Easter Sunday

And this is our assurance,

guards were posted at a tomb,

religious leaders intervened,

every precaution was take to ensure that what was spoken never came to pass.

But no rock, 

no seal, 

no guard, 

no earthly  intervention

can supersede heavenly declaration,

nothing can stand in the way of resurrection power, 

NOTHING!

Happy Birthday son!

Happy Birthday son!

So proud of who you are and who your are becoming. Eighteen years went way too fast. Not sure how we got here, to this moment, but inevitably we did. You really do have to seize each moment and live it fully. You are good at that. You have faced life with fierce determination and every storm with quiet assurance. You measure every moment to the tiniest detail and the intricacies of life with thoughtful precision. There will be times when throwing caution to the wind will be expedient so you can fly by the seat of your pants. Just do it! The world is waiting for you to make your mark. Your future is bright. I love you to the moon and back.

So, get to it!
xx

A year of lasts

This week has been a mixed bag of emotions. We started another school year, which as a teacher of young children is always an exciting event. A lot of firsts ahead for all the little people starting their schooling journey this year. As a mother, I am entering a year of 'LASTS' and have found myself pausing longer than usual to take that little bit longer to connect with my last born who has entered the final year of his school journey. I think he thought I was crazy when I squished his seventeen year old cheeks with a lot of love on his first day back at school. Why do they think this expression of mother love is 'so embarrassing!'

It has crept up on me faster than I would have liked, I wish time would slow down! 

This year is the last year of formal schooling for my boy, my last year having a child around the home, my last year to squeeze in all of the things a busy school mum does. And, it is easy in the craziness of weekly life to miss the moments that truly matter. The matters of the heart and soul continue to need shaping, and the shaping of a teenage character still requires a-lot-of-work! True, it looks quite different ... a lot less chiselling and a whole lot of polishing ... and there are days where a bit of chipping might even occur (you know, that exasperation point when they think they know everything and your ideas are sooo antiquated!)

As we smooth out the rough edges of a teenager crossing over into manhood (with all of the antiquated foresight of someone who has been around longer than the dinosaurs), I must confess that I don't always get it right! Trying to find the balance between how I was raised and the times my teenager is living in are indeed a world apart, and I truly get that. I accept that I am old fashioned (who would have thought being born at the tail end of last century would come to this!) and am okay with it, well sometimes!

Yes, I still expect respect, chores and manners (especially at the dinner table and yes, I know that other families don't mind how their children eat ... and that slouching, chomping and grunting are all accepted forms of behaviour and that I am all alone on these issues, yadda yadda!!) 

I have to remind myself that there are bigger fish to fry and have to choose my battles wisely. I'm learning to stay firm on the critical issues and flexible on the minor issues. So there are times when I try to ignore the slouching and chomping and the monosyllabic responses (apparently it is actually a REAL phase, all this grunting is actually rather common so I'm led to believe ... poor boys, first their voices squeak when their manly voices begin to develop only to be taken over by guttural one word statements on the verge of manhood) all in the hope of connecting on a deeper level. I have been known to throw up my hands in desperation with the lack of articulate language coming forth, which I know lurks somewhere deep within my son. The monosyllabic replies of 'yep', 'ok', 'no', 'aha' can be irritating. If I'm to wade through the first load of grating grunting, I can be rewarded by occasional moments of brilliant sunshine! When that happens, I have to be careful to say little and really truly listen so that I don't miss the glorious glimpse of the the person he is becoming.

So, in this year of lasts, (who knows this might be my last year of butting heads, wouldn't that be nice!) I purpose to embrace my sons last year of being a teenage-boy-man-child with all the last-loving-of-boyhood 'mother love' that I can muster. See you on the other side.

Sony A5000

India ... A travel post with the Sony A5000

India is right up there on my list of places to visit again, hopefully sooner rather than later. The history and contrasts of this land are entirely fascinating, a mix of the old and new side by side. Delhi was a highlight and the weather was perfect for June, although we did expect it to be hotter at that time of year. We hired a guide to take us to the Connaught markets in Old Delhi which is highly recommended. This is a great place for bartering for those traditional Indian wares you want to take home as a momento of your trip. Having a guide also ensured that we received fair prices when bartering and was helpful when we wanted to extract ourselves from a deal when the prices were too high. The national Gandhi museum was not on our list of things to do but was a detour well worth the stop. 

