's one of my angriest blogs that I've ever posted in the 260ish posts already made.

On a lighter note, I learnt something really positive today - because I've been troubled with a lot of thoughts - friends who I wish could be closer, and impulses which, according to my morals, is as wrong as sin. But these temptations are just that: temptations that steer me away from having faith that God's got a brighter plan for me, a future that's so much better than that I could ever dream of. A best friend who will really love me and care for me, and whom I can truly fall in love with and call my husband. It makes this wait worth it... it makes this suffering worth it...

Even when it hurts most.

"What we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later." Romans 8:18 [NLT]

LOL, Sarah.