We Danced


In our high school athletics were very important. We all took phys. ed. Everything from volleyball to badminton, cross country and weight training. 2-3 to days a week you were sweating alongside your classmates, enjoying all the benefits of what sport brings. Every December, to take a break from the norm, our high school offered a different kind of phys. ed. It was such a tradition that we tried to get out of our other classes, just to partake in more than our weekly routine of physical activity.

Every December we danced.

We did everything from traditional Russian dancing (I seem to remember something about being horses?), to the Scottish ceilidh and country line dancing from the bottom parts of the south of the USA. We learned to waltz, polka, whatever we could learn, we did. Then, just before winter break we had a school wide dance.

That day was my favourite.

As much as I loved all the learning, the actual classes, especially when we had to partner up, were hard. You see, I was the tallest girl in my class, for a LONG time. Standing at more than the average 5’5″ (165.1cm) at 12 and combined with a severe lack of guys during my gym block, we often had to pair up with girls, so I had to take the lead. Or, I got paired up with a guy who was so afraid to lead (because we were what 13, 14,15 years old) that we either ended up doing nothing or looking foolish. So when we had the school wide dance, I actually got to dance with a guy, lead by a guy who knew what to do. I loved the moments of being lead.

It’s funny what we believe affects us later in life. From such an early age I already had to learn to lead my own life. Okay, so this is just one example of circumstances in my life which made me take control of my life. There are probably another five pieces I could write on other circumstances which shaped the woman I have become (for better or for worse), but this…this one sticks out.


I guess it’s because I am not a fan of feeling foolish. I mean, who is. Who wants to look a bit dumb or make a mistake in front of people. Not exactly a trait many of us carry. Dancing is far more than a physical act. It is a metaphor for life. We take steps to the left, to the right, we go backwards and forwards. We are spun inwards and outwards, lead by our partner in what, over a song becomes a story, it is a journey which makes up a beautiful narrative. When we try to lead (when we aren’t supposed to), then the dance gets mixed up. Two people cannot lead. There must always be someone who follows. Or, if the one who leads, isn’t stepping up and taking the lead the path is full of stumbles, not as elegant and getting out of the missteps takes more time. The story isn’t as a beautiful, as graceful. A lot like our relationship with God.

BUT, allow me to take detour for a moment. Just for the sake of a good metaphor.

Dancing is a lot like dating. The dance of romance. Say what you want of equality, the man should take the lead. It isn’t the equal division of tasks that makes dating and eventually marriage equal, it is the equitable and efficient division of resources. Like a dance, when we have true equality, when the man leads, when he writes the story and the woman, putting her trust in him, follows, a beautiful story is written. When both focus on the same goal (glorifying God) then the dance has a purpose and a focus.

Oh wait, much like dating, God is trying to romance us…funny how this is all working together…

Today when I go to take dance lessons I can find it difficult to let the guy lead. I have been trained to take the lead, mostly out of necessity and practicality. Recently I was taking salsa lessons with a few of my friends. There were a few men there and I found myself really loving dancing and getting into the groove of things. With two of the say five guys that were potential partners, I rested safely in their arms, dancing away until I was drenched in sweat. When it came time to change and I was put with a man who wasn’t secure, one who didn’t have my best interest at heart, who didn’t focus on leading, the dance was awkward and generally never properly complete. The guys that I could trust were who we can liken to God. Strong, understanding of the journey we are to take, foreknowledge of the ending and aware of the steps we need to take to get there.

The men who were insecure, who hadn’t read the steps, who weren’t comforted by experience are much like when we take the lead in our own lives…stumbling, blind and without hope.

There’s a song by Bethel Music. It’s called We Danced. It’s a ballad, a worshipful song of the dance between ourselves and God.

You steady me
Slow and sweet, we sway
Take the lead and I will follow
Finally ready now
To close my eyes and just believe
That You won’t lead me
Where You don’t go

When my faith gets tired
And my hope seems lost
You spin me round and round
And remind me of that song
The one You wrote for me
And we dance

The last few months, heck, few years, have been a struggle to say the least. A struggle by human eyes, but to God, a beautiful dance.

Like Joseph in Genesis, God has turned what was meant for evil in my life and made it for good. Instead of fighting the lead that God was taking in my life, I have learned, some days, some hours begrudgingly even, to allow Him to lead.

