We are Safe


For the past while I’ve been struggling with the idea of change. How to make a change. What change to make. How to open the right doors. Where to go. All of my attempts have failed. It has been distressing for me, and disheartening. My self-esteem has been low. My mood has been low. And then I realized this afternoon:

Change doesn’t have to be hard

I changed my life, my country, my job, my future all  in one go, and the big thing at the time was:

It all fell into place

I didn’t have to jump through hoops, or do party tricks, or sell myself unnaturally, or bang my head against brick walls. I just allowed it to happen, and did what I needed to do when it needed to be done. It all worked out perfectly. A better country opened for my family and I, work opportunities, a new home, new friends, and it all resolved peacefully.

The world is filled with color. Embrace the color, and when change happens, embrace it. Trust in God to change our lives for the better. We are held in safe hands. We are safe.

Place of Safety


This morning I thought about a spiritual ‘place of safety’. A place of prayer and quietness where we can connect with our Creator and know that we are loved. How natural experiences can leave us with such a void inside that there is nowhere to go, but onto our knees to connect with our Lord. I would like to share something very personal that happened today. The term was so strongly pressed on my heart, I was trying to find references of safety in my morning study, and thinking of a poem I wrote a year ago titled the same ‘Place of Safety’. I know that I am believing in a living God when we were invited to sing a hymn this afternoon and right there in the first verse were the exact words ‘place of safety’ mentioned. Where to find a place of safety when hiding from storms so near? This was after I wrote my previous post Self-Sabotage. It was mentioned to me many years ago – we may not like to invite experiences to cross our path, but always be thankful for whatever may bring one to a place of prayer. A place of prayer and safety.

‘Is the master at the helm?
Hear him whisper, peace be still’


For the past four weeks we have been cycling on Saturday mornings. My husband is a cyclist and my son is turning out to be an ace on a bike too. If I don’t join them and my daughter, I am resigned to staying at home alone (housework is not totally my thing).

Last week we stopped at the traffic light, on the sidewalk waiting to cross over. My son was a few millimeters too close to the road. I called out to him to move back as I was last in line, and he was at the front with pedestrians in between. As I was calling out, a bus came rushing past, it missed the front of his bicycle by an arm’s length. The driver hooted at him and I could feel the wind from the passing bus. My son’s one foot was clipped into the pedal so he was sort of attached to the bicycle. It was one of those moments that feel as though an angel was right there protecting my son. It still makes me shudder when I think of it.


Yesterday we went further than we should have. We went as far as my daughter and I could go, but then still had to make our way back. At one unknown point in the road we crossed over – my son and his dad ahead, my daughter and then myself (I’m always lagging behind). It was a slip road, and my daughter never crossed over directly, she was cycling diagonally over it. I was already on the other side. I thought to myself – she is on the road – and yelled out, get off the road! As I was calling out, I saw a bus appearing to be coming towards us. I watched my daughter continue cycling and make it to the side just as the bus hurtled past us, followed by another with neither seeming to have any indication of breaking.

My heart stopped in that moment. (Can’t even bear to think about it). I had to thank the Angel(s) again for keeping my family safe.

I woke up this morning with this moment in my head and had to say thanks once again. My children are safe. And they both so easily could not have been.