It's Halloween

one of my favourite holidays that I usually spend dressed in costumes with friends. But today I got to spend it with one of my (adopted) families on a magical island they love to visit, called Kythira.

On our expedition today, I saw many great things, most of which I cannot describe. I climbed the stairs to the church inside a cave where John began the writing of Revelation. I watched from the edge of a cliff, water made up of 3 shades of blue collapse against boulders that were so large, they protruded out of the sea. I walked across volcanic rocks and smelled wild thyme. I photographed bats in a cave and found a dried-up seahorse under a rock. I saw a sunken ship in the ocean.

Throughout all of this, though I spent it happy and laughing, something in my heart cried and cried; not out of sadness, I must tell you. But it ached because I was just getting to see one more side of the Creator of all of these places, my Protector. And it was making me fall more in love with Him. He is more fascinating than my mind can allow me to connect words with to write down in my journal. I end here.

Reconciliation - A WWII Bombing Of St. Michael's Cathedral

This is a short documentary I made while we were in England. Tell me how the concept of forgiveness like this effects you. It honestly just left me standing in the historical site in silence, my heart broken.

Further history: On November 14 1940, the city of Coventry, England was nearly destroyed by German bombers. 14th century St. Michael's cathedral died amongst all the fire.

On November 14 1990, The Queen Mother attended the Service of Remembrance and Reconciliation at the Cathedral's remains where she exchanged gifts with Richard von Weizsäcker, President of the Federal Republic of Germany, adding to Coventry's commitment to forgiveness and reconciliation.

My dream

Back in our cabin at the OM base in Roscommon, I opened my eyes to this morning.
Sleep broke and I woke up feeling empowered. It is likely that I even could have been smiling. I don't even start functioning in the mornings until several hours after awakening, so why would I wake up feeling empowered?

I had a dream last night. None of this I tell you is to sound fancy in writing or to be poetic, I tell you nothing but straight truth of what I woke up from. Apparently, in my dream I had posted a Facebook status relating to God and something He had been doing in me, and that affected everyone else on my friends list, who all began posting status about God and things He had been doing in them too, I assume. Then I found myself leading some sort of parade with these people on the streets in Oklahoma, for something related to promoting Christ and I presume, what He had done for us. I knew that I was dreaming by this time, but for some reason, in my head I told myself I needed to do this in reality when I go back home.

The next thing I found myself doing, was playing guitar for people and singing an actual song I had written in real life a while back. The song is about Darkness and Light and brings spiritual warfare to life a bit, presenting good and evil as if they were people, and characteristics I imagined they would have. All over, the song is about the Devil and God and how the Devil wants to battle and provoke, even though God has already won.
In the dream, as I played this song, the Darkness came to life and swept over me. It appeared as something similar to a shadow and it tried to battle with me because it was angry. It knew that God won in the end of the song. But in real life, as I lay sleeping in my bed in our cabin, I could feel my body being pressed against the mattress, my shoulders being held down; it was as if the Darkness had really swept over and was actually oppressing me. I remember knowing that it was trying to fight with me, but I wasn't afraid. I laid still in my bed, just smiling. I wrote that song. I know how it ends.

In the second verse it says,
"The Darkness said to the Light
'Here I make my way up Your staircase'
But the Light didn't need to hide
It grew, it glowed, it grinned with pride"

That's what I was doing. I remember laying still in my bed just glowing with pride because I knew that the Light of Christ is inside me. And that's just what He did in the song. Therefore, I wasn't afraid because it wasn't actually my battle.

During this trip, before going to sleep, I have been praying that God would be in my dreams. That I would dream about Heaven, or anything related to Him that was real so that I would wake up with Him on my mind.

Then in the end of my dream last night, I sang the last two lines of the song, the Darkness still oppressing me, both in my dream and in real life,
"I am not afraid!
Because Light always destroys the Dark."

The shadow in my dream disappeared. The invisible claws on my shoulders lifted. I woke up and smiled. God went to the level of giving me a dream so real that He used one of my own songs so show me I have power in the Blood. Then I pushed the covers off and got out of bed. I was humbled and empowered.
   

How can anyone argue the existence of our Creator

They must have to close their eyes at sunrise and sunset
and not look at anything else in between

Most of these photos were taken up by the north part of the Atlantic Ocean near Gort (Ireland). More posts coming soon...

