THE ENCOURAGERS LIFE

  Some of us search. We long for the moment when the calm will wash over us. The a-ha moment. The moment when everything clicks. However, years go by and the pangs within us never fade. We never feel like we made it. We never feel like we can relax. Instead we feel unworthy. We feel as though he aren't good enough. Smart enough. Good looking enough. Well dressed enough. In a world that is fast paced, it can feel as though we are always chasing something. The dream. The goal. The qualification. The job. We say to ourselves, "If I can only get this, then I will feel secure.  I will know that I am good enough.  I will feel like I have finally arrived." And then we get there and its anti-climactic, because we are still us with that qualification charged with sustaining that dream, goal or job.  The pressure never leaves. And for those whose lives take twists and turns. Where reinvention is a melting pot of work experience and service and the unthought-of r...

  Details of the book referenced in this article will be listed at the end.   As I rolled around my back garden, developing games with my child, I never could have predicted the depth they would also bring to my walk through life.   My story of Hip Hooray and Robot Ray sailing the sea only to be eaten by a whale, involves, in every moment, the backpack that Hip carries with her on their journey.   Even though he has grown up. My child and I still play the game. We still sing the song. We still talk about the story. And most recently the backpack has become a focus of our deeper discussions.   I was surprised and humbled that God had made His way into a funny song and story. Making me see that He is part of the story.   In the book, the backpack is something they open up when they face troubles. The backpack is something they carry wherever they go. They rely on the backpack always. Much like how Christians rely on God. ...

When I began my writing journey I literally had no idea where and how to start. In fact it took an entire year before I had enough knowledge to try to put pen to paper. English wasn’t my strongest subject at school and I remember coming up with ideas, but I could not get words down on a page without a struggle.  Which would then lead to be getting tired and then the project would end there. I went from genre to genre and in the end found my first success in the games I played with my child. The games became songs and the songs became stories. This marker made it possible for me to get from idea, to writing, to finished piece. After completing a piece I was able to see the value of four tips that I have continued to use daily in my writing journey. I hope it gets you started and lays a foundation for success.  You might even find something that works for you along the way or something that you can tweak. Tip 1. Read Reading other people's work is the hugest tip I can give ...

From the tiny body, that occupied the seat at the kitchen table, came one of the loudest grunts I have ever heard in my life.  It was homework time, and while they aren't the most stressful thing... yet, my young child looked frustrated while tapping furiously at my device. He had got one wrong on his quiz. Never mind the amazing score of correct answers he achieved, he was annoyed at the ONE question that caught him out. As I reasoned with him that it was ok to get things wrong and make a mistake, he replied with a sentence that echoed in my very soul. "But I don't want to make mistakes." In that moment I saw myself in him. I remembered standing in front of my friend after church just pouring myself out to her and explaining, through tears and snot I may add, that I just wanted to be good. I have made many wrong turns in my life. I have went against my instinct when it came to relationships. I have been mean from time to time. I have wrestled with feelings of anger a...

Disclaimer Please be advised that the following article has details and description surrounding surgery and childbirth which some people may find upsetting.   I lay on the operating table as nurses and doctors buzzed around me.   One male nurse stayed with me.   I had had an epidural, a top up and then when it failed to numb the necessary, a got a spinal tap. Although I couldn’t feel my feet, or much else for that matter, I began to feel a burn.   They had retrieved my son from my stomach.   The hard part was over.   They had wrapped him and gave him to my husband.   I had even fed him whilst lying there open to the room full of people.   But I knew something wasn’t right.   I was there far too long.   The female doctor who had performed the caesarean looked panicked.   They nodded to each other from across the carnage that was my belly and one went and picked up the phone.   I was surprisingly calm.   Maybe it was the d...