farewell

Wonderful readers, I am sad to inform you that this is Found and Finding's final post. I feel God has led it to a close, and though I am sad to let it go, it seems very right. It is time for refreshment, for new life. I have grown so much through this blog. I have discovered deeper parts of myself in allowing creativity to flow. I have found more of God, though it seems I will be forever finding Him.

New exciting projects have emerged in a rush of New Years resolution fever. I am embarking on a one-year photo-a-day project. I haven't shared much of my photography on Found and Finding but pop over to brownbreadandhappenstance.blogspot.com if you wanna check me out. And! My darling friend Kate and I are starting a joint photography blog called Trail and Wander. It's not quite up and running yet, but come see us at trailandwander.blogspot.com in a few weeks.

Here is a final song lyric, one I have been deeply challenged by in the past few days, and one that will surely haunt me all the way to Thailand:

It's not that we don't know or we're not shown the proof of poverty

It's not that we don't have the tools to go and break this yoke of slavery

We quit because it's not an easy fix and then forget that they are even there

We forget to care.

Faint Not - Jenny & Tyler

Friends, let us bold in our faith. May we become outrageous, even shameless in our fervour for God's cause. Let us remember that at the end of everything, the only opinion that matters is God's. Let's get crazy for Him. May passion define our every choice. May we be wrung out, broke, and bloody for our God. May our finding the deepest depths of God be our never-ending pursuit. But above all, may He be praised.

autume

My faith and I have entered into a quiet, delicate season. It is gloriously lonely, sweet, warm and fleeting.

I used to think that 'spiritual seasons' were a bad thing. I used to think they were a figure of speech that lukewarm Christians used to justify their falling out of 'hotness' with God. I sort of took offence when people said they were in a 'dry' season with God, because I think God deserves better than our excuses. I myself have been through those sorts of spiritual seasons where one month you are shouting His name from the rooftops, and the next you can barely force it passed clenched teeth. I know what it is like to sail on a holy high after an Easter camp, only to plunge into the coldest, loneliest term, wondering where the heck God is.

But I have lived three very intense, very amazing, very spiritual years. And though I have had ups and down in my life, my faith and my relationship with Jesus seems to have gone from strength to strength. Thus in a fit, or phase, of spiritual pride, I began to deem these ideas of justified spiritual seasons as simple laziness and unfaithfulness. I decided it was a choice that people made to slip away from Him. When things with God become less-than-thrilling, when we come up against something hard, or when God pushes some buttons that we'd rather ignore, it is so easy to turn away, ever so slightly, just enough so that we lose that acute intimacy, and God gets given a demotion in our hearts. The downward spirals commences, until one day we feel like it isn't our fault: that it's God's - He's distant, I can't help that. Excuses cloud over the truth.

See now if I had written this post a few months ago I probably would have left it there. I would've signed off with some encouraging flurry, accompanied by horrid undertone of spiritual superiority and judgement. But...

God has shown me that spiritual seasons are okay. They're not okay when they are due to the things I just mentioned, but sometimes a change is natural, much like winter melting into spring. God has shown me that He does not demand that we are always on fire for Him. He demands that we always love Him, that we always look to glorify Him, that we always try to walk in His ways. But He does not demand our constant display of zeal for His message, He does not require our non-stop hype and hysteria over our callings.

No.

To my surprise, God in fact loves to ebb and flow through seasons in our faith and our lives. Our Mighty Father is not only found in a burning bush. He is also found in whispers, those absolute heartwhispers that you yourself can barely hear. God is not only present when we can't help but sing in loud voices, when we pray hundreds of times a day, and can barely keep our noses out of His Word. God is also there when we are full of doubt, when we are tired and lonely and confused. 

God has been leading me by the hand into a brand new season, one I've never known before, and one I never thought He'd find joy in. This season is quiet and lonely, in the best possible way. This season does not need me to pray a lot, and does not need me be with people. It is challenging me in such a non-confronting way that I'm allowed to ignore the toughness of it if I so desire. God knows me so well. I've had a few trying months, and all the while I've been striving so hard to not fall even an inch away from Him. I've been working to make a life and to surround myself with people and to not waste time. But God has led me into the wilderness, and taught me to let go of needing people. He has also taught me il dolce far niente, that is "the sweetness of doing nothing". He has given me permission to sit and say nothing and be nothing and learn nothing. It is healing beyond words. It will not last long... Christmas is near, then New Years, then I'm moving out of home and starting a full time job. But for now, I am revelling in this quiet loneliness and letting God show me who He is in these moments. I am finding whole new shades to God's glorious colours. I am meeting Him, hearing from Him in refreshing, delicate and ever-so-beautiful ways.

pauper

How many times have you heard someone say

If I had money, I would do things my way

But little they know, that it’s so hard to find

One rich man in ten with a satisfied mind

Money can’t buy back your youth when you’re old

Friend when you’re lonely, O peace to your soul

The wealthiest person is a pauper at times

Compared to the man with a satisfied mind

My life is over and my time has run out

My friends and my loved ones, I'll leave these no doubt

One thing is for certain, when it comes my time

l'll leave this old world with a satisfied mind.