Praying to hear his voice. Asking for wisdom. Training myself to hear, to feel when the Holy Spirit is gently pulling on my heart to go one way or another, either physically or in a decision.

When my faith got tired, and when my hope seems lost (even today), I am in training to become one of the best dancers the world has seen. I am never going to be a ballerina on a world’s stage, or a hip hop dancer in a music video , but instead, I am going to dance my way, even through the missteps and the turns and twirls with the one who has always captivated my heart. With my Lord.

Jesus Christ (the Messiah) is [always] the same, yesterday, today, [yes] and forever (to the ages). Hebrews 13:8

Are not two [j]little sparrows sold for a penny? And yet not one of them will fall to the ground without your Father’s leave (consent) and notice. But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, then; you are of more value than many sparrows. Matthew 10:29-31

He invited you to dance, invited you to be part of a beautiful story, one that will be filled with less than desirable moments, but you will always know you’re safe, safe in the arms of your beloved.

In the Midst of the Waves

I thought about writing this when I had gotten the job, but then it made me think…

How many blogs, articles and books have been written once we have gotten whatever it is that we wanted?

How many times have you heard from your now loved-up, engaged or married friend that “oh, it was worth the wait” or “God totally had it under control”?

I am not saying that all of their good advice, consoling remarks or loving comments aren’t valid or true, but this time I am going to give thanks in the in between.

So here goes…but first, a side note (I do love side notes)

The funny thing about social media is that it isn’t reality. Or at the very least it isn’t the entire truth.

I choose to put online what I feel is most appropriate for the message I want to get across. My message affects my brand. As someone who does this for a living, I carefully cultivate what goes up or even sometimes comes down. I don’t believe in a personal and professional brand. I am me and I have guidelines about what I post. Nothing I have is private (except FB) and my audience includes everyone from friends, family, professional relationships and people who follow me because of my writing. I am constantly trying to keep a level of integrity in what I post, remembering that it might be my 13-year-old cousin or her friends seeing what I post or a future boss or client. Ultimately, I say this all, in this post because the last few weeks or months have looked a bit like a dream. And, I hope they did…because even in the darkest times I want my life, even on social media, to reflect the faith that I have and the thankful attitude I try my best to live with.


Back in April I was laid off. This is the kind of thing that happens when working at a start up, the risk you take.

Although I immediately felt saved (due to the difficult circumstances of my working environment) I was still laid off. Let me tell you. People can say you’re the best and that you’ve done an incredible job and you can even KNOW that this is true, and yet being laid off feels awful.

It feels like you’re being broken up with. You immediately want to go back through the past months figuring out what went wrong, where you could have saved yourself, knowing full well that it wouldn’t have mattered. I love what I do and also really function on the “having a lot to do makes me more productive” kind of level, therefore this wasn’t exactly a great thing for me. I have rarely ever been unemployed more than a few weeks, at most. Now, like the end of a relationship, I was faced with beginning again.

You know that moment when someone has told you that they no longer love you? That sinking feeling where all of the plans you have made in your head and heart, where all the expectations vanish faster than you ever dreamt them up?

All of this. All the time.

Except that this time it was different.

I felt all of this. All of the rejection. All the hurt and confusion.

But this time…this time instead of trying to fix it all, I just stopped. I stopped and handed it over to God.

Back in October, at Hillsong Conference, as I wept during this song…

And I will call upon Your name…And keep my eyes above the waves…When oceans rise…My soul will rest in Your embrace…For I am Yours and You are mine (Oceans, Hillsong)

…A gentle hand told me that God will always be my stronghold.

This time, when waves came crashing over me, I just stopped and let Him actually be my stronghold, my anchor.

Now, I am still in my ocean. Not only with work, in relationships, still single, still looking for my place in this world, but when it comes to work (my current highest need), even in my ocean, I see the light, I feel Jesus standing on the water, urging me to step out.

I have felt peace and I am rested.

I brought up social media because my Instagram account reads like a princess in a fairytale. Paris, London, Toronto, sun, friends…

It doesn’t show the days of sitting on my couch hunting and applying for the next role, or prepping for interviews on my holiday. It doesn’t show how even though I am at peace, God is using this time to heal me, to make me whole. It doesn’t show the tears and the frustrations.

