T Minus 3 Days...

I *think* I finally have everything organised. Flights are definitely confirmed; credit card sorted; phone unlocked; transfers organised; accommodation confirmed and conference itinerary arranged.

I am *pretty sure* I've packed everything I need. Most of that being supplies for the Allens in Zimbabwe (and I still have a couple to get - dry mark highlighters and christmas stickers, anyone?), and I'm getting better at being ruthless when it comes to the clothes I take with me (it might help that I'm planning to do a bit of a shop once I'm there).

I *know* that everything is organised for the time I'm away. The other half is staying here, so the house will be cleaned of all this insane dust that has infected every pore and the animals will be kept fed, watered and happy.

Yet, I still have one thing looming large in front of me that has me nervous.

The 2x long-haul flights coming my way.

As amusing as this will sound coming from someone who loves being halfway across the world - I don't do too well with long-haul flights. If someone could give me a nice shot of Ketamine over here which meant I knew nothing until I was taxiing into Cape Town - that would be great. Just sign me up for that, k?

Yes, I have a book. Yes, I have a journal. Yes I have the seat-back television screen. Yes, I even have my own iPhone, loaded with my favourite movies, books & even half a television series. But this doesn't quite solve the problem of being stuck in one place for 11 hours (well, 19 hours if you include the first flight to Singapore). I'm a bit of a closet claustrophobic (ha!), and nothing sets it off better than being in a tiny little economy seat.

WHERE. ARE. MY. DRUGS...

Genius here thought this time she wouldn't beg the doctors for Temazepam. Don't want them thinking they've got a druggie nurse on their hands. But right now, I'm kinda regretting not making that appointment and acquiring a prescription.

So yes, whilst I'm jumping out of my skin to get on those planes and back 'home' - can't God just fine tune teleportation and upskill me in that?

No joy without pain, Sasch... no joy without pain.

Panic Stations Are Go

Ever wanted to know how to get your blood pressure and heart rate through the roof?

Have someone tell you with only days to go that you aren't booked on the international flight you've been hanging out for for the ENTIRE year!!!

That was my morning.

I'm someone who likes to be organised. Some people might even say I have a bit of OCD when it comes to making sure everything is sorted and confirmed and on track.

So today, figured I'd do the right thing and confirm my flights to Cape Town (leaving Thursday). Sure, not many people actually do this, and it takes some time to try and do it - but, what the hey - couldn't hurt, right?

Well...

'I'm sorry, that passenger isn't booked for that flight. They were booked for the 24th but did not arrive'.

EXCUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSE me. WHAT THE HECK DID YOU JUST SAY?????

This is where Sasch starts panicking. You see, I booked these flights back in January, but in March got the travel agency to look into possibly changing my flights to a week earlier, as I was hoping to go stay with the Allens for a week in Zimbabwe. I told them to await my call before booking the changed flights, as I had to sort out my leave.

My extra week's leave was denied, so I'd told the travel agent to keep the flights 'as is', which I was told they did, and that was the end of it.

Or so I thought.

So with Sasch having a hysterical crying fit by this point (yes, I may be a touch melodramatic - but seriously, wouldn't you be having a pink fit???); the other half gets on the phone to the travel agent and demands to know what's going on. And then we do a mad dash to the shop front.

As far as I can tell, my tickets were always there for the 1st of October. My flights were always booked for that.

However, the airline carrier noted the 'tentative hold' for the other date (which I was told should have dropped off, since they never created tickets and I never paid for the change), and so booked me for those flights and didn't have me down for the actual flights.

So after quite a few phone calls, the travel agent has me all sorted again. But I still have to wait until Monday for complete confirmation, as right now my booking has the words 'this booking has not been ticketed' as a title.

Breathe, Sasch... Breathe Sasch...

Would appreciate your prayers that there aren't any more dramas from now, and that I get on that plane on Thursday with no problems!

I Lift My Eyes Up To The Hills... (Psalm 121)

I was originally going to title this 'In the Storm', because that's what the last two weeks have been like.

After the Taylor's died, I honestly felt like God had decided to put his combat boots on and starting kicking my backside like never before. People talk about wakeup calls, and how it motivates them to do better and be better - that's what it was like. This was the trumpet sounding before the great assault.

And then more stuff happened. Little things. Scary things. Stuff that makes you wonder where the hell is God in all of this? It's not too much longer before you realise that God is right there, even when you can't see Him. That His hand is holding you up in the midst of the fury.