- Joe Hayes & Jack Rhodes

the listening: satisfied mind - eau claire memorial jazz i (ft. justin vernon)

hero

I've been waiting for God to come for me. I've been waiting for Him to rise up like some storybook book hero and sweep me up in His beautiful, righteous wrath. But instead, my mysterious saviour has been a quiet worker. He has moved in whispers. When I came to the end of myself, when my grief choked me and when I found myself broken and shivering, the only sound in the world I could hear was His breath. These weeks of my coldness towards Him have not made Him move an inch. Rather than fleeing from my anger and disappointment, God rested Himself right at the centre of me. Rather than rushing in to overcome my doubt, He has had faith in my faith. 

I am not enough. I am not worthy.

My faith is so small and breakable.

My love is fleeting, my heart is rotten.

But this God is big and He is stubborn. 

His grace clings to me, I cannot shake it off even with hate and abuse. 

How strange, how glorious is He.

He remains my one and only hero.

walk

I just watched a film that made me cry. (I wish I could say that I never cry in movies, but apparently that is no longer true.) Soul Surfer is a docudrama about the pro surfer Bethany Hamilton. She lost her left arm from a shark attack when she was thirteen. She is a Christian, and has let God use this tragedy to bless and inspire people all around the world.

I have had a hard month, but not because I got my arm chopped off or anything even in that vicinity. I've had a hard month because things didn't go the way I thought they would, and rather than turning to God to lead me on, I turned away from Him. I got knocked off my board, but rather than get right back up, I let myself sulk around in the water.

When asked the question "what does your relationship with God look like?", I often think of Peter walking on water. Unsure of who is in the distance, Peter says "Lord if it's you tell me to come to you on the water". Jesus replies, "come". Christ asks us to step out of the boat, to let go of what we call safety and come find Him. 

Thailand is my equivalent of walking on water. People say it's crazy, it's impossible, don't be stupid, be safe and get back in the boat. But God is there, and sometimes He is all I can see. So I step out in faith. And I am finding that it is only when I am walking on the Rock, intangible and ethereal, that I am able to know the true Christ. It is only when my whole world rests on His faithfulness to me, that I am able to let Him be His full self. But then Peter see the waves, he sees the storm and he starts to doubt. I see my bank account, or I look at other missionaries and I realise how crazy I'm acting. So I take my eyes off Him, I let my trust be in worldly things, in my own capabilities and that is when it all falls apart.

"...when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, 'Lord, save me!' Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. 'You of little faith,' he said, 'why did you doubt?'"

- Matthew 14:30-31

Jesus is always there to catch me. 

There is value in failing. There is worth in trying to walk where Christ leads even if it doesn't work out. Our faith is stretched and strengthened when we take steps towards Him, even if they are only three faithful ones before our doubt lets us sink. God's true joy is found in our getting back up again. If Bethany Hamilton didn't let one less arm keep her on dry land, why should I let a disappointment hold me back from where God is leading?

arms

I have lived a few dark weeks of lonely doubting, and I am not yet in the clear. Among other things, I began to seriously doubt my call to Thailand. I began to doubt that God had a definite plan for me. I began to doubt that I could ever be an effective missionary. I questioned whether I should just be sensible and stay in Australia and go back to my uni course next year. I questioned God's ability to provide a way for me to Thailand, and then I questioned whether I had enough faith in Him to allow Him to get me there. I feel older now, more mature, less dreamy and spontaneous. So I started to think that maybe I needed to "settle down".

But I look around this life, this city, and I know I am not made for here. I don't fit. I know my heart was made to be beat for something far bigger than myself and my neat little circle of lovelies. I know my feet were made to walk for Christ. My arms were made to wrap around destroyed, broken bodies. I know that I will never be truly alive until I live the way I was made to. I was made to lose my life for Jesus.

"The King replied, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.'"

- Matthew 25:40

I know Thailand will be yucky. I've been twice before, and it is not my cup of tea. It is hot and there are bugs frickin' everywhere. It is rarely clean, and rarely pretty and those are two things I value very highly. I know that I am going to struggle deeply. It is going to shot me to pieces spiritually, emotionally, physically, mentally. I know people think I'm stupid and naive for thinking of seriously doing this. I know people think I should wait til I'm qualified and married. I know it will be a huge risk. I could get raped, killed, abducted, sick. I may go there guns blazing and return home, a humiliated failure after only a few months. But I can't not try. I can't not give myself over to this cause, this nation that has haunted me for two years. I can't turn my back on my God that deserves more than my Sundays. I can't not give Him everything.

I am glad to have gone through this doubtful mini-season for one awesome reason. God has not spoken. He has not said "Sinead, you must go", or even "Shin, just quickly confirming that I would like you to go to Thailand, but I'll love you either way". I'm glad because now I have chosen out of my love for Him, not out of obedience. That may sound weird, but now rather than going to Thailand thinking I have to because it is God's set-in-stone call on my life, I am going because I think God is worthy of this sacrifice. Rather than going out of obligation, I'm going for love. 

lump

"No need to pray, no need to speak...

The arms of the ocean are carrying me

And all this devotion was rushing onto me

And the question of heaven

For a sinner like me

But the arms of the ocean delivered me

Never let me go, never let me go

Never let me go, never let me go."

- Florence + the Machine

My unfaithful weeks, words and thoughts are not enough to undo His faithfulness to me. My anger and doubt do not lessen His love or deter His grace. He holds me gently even when I am trying to thrash Him away. He rains His tears over me even when I am swallowing the lump in my throat. He sings over me even when I play my music loud enough so as to block out His voice. He tells me He will never let me go even when I am running away. He says "I will carry you" even when I am sure I will fall.

"The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still."

- Exodus 14:14