What my Instagram account actually shows; what it demonstrates is His unfailing love, peace, provision and hope.
It shows that He gives me rest when I need it. He brings people to refresh me. He uses me to help others, even if I feel like I can’t help anyone.

When I sang… Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders. Let me walk upon the waters. Wherever You would call me, Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander. And my faith will be made stronger. In the presence of my Savior…deep down I admit it was still “lead me where I think you’re going to probably lead me, in my time”…

Well, my timing wasn’t right and I am still looking for a job and I know the timing and role will be perfect. But I can say this…

Even in the meantime…in the “and you will” *** stage of this season I have only ever felt His beautiful, unwavering peace.

***Keep on asking and it will be given you; keep on seeking and you will find; keep on knocking [reverently] and [the door] will be opened to you. Matt 7:7

When we know that our hope is in the one who is above all else, when our eyes truly stay fixed on an unmoving mark, the one who is never changing (Hebrews 13:8), and it takes a lot of practice (!!!!!), then that peace never leaves.

Why waste any energy on worrying? Stressing? Anxiety?

Sure, I want this season to end, but I love being in the right now. And I wasn’t always like this….

Thank God He has always had patience with me to get me here.





He Fights for Me


It was back in elementary/primary school when a boy tried to bully me.

According to my family I hit him in the stomach and told him he couldn’t do that.

Firm on the understanding of who(se) I was, I fought for myself.

As I have grown into an adult, as reasoning, circumstances and feelings began to shape my decisions more than fact (as is as a child), I found myself fighting for myself less and less, choosing rather to allow unreasonable behaviour of others to govern or affect my life.

Under the guise of “I choose my battles wisely” I found myself using that as an excuse to shrink away or not cause disruption so that I could continue in my comfort zone.

Side note: I will always choose my battles wisely. That will never leave my life, but as I do that, I cannot disregard myself in that choice. Choosing your battles wisely is about knowing when it is worth the fight, not when it might be uncomfortable to face something. This is wisdom. 

Here I was, an adult, allowing people to bully me, to disrespect me, to disregard my feelings and my heart, to be selfish with my love, to push me down so they could be higher, all because I didn’t want to fight.

I chose not to fight for many reasons. Maybe it was so that I could find a new job before I quit my last one, maybe it was because I loved my friend dearly and though her words hurt, the battle was too much for me to endure at that moment. Maybe it was because I couldn’t fight for my worth, I was too weak. Sometimes it was because being just his friend hurt less than losing him altogether or maybe it is still because I am just too tired of fighting for myself some days. Some days it is just too much…whatever the situation.

Lately I have been going through a new season. A season where, for many reasons, I have clung closer and closer to God. Some would think that this season was a “bad” one. Alas, it has not been bad or good. The last days have been filled with blessings, with pain, with adventure, with tight schedules and new promises. I cannot classify this season to any one adjective except that I call it my “closer” season.

And in this closer season, one where I have been able to find myself all the more close and in love with God I have been given a gift that money cannot buy.

In my drawing near, in HIS drawing near, I have seen how He has, does and always will fight for me.

In my desirable characteristics in a husband my top ten absolutely includes a man who will fight for me. He will be one who defends my virtue, pursues me with passion (even if the future isn’t simple), fights for our marriage and family on a daily basis. That’s what knight-in-shining-armour looks like to me.

However, in the last days, even though this still remains a character I desire only, until then, and then with, for the rest of my life, I will know, with quiet confidence that my Lord, my Father will always fight for me.

And with that in mind, I will always be able to rest.

Exodus 14:14 The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.

2 Chronicles 20:17  You will not have to fight this battle. Take up your positions; stand firm and see the deliverance the LORD will give you, Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Go out to face them tomorrow, and the LORD will be with you.

Deuteronomy 20:4 For the LORD your God is the one who goes with you to fight for you against your enemies to give you victory.

No, you cannot stay there and do nothing. Taking abuse, allowing someone to hurt you, whatever battle you need one, The Lord will fight for you. He gives you everything you need.

In one case He took me out of my job, one that, to everyone else looked amazing (and to most extent it was), but I was being torn down, bullied and taken advantage. I had made the decision to stay until I found something new, God had other plans, but gave me financial stability to get me to the next season. In other cases it was telling the people who hurt me that it was not right because I know that God loves me so much that whatever reaction they have to what I have to say, I will be okay.

