There's A Little Bone Dust In All Of Us

I have waited to post this for what feels like a sweet forever. Why? Because the woman you are about to meet is a walking miracle. She should not be alive. On May 16th, 2006 she was shot three times - twice in the stomach and once in the heart - by the man who used to be her husband. She was in a coma for weeks. By the grace of God alone, she lived. She LIVED. Amazing.

Miss Wanda Ray, this is for you...

If you take a look at the image above, you'll notice two things almost immediately. First, the tree doesn't match most people's standard definition of beauty. Where perhaps once it stood proud and upright, today it bends. Gnarled. Weathered. Scarred.

In short, it is flawed.

But take another look.

The roots of the tree - it's heart if you like - lay exposed, leaving delightful hollows in the wood on which the weary can rest. The leaves cluster together and point upward, toward their Creator, silently understanding that community and worship strengthen even the weakest, most tortured sapling. It is truly beautiful.

And that second thing?

Though time has left it's mark, though the small cracks in the surface of the wood will continue to weather and widen, it bends...

But it does not break.

Talented Hubby took this picture a couple of years ago. The tree in question lies in the south-east of South Australia, in an area known for it's timber industry - and it's tall, straight, flawless pines. Those pines have never held much appeal for me. Bundled in together, fighting for sunlight but never quite reaching it, straining, yearning - their entire existence wrapped up in being the best, the tallest, the strongest. Then, just when they're at their peak, they're chopped down and sawn into uniform planks, along with every one of their neighbours. There is no character and no warmth in those pines.

And then you have this little old tree - gosh knows how old it is - and in all it's imperfections, in all it's history, it still manages to point to God, to let itself stand testament to what He has done with even the smallest, most flawed part of His creation. It stands atop a slight hill with loads of space all around. No need to compete. No need to compare. Just plenty of room to breathe. Can you imagine coming to this tree for shelter? For comfort? I sure can.

Right now you're probably making every excuse under the sun. I'm not like this tree! Not me! I'm nothing special! All I did was survive! Except that's hogwash. You are phenomenal. God is using you in the most profound way - I mean, here I am, clear across the planet, and I'm thinking of you, and trees, and God.

Amazing.

It was uncanny the way I thought of this tree as soon as I heard Wanda's story. If there ever was a visual representation of a person in nature, this picture would have to be a contender. And, because I just can't help myself (*grin*) here's a little "Lyrical Prozac" of my own. Listen to the words:



Wanda, we love you girl. "Be the tree!"

Wanda Ray runs a store, Bone Dust Cowgirl, in Oklahoma City, OK. If you're of the 'western' persuasion, pop in for a visit - you might just leave with a new best friend. James Stephens, Wanda's fiance, carves amazing (and, in all honesty, utterly unique and edgy) jewelery there too. If you would like to read some more about Wanda's story, you can find the details here. Bone Dust, Oklahoma (the fictional yet somehow very real destination you end up when you're finding yourself) also has a Facebook page (P.S. By way of explanation, 'Wanda' is an online persona and real details can be found at her store site)

Along with her friends Libby True and Fannie Grace, she is also a podcast queen. You can find the girls at Flawed But Forgiven - "three Christian women who get real about the issues and subjects that surround them" - and at their podcast page on iTunes (just type "Flawed But Forgiven" int0 the iTunes Store search field - Wanda talks a little more about her story in Episode 22). Flawed But Forgiven also has a Facebook page and the girls have a collective profile there as well - Wanda Fannie Libby.

She's ALIVE! Call Off The Search Teams!

"Destination" by Talented Hubby

You know how it goes - life keeps attacking you from all different angles and you don't even realise you're under attack until you stop to breathe and that's when life tries to smother you with, you know, even more STUFF, and before you know it two weeks has gone by and you've gone AWOL from your blog with no explanation whatsoever.

Hi! My name's Lizzie! You might remember me from such blog posts as "Ahhhh, Twilight. And Sonic. And Sweet Tea" and "Who Knew Unloading Groceries Could Be So Educational?"

There was no real reason for my bloggy absence except about a week into it, I realised a week wasn't going to be enough so I kept going. I just wasn't feeling it. What 'it' was exactly, I wasn't sure, I just knew my brain power was being all used up by just doing the regular 'mum thing'.

So, what's been happening then, I hear you ask?