I cried a lot this last fortnight. Most people assumed it was grief, and yes, that did play a part in it. But more than that, it was the Holy Spirit gently pulling away some layers from me that I never knew existed. There's pain involved whenever God does this stuff inside you, and I was feeling a lot of pain as He reached in. But this was pain due to healing, and I had to go through it in order to grow.

I've felt like I've been stuck in a holding pattern for a long time. Coming home from Rwanda, I knew I was having to wait on God before going ahead and starting the process of serving the Rwandaise. Infertility puts you in a holding pattern, as too many of my friends are well aware of. When you are considering another person in all of this, such as a spouse, holding patterns increase even more.

But I know now that the season for holding patterns has gone. That I'm being asked to activate the vision I've had for so long. That there are no more excuses to hold me back. That I have been asked to serve, and the time for serving is now.

It's hard to articulate exactly how this makes me feel. There's still a lot of unanswered prayer out there, as it's never as simple as just going. There's a lot of barriers between here and there, that noone but God is going to be able to take down.

Am I scared? Yes

Am I unsure of my next step? Yes

Does this seem impossible? Yes

I don't have any easy answers for any of this stuff. I just know that I'm being told that now is the time to get my calling to Rwanda off the ground. And I'm holding on to God to show me exactly the path that I should take to get there.

Would you pray with me?

He Puts My Tears In A Bottle (Psalm 56:8)

Earlier in the week, I lost two people who meant everything to me growing up. Allan and Kari Taylor played such a huge part in my life as a child, and it is unbelievable to me that they have gone. Their passing was hugely traumatic for all concerned, and I can't think about them without crying.

I still remember mum and I heading off to Airley Beach for a holiday in 1985, only to find the Taylors running a COC camp up there. In an instant we were invited to join the bushdance that night - and there I am, four years old and in my favourite pink tutu being twirled around by Allan as I stood on his feet. Mum and I looked at the photo earlier this week and laughed and cried as we remembered.

Kari took on this hopelessly uncoordinated little girl and taught her all about first, second, third position in ballet. I still remember standing at the bar (which I couldn't even see over at the time), and her spending time on me, getting my feet right. I don't remember much from my ballet years - but I will never forget how to position my hands and feet, thanks to her.

Mr T gave me my first school awards. He taught me how to curtsey as I received my trophy and certificate I still have the video as he did his curtsey, and encouraged me to do mine. The whole audience erupted into laughter - yet another common trait of being around Allan Taylor.

Every chapel memory I have has Mr T in it. I remember one in particular (that has NEVER left me), where he shared his love of the word ENTHUSIASM. I can still remember him getting all of us to call out 'EN THOOS IASM' en masse back to him! That sermon about serving God with enthusiasm challenges me even now.

He was the Dad I never had. He never once made me feel that I was taking up precious time from him. He always ran to give me cuddles as I grew up, and made me feel that I was the most important person in the world to him.

Kari's joy was so infectious. As she danced and sang for Jesus, you felt inspired to reach for more and to serve God to your best ability. There were many times I watched her and my mum sing on stage together and couldn't wait to grow up and sing just like them.

Allan & Kari's marriage was a witness to everyone who observed it. I pray that as my marriage continues, I can grasp at least half of the joy and love they expressed to one another.

I am grieving for the fact that my children will never have the opportunity to meet the Taylor's. To be touched by them as I was. To be loved and treasured and educated by teachers like that is a blessing you never fully grasp until it's gone.

Heaven is in the midst of a big party, of that I am sure. I only wish I could see it.

God Bless you Mr & Mrs T - your impact can not be described in the words I have available today.

In memory of the Taylor's, I want to share this story, which I think embodies both Allan and Kari so completely.

The Starfish Story

Original Story by: Loren Eisley

One day a man was walking along the beach

when he noticed a boy

picking something up and gently throwing it into the ocean.

Approaching the boy, he asked, “What are you doing?”

The youth replied, “Throwing starfish back into the ocean.
The surf is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them back, they’ll die.”

“Son,” the man said, “don’t you realize there are miles and miles of beach and hundreds of starfish?
You can’t make a difference!”

After listening politely, the boy bent down, picked up another starfish,
and threw it back into the surf. Then, smiling at the man, he said…

“I made a difference for that one.”

Some days need a good dose of the beach!

I was feeling a little flat today. Just frustrated with how sick the drugs have made me, and how there is yet to see any success. Some days are what I like to call 'pit days', and it can be very hard to dig yourself out.

Anyway, I thought a nice drive and lunch out would help cheer me up, so off to Margate I went to enjoy the sun, the sand and the surf.