God fighting for me means that I am protected. It means that I do not have to do things in my own strength, but with the power of the Holy Spirit behind me.

I have strength for all things in Christ Who empowers me [I am ready for anything and equal to anything through Him Who infuses inner strength into me; I am self-sufficient in Christ’s sufficiency]. Phil 4:13 AMP

And if the Spirit of Him Who raised up Jesus from the dead dwells in you, [then] He Who raised up Christ Jesus from the dead will also restore to life your mortal (short-lived, perishable) bodies through His Spirit Who dwells in you. Romans 8:11AMP

He fights for me and because of that I can be at rest, whether sleeping or awake.

For that I am thankful.

Paper Bag Princess Syndrome

Paper Bag Princess

One of my favourite books ever written is a children’s story.

The Paper Bag Princess still sits on my shelf today, waiting for one day when I have a daughter and I, or her father can read it to her as she falls into a gentle slumber.

For those of you who didn’t grow up in Canada with the infamous Robert Munsch to narrate your childhood, I will give you the quick recap.

Princess loves Prince. Evil dragon takes over the kingdom, burns it down and kidnaps Prince. Princess goes to rescue the prince, outsmarts and outwits the dragon, rescues Prince. They live happily ever after…not. Prince tries to fit Princess into stereotypical box and Princess tells Prince where to go.

Not your typical fairytale. I grew up loving it for all the right reasons. Be who you are. Be smart. Don’t let someone talk down to you. Do not allow someone who does not respect the woman you are to have even a bit of your heart. All good.

However, somewhere in between the bedtime stories and creeping into adulthood my motivations for loving this book have changed.

Somewhere in those years I have gone from someone who wants an equal relationship where we love and respect each other, to desiring the very same, but someone not allowing anyone to take care of me. I liked that the princess told the prince where to go because she couldn’t get hurt.

You see, though I have lived a blessed life, there are a couple of factors that have led to a place where allowing someone to take care of me is difficult.

Whatever societal or cultural conventions may say, I want to be chased…and to be taken care of.

Each relationship will look different in how this plays out, but often the desires are the same. I will take care of you, if you take care of me. Mutual love, respect and desire. No mothering or control. A love that desires the best for the other.

But I have a problem, a problem that I am working on and why I am writing about My Paper Bag Princess Syndrome.

It’s without knowing it that the scars of past relationships, absent fathers, circumstances, well-meaning friends, too much “good advice” and not enough leaning on the truth that has gotten me and many others to this same place.

It is easier in life to take care of ourselves than to allow someone in. It is what so many of us struggle with that has become what I think is an epidemic in society. Vulnerability.

The love we want, the good fights, the better making up, the having someone to share those awful moments, someone to help with the chores, to make you laugh when you just want to cry, all of that…

So easily disregarded because it takes vulnerability and one other thing…

Making room for someone else.

I have never had a problem making decisions for myself. I go to the movies when I want, I move countries when I want, I buy what I want, I give money to the charities I want, I do whatever it I need to do without asking anyone’s permission.

And yet, and I know it’s not just me, I would trade that to have the other…to allow someone in my life.

As I write this I hope that my intentions with this are not overlooked. This is not about wanting to get married or desperation…it’s about understanding something far more powerful.

It’s about a daily surrender to me. It’s about literal taking up the cross and remembering that despite all that has happened to me and all that will, that I have truth in my life. I have been rescued, given freedom from all that our broken world brings and in that I can be secure that, if it’s meant to be, I will be able to allow someone to take care of me here too. I will be able to drop my guard, at the right time, and all someone in.

No excuses. No victim mentality.

No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us. Romans 8:37

I am not my past, though I have to deal with it. I am not my circumstances, though they have to be lived through. I am a Child of God who’s value is worth more than rubies and that is enough.

A capable, intelligent, and virtuous woman—who is he who can find her? She is far more precious than jewels and her value is far above rubies or pearls. proverbs 31:10

A Question of Integrity

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When referring to a person, integrity is defined as having a quality of being honest or fair. It can also be seen as sticking to a moral code.

I have been thinking a lot about integrity lately.

One of my girlfriends and I are doing this rather intense work out and with it comes a lot and I mean, a lot of work. However, if we would spend the 6 days a week in the gym that we do and then go home, eat like we have the metabolisms of a 10 year old boy then we would be ruining the integrity of what we are doing. It would also mean that I was not committing to what I had promised myself. Saying I work out and then seeing no results would make me look rather foolish, no?