Eventually I'll get around to finishing off my Sydney story but for the time being we'll lay that aside (no brainpower = meh. Soon though). Talented Hubby returned to work after a couple of weeks off, busier than ever. The kids returned to school after their end-of-term break (they've been back at school a week now - we're in the fourth and last term, and break for our summer holidays around mid December). Boof and Moo got their school photos (taken last term) back the other day, with Boof being most upset that the photographers had forced him to smile open-mouthed and his big front teeth were visible. Jay lost a tooth. Moo had a hissy fit when I told her we would not be purchasing any books from the school' s book club this time. Boof has begun to walk to school on his own (he's 9, but we live really, really close and he's the responsible one). The dog almost ran away. That's life in a nutshell for us at the moment. Sydney really was fabulous and gave both Talented Hubby and I the break we desperately needed, but it's taken us a little longer than expected to get fully back into the swing of things.

I think we all go through periods of reflection. While I wasn't completely offline (my many tweets will attest to that!) I did have to carefully spread my creativity and blog posts just weren't going to make the grade. Thankfully, I think I'm over that and hope to build up my posting again. Thanks for putting up with that :)

More soon.

Come Fly With Me...To Sydney (Part One)

Oh hai! Did you like my lame-0 attempt at thwarting the would-be burglars by pre-scheduling my last two blog posts? You know, the ones that were haphazardly thrown up YouTube clips because I ran out of time to write something deep and meaningful? You did? Awesome.

We're home (burglars take note: I will be really quite cross if you come now). We are EXHAUSTED like we've never been before, but we're home, we're safe, and the plane didn't crash. All good things. Photos to come tomorrow, mostly because - would you believe it - Talented Hubby has gone to work a catch-up shift despite not being due back until Saturday, and he had sole control of the camera and therefore all the post-editing work. And yes, we Photoshop with abandon. Just pre-warning you.

So let's get crackin'. This is Australia.


We live in Adelaide. We had to get to Sydney. Since we didn't particularly fancy two days of arguing over who had the rights to change the radio station enjoying each others' delightful company in the car, we chose to fly.

Australia is a big country, but the flight from Adelaide to Sydney only takes a smidge under two hours. We left on a Monday morning along with all the work commuters and babies this side of the Pacific Ocean. School had broken in my state (ie, the cute pink one, South Australia) for a two week holiday a couple of days prior.

But wait.

The story goes further back than that.

For FIVE SOLID DAYS leading up to our departure, I had battled a headache that wouldn't quit. Mr Paracetemol (and his more beefy older, stronger kin) had helped, but it was wearing me down. I should have paid attention to the oddity of the situation because the night before we left, a Sunday, I discovered that I am, in fact, quite stupid. The headache was a warning sign that something worse was going to happen if I didn't pay attention to my body, and wouldn't you know it, happen it did, in the form of a migraine - while at my kinda-sorta-pre-departure-birthday-dinner. I started getting warbly vision in one eye, something that has happened before but still didn't make me click. I whispered to TH that I felt unwell but what I didn't tell him at the time was that I was also feeling severely dizzy and (I realize retrospectively) in danger of fainting. I finished my meal very quietly and tried not to fall out of my chair.

So we get home. Me being the kind of gal I am has, of course, left a pile of things to the last moment, including some laundry and most of the packing for two adults and three kids for 6 days. You know, just the small things really. So I'm rushing around like a mad chook feeling green (my vision was, mercifully, back to normal and I no longer felt like I was about to topple over, but I wasn't exactly light on my feet either and I still had the blasted pain to contend with). I finally managed to finish everything (I had to prioritize and thus the fridge contents went un-tossed and - I worked out on our return - I had forgotten to clean the burned-on food from the stove - yuk). Went to bed praying I would wake up chipper again, and for the most part - thankyou God - I did.

The usual airport-y check-in tasks were completed in due time and that's when things started to go mildly pear-shaped. First, I was flagged for a security screening (drug wand thingy). Then the flight was delayed (thankfully not for long). Then we realized we were leaving from Gate 13. Did I mention that I neither fly often or fly well? My first flight was a medivac flight while in pre-term labour back in 1998. My third was to my mother's funeral (on the return journey I also battled, uh, bodily-fluid-'evacuation' of a different kind thanks to a run-in with some bad chicken - stuck on a plane toilet for an extended period of time? LIFE FAIL). Not a lot of good flight memories. This time I wasn't ghost-white-sweaty-vomiting or anything, but the anxiety was real enough and I white-knuckled the arm rest the second we hit even the teeniest discernible turbulence.

We landed without any kind of 'evacuation', thankyouverymuch.

Taking the train from the airport to the station nearest our hotel was both interesting and expensive. Finding the hotel itself, wheeling our ancient little suitcase behind us, wasn't hard though. The room was lovely, fifteen stories up. We dumped our luggage and went exploring.

(Part Two coming soon...)

Moral Of The Story? Always Have Fresh Batteries In The Camcorder

This never fails to crack me up...

No Bag? No Problem!

Isn't this a cute idea?



I have a sudden urge to go buy a case of bandannas!