Just a glorious day on the beach

The tidal path of shells and pebbles

This little guy stalked me (from a safe distance)

as I strolled along the shoreline

Off he flew to Redcliffe

Sometimes all you need is a change of scenery to help clear your head. I came home feeling a lot better!

Drives out to the wide blue yonder

Another bonus of 'Ekka' week, is the fact that we get a public holiday smack dab in the middle of it on the Wednesday. Just for the show. The other bonus being that as a public servant in a public hospital, I get paid for it, even if I don't work.

Seeing that the last time we had headed off anywhere remotely distant was back in April (on our grand tour of NSW), I had pretty itchy feet when it came to getting back out on the road. And the Ekka public holiday was as good a time as any.

First stop was Boonah, and a great breakfast at Flavours Cafe.

Then on to Mount French National Park to check out the view of the Scenic Rim.

Looking back towards Boonah

Cunningham's Gap

Then on to Condamine Gorge. We travelled down the 'low road' for a bit. The Condamine river is the head of the Murray Darling Basin, which starts in Queensland and ends in South Australia.

Condamine Gorge

Closer shot of the Gorge

This shot is for my mum

Checking out the RTA car

(this is the land of the free range cow)

Sitting by the side of the 'road'

(a glorified cow trail down to the Gorge)

Almost got that itch!

Don't forget me!

When the signs started telling us that this road was only for 'high clearance vehicles' (with 14 river crosses to get to Killarney), we did a u-turn and headed up to the High Road. First stop here was Carr's Lookout, for another great view of the surrounding area.

I think we go that way!

Looking back over the Gap

Glorious rolling hills

It was still fairly early at this point, so after a quick visit to Killarney, we kept driving over to Stanthorpe.

Queen Mary Falls

And we ran into these fine people and stopped for lunch!

My parents, who had taken the EXACT same route we did,

and had almost exactly the same photos!

After lunch we drove off to Girraween National Park and took a scenic drive through the mountains.

It's not called the Granite Belt for nothing!

Large boulders everywhere you turn

On the road again!

Then it was time to head home. But not before stopping at Vincenzo's (the Big Apple), and having the best Apple Pie I've ever had!

It was a beautiful day, and we hope to stay up there for a weekend at some point.

Ekka Excitement

If you've known me any longer than a week, you would know that I am a big fan of cows. There are multiple posts on this blog highlighting that fact.

I also like 'The Ekka'. To the uninitiated, the Ekka is Brisbane's equivalent of The Royal Easter Show or The Melbourne Show. "The country comes to the city" and all that jazz. Usually referred to by naysayers as a waste of money, a breeder of disease and pointless in this day and age.

Well, this post is a great big raspberry to the lot of them!

I LOVE Ekka. I would go to the Ekka every single day of the show if I could. I jumped at the chance to volunteer this year because it meant an extra day there for free. May have meant 5.5 hours standing in a very warm exhibition hall - but it gave me another day at the Ekka.

I'm seriously considering becoming a member of the RNA (the organisation who hosts the Ekka) just so I can get unlimited access. UNLIMITED!!! Imagine that for a second, will you? As many entries to visit the Ekka as I want in 10 days! As close to heaven as I'll get whilst still alive!!!

Have you guessed why I love the Ekka so much?


COWS.

There are literally THOUSANDS of the bovine beasties available for my viewing during the 10 days of Ekka. I drive down the side street every day on my way to work - and there is NOTHING more exciting to me than looking into the barns as I go past and seeing some beautiful bovine backs!

So, I went to the Ekka on Saturday to work; and then yesterday B and I went back for our day of cow perusal (amongst other things).

We had a great time. On arrival we visited the dairy cattle pavilion, where I was then harassed by a baby cow who only wanted to lick me from one end to the other! On exit we visited the Dexter exhibition (a lowline breed that only grows to around hip height), and I began serious conversations as to the purchase of such a beastie. I fell in love with Dexters about 2 years ago, and with a brother in law currently building a house on a few acres in North-East Victoria, I have a strong argument as to why a small herd of Dexter cattle would be a great investment for him and his family.

Anyway, here are some pictures of our day at the Ekka...

Ruby, the 2 day old calf who wanted to lick me half to death!

Then off to the Woolies Pavilion for plenty of free taste testings

and my own version of a 'wine crawl'!

Miss Moo holding court at Dairy Farmers Milking Barn

I got a badge to prove that I milked a cow!

She was a very accommodating cow too!

Another cute baby to cuddle

Oh yeah - we did check out the horses too!

And what would a day to the Ekka be without a Strawberry Sundae?