Integrity is a large part of all our lives. We only really have our integrity, our character. Money can come and go, our looks can fade, our charm can wither if we are too tired or stressed, but our character is what everything is built on. When I say I will do something I want the person I say that to to trust me.

There is a verse in James that has become one of my favourite: But above all [things], my brethren, do not swear, either by heaven or by earth or by any other oath; but let your yes be [a simple] yes, and your no be [a simple] no, so that you may not sin and fall under condemnation.

Integrity starts with understanding what you can give, what you have space for and what your priorities are.

When we understand our position and where we are coming from we can make decisions, promises and plans based on this starting point. To have integrity does not mean giving everything, but knowing what you can and cannot accomplish or do, particularly for someone else.

Additionally, this verse is part of a passage where we are forced to look at how we are treating others. Patience, humility and self-sacrifice are also described in this passage.

It makes me think that when we live lives of integrity all those things are among the characteristics that become part of who you in the practice of having integrity, in building character.

In order to have integrity a person must also be patient, treat others well, be humble and self-sacrificial.

It is so easy to say “sure I will get you in touch with this person” or “Yeah, we should do coffee sometime” and then promptly forget. We schedule plans and then make excuses or we start building a relationship with someone and then decide they are not enough of a priority to us and simply filter them out of our lives.

I love connecting people. It is part of who I am. I don’t charge for what I do, I just want to make sure everyone knows the people they need to know. However, it can be super easy to say “oh yeah, you should meet this person” and then when I get home from that party or networking event, want to take a nice hot bath rather than send that email.

What was my priority in that moment? The person or my own comfort?

When we decide that what we say will be what happens then integrity comes much easier.

Let’s challenge each other to live lives of integrity. Our character is really all we have. Once that is tarnished then fixing it is much more difficult to earn back.

To be Vulnerable

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It was 2012 and my break up was very fresh.

I was sat in a pub in Notting Hill Gate (one that still makes me flinch a little as I walk by on visits to my former home) with two beautiful friends of mine.

They were there to make sure I was distracted and were working hard at it. Sadly, even the thought of good beer and Sunday roast could not keep the gates of sadness locked and an outpouring of tears flooded by Yorkshire Pudding.

I was humiliated.

You see, I was sat there, trying to work through all that had happened. Introspectively analysing me and what could have gone wrong in my relationship. I had to show that I was hurting, that I was in pain, that I was not okay. But in showing this the floodgates opened.

For me, expressing myself is one of my most vulnerable moments. Expressing myself is where I shine. I know that I have a gift for writing and other forms of communication. But with that gift comes the other side, comes a weight I guess. Because I can so passionately express myself, it also means that I pour out everything when I do.

Vulnerability, particularly when it comes to me and how I feel, is not my strong suit.

Don’t get me wrong, if I write a speech and stand up to present it, I am fine. I can jump up in front of a crowd of 10,000 and sing. Cool.

BUT if you ask me to be real with you one on one, or sing in front of 5 people there is a high chance I will cry. Cry or becoming emotionally over wrought.

I have yet to find an article, a journal, a scientific, logical reason for this, but it is fact.

My ability to pour out my heart on paper, in song, in words thrown out into the vast unknown  and be vulnerable, but not stand in front of someone and tell them I am in pain or that I like them is like taking me to an executioner is one of question.

Maybe it is because naturally I am what they call an outgoing introvert or maybe I am too sensitive. I just know that being vulnerable when it is something close to my heart is a struggle.

This was proven recently, twice actually when on two separate occasions, one in the Gap and one in a cafe, I cried when having to face conversations about subjects close to my heart.


These lovely moments where I am not actually sad, but, as they say “feeling all the feels” it is easier for me to cry, then to not do anything.

This isn’t actually about my inability to react to any highly-charged emotional moment without crying. It is about the process it has taken to be okay with being vulnerable.

The fact is that I know I will probably always respond the way I do. Yes, I work on breathing through the potential tears so as not to appear like I am 5, unprofessional or not altogether okay…but ultimately I know that my ability to feel the way I do makes me a better me, a better friend, lover, daughter, cousin and even employee.