The magical farmhouse in Lorrha

Two days ago, after doing some work at the OM base, we traveled to a nearby town called Lorrha, where Ruth and Paul had stayed once. We're staying for a few days in a coach house cottage that we like to call The Magical Farmhouse. It's owned by an Irish family that the Lovins met last time they were there--an elderly lady, Iris, and her son--both of whom are very kind, especially the adorable old lady who I want to hug a million times, with her cordial smile and her telling me she's named after the flower.

Our farmhouse is made of stone and was built in the 1800s. There are sheep (of course) and darling little burros here that will run up to you in the friendliest manner when you approach them. This is the prettiest place I have ever seen, and the most magical of Ireland I've seen so far.

This morning, I wandered out behind the apple tree to a little rock wall garden with a wooden bench, and I talked to God out loud for probably at least 30 minutes. It felt gorgeous to talk to Him that way in such a comely place. I should start out all my mornings that way. What better place to be than in communication with God.

This afternoon, we wandered through more ancient castle ruins. Tomorrow, Sarah and I will explore some ourselves and make up stories about them.
Another adventure awaits me readily on the morrow...

Here I sit on my first day in Ireland

by a campfire on the peak of evening. I sit with Sarah and Paul beside a Dutch man, listening to him talk about the Scriptures. I can't understand everything that he's saying because his mind is far too wise and his accent is so thick, but I see the Heavenly Father in him.

As he tells us about all the languages he learned in school, his 11 grandchildren he has now, and his favourite story in the Bible about Elisha, I see God's perfection. Everything is perfect. Regardless of any opinion I could have on a matter, it's all still perfect because God made it. I love the way He reveals Himself to me... through everything. He reveals His perfection over, and over, and over.

He makes all things new

I've never seen an elderly woman cry any other place than a funeral

until the other day during an outreach in Coventry when I shared Christ with her. I prayed with two elderly ladies and it was so touching. The one in particular that I had the chance to talk about Jesus with cried, and when we held hands and prayed together, she cried again and smiled as she looked at me saying, "Thank you." Later, I was told that she was one of the ones that was unable to come to church often. God, help Margarie to know You're with her.


Here is a photo of one of my new friends I made during the outreach. His name is George and he said he has a lot of girlfriends.

The following night, we did an outreach for young teens and kids and I was asked to speak to them. Afterward, a little 13-year-old boy came up to me and said, "You know whenever people are born? You know how at that time they're all given purposes by God? Well, I think your purpose is to come speak to kids like us... and you do a pretty good job of it. I like you already."

All 14 kids to wrote down their names and prayer requests in my prayer journal. One girl wrote, "Pray that I have something to thank God for like you. I want to be thankful like you."


Father, continue to move in me so that lives can be changed. Make there be less of me so there can be room for more of You. 

On the left side of the street

I discovered these magical places

London

Halesowen

Warwick

Coventry 

Carnforth

I heard about a young girl a long time ago

who was a photographer 
that was diagnosed with a serious case of Lupus and was not promised much time to live. 
Tomorrow, 
I will get on a plane with my photography mentor... and... friend 
and spend the next month photographing a ministry--




she still is suffering from Lupus,




yet somehow continues to live and live  v i b r a n t l y .




Ruth Lovin, your perseverance gives me hope

At 14 years old, I sat in a shoe store

before going to the doctor,
my eyes tearing up with handfuls of shoeboxes  s c a t t e r e d  a l l   a r o u n d   m e


as I tried to slide my impaired foot into shoe after shoe


My dream was to own and be able to walk in a pair of bright, red shiny stilettos
but I had permanent nerve damage in my leg and ankle that prevented me from lifting my right foot into a shoe.

I quickly wiped my eyes before anyone could tell I was crying,
and as I began to bandage my leg back up into my brace,
my mom
held my hand and told me that I'd be able to wear them someday


One day after having surgery, the doctors removed one of my casts
from my newly tender skin and left the room
for a moment.

The skin on my leg was so tender from surgery,
that it hurt for it to even touch the bed I was laying on
so my mom
came up and held my leg for me so that it wouldn't have to touch the bed.
She said,


"Susie,    if    we    make    it    through    this. . .

. . . I'll    buy    you    those    ultimate    shoes."


At 19 years old, I'm smiling
as I write this  journey  into my journal. . .


In my closet, directly behind me,
is a pair of bright red, shiny stilettos


Due to further physical complications, I can no longer wear them
but I keep the shoes


in reminder of the ultimate mother
I've had fighting this battle alongside me




Mom, your fighting spirit gives me hope