The three hour rickshaw ride through Delhi's chaotic Chandni Chowk was a treat. This bazaar is the epicentre of the spice trade and the aromas that filled the air were truly intoxicating from the distinct smell of cardamon, cloves and vanilla beans to every spice under the sun. Row upon row of carefully heaped mounds of colour tantalised the senses. This is the time to close your eyes, inhale deeply and be swept up in the sensations of India, it doesn't get better than this. A.Kumar's tea and spices allowed us to stock up on all things deliciously Indian and satisfied my love of Chai. I am looking forward to my Cardamon, Ginger and Masala Chai. It should keep me going for awhile. This labyrinth of narrow back alley markets is crammed full of every conceivable ware imaginable, from colourful sequinned fabrics to dried fruits and aromatic spices. Electrical wires coil randomly and hang ominously, linking the buildings from one to the other and stretching as far as the eye can see. Food stalls are meshed in between wholesale merchants, selling sweet doughy treats and skewered meats. Dogs sprawl lazily in the dirt, shopkeepers shout above the din, wooden hand carts carrying blocks of ice squeeze down impossible lane ways, customers haggle loudly and the sound of motorcycle horns beeping incessantly can be heard everywhere. This is India at its best - colourful, noisy and vibrant. 

A visit to The Taj Mahal in Agra did not disappoint. We were lucky enough to do both the sunset and sunrise tours at the Taj so could take time with our photography. The sunrise tour was better by far with no queuing to get into the Taj and very few people about, although we did arrive just as light began streaking across the sky. Arriving this early made it easier to get the perfect shots without the throngs of people milling about. It also meant I was able to find a guide (which was nearly impossible at sunset the day before) who was able to show me the best angles of the Taj. He knew the perfect shots and after 40 years on the job was still very keen to run me all over the place. The stillness of the morning was breathtaking and truly magical.

 India, we hope to see you again.

The Taj Mahal, Agra

Spice markets, Delhi

Gandhi museum (where he lived and was shot)

New Delhi (India Gate)

Why I took my sixteen year old son to India

The teenage years are tumultuous (and that is an understatement). The pull of the world is intoxicating, a fast paced, smarter, brighter, richer world demands that our teenagers pay attention, and they do! Everything is at their finger tips. Life happens at the press of a button, it is instant and self focused. Instagram and Facebook ensure a false sense of identity develops deep in the teenage psyche. The lens of the technological age distorts what is truly important. When the eyes of the heart are filtered through a false reality, dissatisfaction sets up house in the soul. I want my son to see life differently, to live life through a different lens.

I sense the pull of adventure, know that it is this spirit that pulls him now into manhood. I watch my son pull away from all that he has known to stand purposefully on his own, in his own way. I feel his bid for freedom in the little things, in the challenge of an opinion or the questioning of beliefs. My mother heart slides between chastisement and encouragement, pushing him to see his own capabilities and the potential that is waiting out there for him. I want him to see a reality beyond iPhones and iPads, to see the real world, both it's beauty and it's pain. It is difficult to grasp when it has become all that you know. Face to screen time has consumed the life of our teenage children. I want my son to breach the borders of an ordinary life. 

Experience is the greatest teacher. 

I decided that experience should get to work!

Thank you Rwanda

Today is my last day in Rwanda. It has been an incredible journey of highs and lows. I have been inspired by old men travelling many hours on foot, a suitcase in hand to glean strategies for early childhood education at the conference we ran in the mountains of Muzansi. They count it a privilege to attend.

My heart hurts for my Compassion child who lives in a small mud hut, with no bed to sleep on. My excitement escaping me that day, heartbreak cutting deep. Sad realisations sinking in to reality. What do I do now? The responsibility of what I now know pulls hard on my heart and soul. We have so much to be thankful for, a hundred different things every day. 

I have been touched by the eagerness of a young woman to pursue a sponsor to attend university despite not having the means to do so herself. Her words touched me deeply as she told me how she wants to do just what I do. I realise what I have is a privilege, to be able to freely choose my path in life, to have the good fortune to teach others and get paid to do it. I prayed for her, tears spilling down her cheeks. There are no words to express hope waiting!

There are teachers here who are untrained, doing what they can, with what they have - with the little they have, just to fill a need. The littlest people of the earth need us all. How different the world would be if we all attended to the little things and did small things with great love? 

A gang of handcuffed convicts walking along the dusty road toward me, took me by surprise. The pink jumpsuits they were wearing identified them as perpetrators of the genocide. The guard directing them with his rifle poised upright, remained stiff lipped as they walked on by. Prisoners work in Rwanda, they give back to the community. 

The joy of children participating in simple activities is a sight to behold, no iPods, iPads or iPhones! The simplicity of little things brings great delight, kites flying high above clay homes - children shrieking, a spare tyre and a stick gathering the village children - everyone running. Imaginations grow here, determination too!

And then yesterday, I was moved to tears by the clapping and cheering at the close of the conference as our team gifted a CD of childhood songs to each teacher attending our conference. Their appreciation of such a simple but valued gift was incredibly moving, their smiles contagious despite my tears. 

I have been embraced by a resilient people that have shown me the beauty and greatness of the human spirit, and its incredible ability to forgive and grow again. The strength and dignity of such humble and hopeful people have altered me. Life is a beautiful gift.

Purpose has been worked out here in so many small moments, an open heart can do great things in a million tiny ways. 

I have expanded here.

Rwanda, you have changed me in unexpected ways. 

Murakoze cyane, thank you so much.