Being vulnerable has enabled me to be a freer person. I have gotten more jobs, stood up for myself, inspired others, gotten a few dates (and being dumped), let others done better, reached greater levels emotionally, gotten closer to God, to my friends, to my family.

I have even learned more about others through this process.

I would hasten to say that most people struggle in some way with vulnerability and deal with it differently. I could shut down and become emotionally stunted. Instead I cry. oh fabulous.

Some people hide their vulnerability in alcohol, in meaningless sex, in keeping people at a distance.

Websters Dictionary defines vulnerability as the capability of being physically or emotionally wounded.

The fact is many things have the possibility to hurt you. In your life it is inevitable you will feel pain.

Getting into the right relationship takes a great risk because you’re both human and could hurt the other. So, instead we bounce from person to person and when we meet the one with whom are heart connects we try and keep them at a distance so as not to face the fact that maybe things are getting a bit real and we need to change and let someone in.

Or maybe it could be something as simple as not wanting to go back to the gym because one day someone teased you back in high school how you were uncoordinated. Or maybe that you tried to ride a bike, someone let go and you fell off and now don’t want to get back on again.

The more I think about it, the more I realise that vulnerability affects all facets of our lives.

What I have learned is that in order to be more vulnerable I have to learn to trust others more. To trust them with my heart, my emotions, my general well being. When we allow ourselves a position of vulnerability we are not allowing someone power over us, instead we are inviting them to be vulnerable themselves and giving them permission to be open. We humble ourselves so that in return they will humble themselves. It is servanthood.

Sure, people still suck. We’re human. You could still get hurt. But what if you just opened up. Maybe you would learn more about yourself and the person sat in front of you.

Maybe your moment of vulnerability would impact a hundred thousand lives.

A Restored Heart

image1 (6)It was only a few weeks, maybe two months into my life in Sweden when my dear friend, who lives in New Zealand, insisted on Skyping with me.

My move to Sweden, whilst actually much more carefully planned and thought out than many on the outside knew, came as a surprise to most. One friend even asked me if I was running away.

Looking back now, exactly three years after I applied to do my MSc here and uproot my life of seven years in London, the move to a country where I had no knowledge of the language or any true tries, may have seemed a bit abrupt.

I had it all in London. A good job, amazing community, an all round lovely life. I was comfortable.

Unfortunately, in all my comfort, I was giving all that was broken in my life a place to hide. With routine and familiarity came a place to hide much that was tearing me up from the inside out. Like broken glass in a plastic bag.

Needless to say that Skype call came as a real awakening…

“Michelle, I feel like this your time to heal. This next season is about healing and it is not going to be comfortable. It WILL be painful”

oh, thanks.

The years prior to this had brought a momentous amount of rejection to my heart. Details of break ups, friendships torn apart, men in my life who should have been there for me, abandoned me. I had lost my step father when he was abruptly promoted to Heaven and a relationship or two torn from my life. Even church where was supposed to feel accepted and safe was all but filled with humans who were less than kind. It had been over a year of “go to sleep and wake up and life has changed monumentally”.

I was done.

Life was more than I could handle and yet that last year had been filled with so many amazingly good times that my logically minded brain would not let my broken and rejected heart feel that it was fair or reasonable to be sad.

It is genuinely a tumultuous season to be in.

Last night, as we celebrated the sacrifice that was paid over 2000 years ago, a sacrifice made so that my life could be whole, so I could be free, so that we all could live the lives we were meant to lead, loved and accepted, I was overcome by the overwhelming responsibility to tell a story of a girl.

The girl is me and she stands a different person than she was three years ago.

Looking back, my friend in New Zealand was right. This has been a season of healing. It has also been one of the most difficult three years of my entire life.

As a Christian, as someone raised in church, I also balance my intellectual side and my emotional side. I am clearly not the only one, but I am going to be blunt. I spend many a night struggling between wanting to give in to my human emotions of “this is not fair” and “this is not right” balancing it with the fact that the same power that raised Christ from the dead lives in me. I spend time balancing the argument of humanity vs grace. In a person who feels ALL the feels while still trying to make a logical explanation out of everything, I can be often at war with myself.

All the details of the past three years are not important. If you want them, we can have a cup of coffee or a Skype chat. This is not meant to be a post about how to fix a situation or make your life comparable to mine.

