Ebenezer – One Year On

How does one week turn into one year?



I don’t know, but it has. I remember that day as though it was yesterday, I remember the few days leading up to it. Oh the turmoil, do I go, do I stay. And then a month later, where do I go next? Oh how my heart raced, my stomach churned, my mind ran, my eyes wept. My whole body and soul shook as I tried to be still, listen, and discern what it was my Father wanted me to to, and then to summon the courage to do it.


Oh those two days, separated by a month. Those two decisions, some of the hardest I’ve had to make. Read about it here.*


A year ago today I was evacuated from my home, I flew away from my friends, family, job, home, life. I flew into nothing, a country I barely knew, to a sea of strangers, to a hotel, no home, to hospitals and doctors and a whole world I had never entered into before in my life. It would only be a week I was told… it was what I had clung to when I had to choose to allow them to take me out.


A month later I was being flown out again, only I wasn’t returning to everything I knew. I was moving on again, to nothing, to more doctors and hospitals. I had wonderful friends and familiar faces waiting to greet me, but the other faces, familiar as they were, were distant memories from years past, a person I used to be knew who they used to be, but those characters they had changed and no-one really knew each other any more.


Time passed and as it did, and as it dragged, I felt betrayed, I didn’t understand. I wrote about it here.



Now one year on, I can hardly believe the journey I’ve been on. I can hardly believe I am STILL here, in this country, in this place. It feels like just another day on this long and uncertain journey. Still unknowing where I’m headed, when I’m headed. Still not really knowing what this is all about. Just another day trusting, and living. Yet it seems wrong to not mark this day. To not set up an alter at this one year anniversary and say the journey has been long, the journey had been hard, but God has been faithful, and God is still good, and God is still God.


Yes it is true, this year has not been pretty. I have wept more than I care to think about. I have grieved in ways I did not know it was possible to grieve. I have felt darkness that I did not know existed. I have despaired, I have been ready to give up on it all. I have doubted, I have been angry, I have lost trust, I have been oh so unfaithful. All of me in the past year has been ugly, weak, disgusting. But God, God has been beautiful, faithful, redeeming, strong.


God has always provided in every way. My father, he has loved me in all my ugliness and in all my unfaithfulness. My saviour, he has saved me from despair, he has picked me up when I’ve fallen, He has helped me hold on when I was ready to let go. My God has turned up every single time when I thought I couldn’t take one more step.


My God, has been God. He has been in control, He has had a purpose, and He has taught me, and He has walked with me,and He has carried me.



So on this day, this one year on, I want to mark this place, set up my Ebenezer, built and alter, and say My God He is good, and He is faithful. He has been my help, my hope, my lifeline, my only purpose for waking and breathing. I have no words, simply a thank you that bursts from my heart for all He has done.


* Photo Credit : The Creative Spirit


Why Trade?


I was walking one of my usual walks, across the fields, through the woods, down the paths, and around the lanes. The beauty around never stops amazing me, and as I heard the birds singing in the trees, and watched the sheep munching on the grass I stopped for a moment to look around me. I felt the sunshine, breathed in the clean country air, and took in the rolling hills with their farm animals and wildlife, and the quintessential English buildings on the horizon. As I paused to enjoy this moment a question a friend once asked came back to me:


“Why would you give this up? Why would you trade this for there?”

Read the rest of this entry »

I Confess

I am writing to confess to you that I have been wrong.

I write asking for God’s forgiveness, and hoping that you will see past my self to a God, a saviour, a conqueror who is so great, so mighty, so wonderful.


I have written much lately out of my own hurt and pain.
I have taken my gaze off Him who is worthy.
I have refused to let myself be comforted by the comforter.


I have spoken out and spread doubt,fear, and pain.


Let me now speak out to you love, rescue, worthiness.


My God never leaves my side, He never stops fighting for me, never stops running after me, never stops pursuing me.
My saviour, Jesus Christ, loves me so dearly, he longs for me so deeply, that he risked it all for me. He came as a tiny vulnerable baby, risking all he had, and in the end sacrificing it all, for me, to have a relationship me.
My God, creator God, saviour, father, has it all. All of this, it’s all his, he shares it with us, and he longs for us, and will never stop fighting for us. We are merely a creation by him, a receiver of his promises, just one person in the canvas of eternity. He is so worthy, so able. Yet he chooses us, which makes him more worthy, he sacrifices, he allows himself to hurt, so we might be healed. I am so selfish to question if it is worth it, to question what gain I get. It’s not about me, it never was, it’s about Him, and He is so worthy.
My God, Holy Spirit, he comforts me, rescues me from despair. Even though He has no need to justify our suffering, and even though he is worthy of it, he still comes and rescues us, he still comes and takes our hand and walks with us with his arm around us through the sacrifice, through the pain, through the hurt. He rescues us.
And when I shrug his arm off He stands there still, walking next to us still, he carries on fighting for us, carries on trying to take my hand, carries on whispering my name.


I have been wrong to spread doubt and frustration. Forgive me.


I am so thankful for grace, and so overwhelmed by my saviour’s willingness to save me time and time again.