We all have our own struggles, our own personal reasons for needing a Saviour. The truth is, that ultimately we do all need a Saviour. It is only because of my relationship with God that all of me makes sense.

I was For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Psalm 139:13-14

It was only when I allowed, actually allow (because I still and always will have my moments) myself to forget that I was made perfectly and uniquely in EVERY way…that I find myself forgetting that the rejections of this world are never going to break me.

Throughout the months and months of pain, of tears when no one was looking, that healing took place.

I truly had to go through the fire in order to come out more whole than I had ever been.

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways,” says the Lord“For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways, And My thoughts than your thoughts. Is 55:8-9

It was only in the understanding of a love greater than I can comprehend, in the framework of hope that life made sense. Coming out of the other side it is easier to see the thread of love and compassion which brought healing.

I have gone from a rejected heart that sees fault in all others, sees herself as not enough, to a woman who again stands, a heart restored, not rejected, knowing that her full identity and reliance is firm in something much greater than herself. This is the freedom I find in Christ, freedom to be all of me, unapologetically, to face the world each day. Strong.

Dating in the age of Tinder

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I can recall the first time that I was asked on a date. I got off the phone with B and my father, of all people said, so “you’re going on a date, eh?”

I looked at him, befuddled at best, shocked because I had always been raised to spend time with guys as friends and so this just seemed like any other time.

My dad was right, I was wrong and the legacy that every one knows someone likes me before I do, has never ended. There have only been a minuscule amount of times in my life where a guy I have dated has been super clear on his intentions right from the beginning. Most of the time it’s guess work at best.

I suck at knowing when someone is interested in me. I am convinced that most people are in the same position. It is always easier to look into someone else’s situation and see the wooing, the longing, the interest. Our own insecurities usually blocking the signs and signals of our would-be wooer.

Dating is scary because we have to give up a bit of ourselves in order to get to know someone else. We ask ourselves if they’re really interested, polite or just looking for another friend.

You would think that the rise of dating/hook up apps and online dating sites would give way to the confusion. In some ways, yes, the confusion has dissipated. I swipe right, you swipe right, we match. oh wait, we unmatch? The opposite has actually happened. It has given rise to more choice, more lack of commitment and too many ways to get out. More ways to say “…oh that was not a date, we’re just friends.” All the ways to contact each other has only given us more options to avoid actually saying “hey, I like you” to that one person we have actually had our eye on.

Dating is scary, allowing someone close is even more scary. Afraid they may not accept all of us, who we are, what we believe, what we want in life.

You know what?

That’s okay. No app or dating site can tell you the future. Mostly it just tells you how good of a selfie-taker a person is, or how much they say they love the gym.

Telling someone you like them and want to get to know them only opens a door, to a path…one that you may both want to get out of or maybe one that you will stay on forever.

Speaking for our generation, we need to stop wanting to know the end result before the experiment has begun. We need to stop trying to look through the peep hole before the door is opened. We need to remember that if we are open to getting to know someone, open to learning, open to being non-judgemental and self-sacrificial, then suddenly dating becomes less a risk and more of an adventure. We need to stop living for what other people may think of our dating choices, stop showing off every moment, go back to the letter writing, the secret moments, the ability to enjoy the really scrumptious, slightly terrifying moments before the first time you hold hands or kiss. We need to learn to build on solid ground rather than on empty promises and lack of integrity. We need to choose rather than react.

Maybe you will meet your next great romance in the boardroom, at a party, in an app or just through friends, but let’s start being less scared of getting hurt and more willing to decide that the simple of act of getting to know another human being better is enough of a reward in itself.

Dating is a time where we get to learn about each other, discover a person who has been raised differently, sometimes in a different land, see if being together is something that makes you both better.

We are all intriguing individuals, with stories, dreams, and adventures behind and before us. Dare to open the door (tell someone you’re interested) and see what adventure may be ahead.

She Stopped Living in Tomorrow and Started Living for Today

brick roadI got home last night after having traveled for more than 24 hours. Las Vegas to Los Angeles to London and home to Stockholm. In total I have been away from home more in the last two months than I have been here. I am not complaining, I love the life I have been given, but I could not help, when at 9:40pm I arrived at home to a messy flat, no food and a clogged drain that coming home would be a lot better if someone had been there to meet me. I allowed my mind to wonder what it would be like to walk through the doors of my home airport to find someone waiting with flowers or a stupid sign that says my name, not caring that I look like crap after traveling for so many hours and probably drool on my shirt from sleeping sitting up on a plane.

Then I snapped myself out of my little pity party and realised that at this time, if I had someone to come home to that I probably would not be living the life I currently am.

Then I saw this on Instagram.


I was originally going to write a post on balance today. That topic had been drifting in and out through my mind all day, but this seemed like just one of those signs.

I have had in the past tended to want to throw my life forward. Wherever I was, I wanted to be somewhere else. Single? Married. Canada? England. Working? school. Where was not always a physical place.

However, the past two to three years I have been learning a very important lesson. Just be.

It is often in the circumstances that God is shaping us to be who we are. Whether it is an emotional, spiritual, physical or mental transformation, we are, as humans, continually transforming and becoming the people we are supposed to be.

Right now I have the absolute privilege to be able to travel freely for work and pleasure, spend my money how I want, physically improve myself and invest my time, energy and money into other people how I choose. What I am able today is preparing myself for my future…and who knows who I may meet along the way.

I don’t know yet know what my future will look like. It could all change tomorrow. I do know that ultimately I want to do is honor God in all I do and be sure I am living the best life I can.

Do I do that every day and every hour? No, but it’s a journey.

When the Night was Total Darkness


I won’t lie, I still watch young adult TV all the time. For me, watching television and film are one of the few ways I can completely switch off my brain and relax. It is my often my escape.

I follow the TV show Switched At Birth and have since it’s pilot episode. It covers a lot of topics, in the messy way that real life happens and I enjoy it. Sure, it’s still television and therefore reality is often suspended, but nevertheless, it is as close to life as possible.

Yesterday I tried to watch the latest episode, which came with this warning:

Tonight’s episode contains story lines dealing with sexual consent. Viewer discretion advised.

I am 31, I can handle it. Right? Except, not…because there were triggers.

The episode revolved around Bay, one of the lead characters, waking up next to a man (she knew) without remembering anything from the evening before. Her memories came only in short flashbacks and understanding how she ended up where she was that morning. 10 minutes into the episode I had to stop.

You can read more about the episode and the issues covered here.

You see, it’s been almost 4 years so I did not think it would affect me.

In the Autumn of 2011 I was invited to a party. It was glamorous, rocking and filled completely with 99.9% people I did not know. The evening began fine. Partying with my “date”, a girlfriend I brought with me, meeting famous and semi-famous people and enjoying the crazy atmosphere.

It must have been around midnight when it all went blank and I woke up past 9am the next morning, in my bed, no phone, no clothes and no memory of the last 9 or so hours.

To this day I remember only flashes of that night. What I do recall and what still often haunts me is the day after. It was the darkness that enveloped my spirit and more clearly my mind. It was the fear of the unknown. It was the inability to recall little more than trying to get into a club, trying to take money out of the bank machine and standing with police. Everything I could remember felt like it was happening in one of those really bad dreams where you can’t wake up, but nothing is really clear either.

It was all that came out of that night’s events…the worry of maybe having been raped. To this day I still feel like I could vomit at the thought. Luckily, I was safe and nothing happened to me. I ended up speaking to the cab driver who got me home. I realised through that conversation that I had been drugged.

Me, the good girl. I had been drugged and it was my fault.

It was in the aftermath that I dealt feelings of guilt, moment of anxiety, fear and frustration. It took an already clear inability or fear of vulnerability to an entirely new level.

I am not writing frivolously, not for attention…I am writing to give a voice, or maybe to add a voice to the many out there that are scared to speak.

You may not have been drugged like me, but there is a day or night, a time of your life that was cast in darkness and you may still be struggling with the effects or how even to get out of it.

For me, it was first and foremost my faith in God that, through time, enabled me to work through the issues that arose from that night. What I am now grateful for is that all I went through enabled me to grow as a person. It was also those around me, who I trusted to tell (and not many know), who showed me who I was and how this was not a reflection of me. You are not your circumstances or that which has happened to you.

You, the person reading this, whose stomach is turning in knots right now, whose eyes are filled with tears. Tell someone. Talk. Know you are valuable and worth being treated as a human. You have the right to feel whole and free.

If you feel you can’t tell someone around you, tell me…you are valuable.