All over the Internet I see articles encouraging budding writers to share their story. That their story is unique to them, that there is someone, even just one person who will be touched by that story… you know, I’m sure you’ve seen and read them for yourself. And that’s not bad advice. I’m just ferhoodled as to the practical outworking of sharing my story throughout the seasons of life.

I want to share. There are events in my life that have shaped me, touched me and changed my thinking and my beliefs but I often feel stifled in sharing because I don’t know how to do so in a way that tells only my story. I’ve written before on why I don’t write much anymore about my children. Because I want them to own their own story. And it is theirs to tell.

I believe that my story is mine to tell but how do I do that without it having an effect upon some of those people who were indirectly involved? My life is so closely interwoven with the lives of my loved ones and they have also been affected by those same events. Some details and some events seen in print will hurt them, even though I would only ever share things once I’ve dealt with them through forgiveness. Even though I can forgive and have moved on, doesn’t necessarily mean that others in the story wouldn’t be reminded or hurt.

And as such, this is my dilemma with blogging. I’m not the best cook nor do I have any original recipes so I can’t blog regularly about that. There are already a plethora of housekeeping blogs out there. Do we really need another one? There are sites that encourage godly marriage in a much better and deeper way that I can. And motherhood? Oh dear… is there anything I can say on that matter that is either practical or inspiring?

So why bother? Why not just give up?

That would be a fair question. Because I love to write. I need to talk. By nature I am a fairly positive person. Even when in the midst of depression I still lean toward positivity. I like to encourage others. Not from a high, lofty place but from deep within the trenches. I find sharing to be therapeutic, healing and clarifying. So it’s not all about me being a great servant and encouraging others… it’s also about my need to express, to ponder, to journal my way through the seasons of life.

What about you? How do you manage to share deeply yet not over-share or not step on the toes of those intricately involved in the story?

Two of my guys are behind bars in 2006.

Once upon a time there was a young married couple. They were passionate, zealous and on fire for God. They were on many various ministry teams and always doing something for God. Not only would they talk about God but they would also talk about church. Most, if not all, of their time was church and ministry – always serving others.

And then they learned what the true Church is. They looked around and couldn’t see her, as she is supposed to be, anywhere in action. It all looked fake. People playing at church. Playing at serving others when the widows and single mums still did it hard every other day of the week. This young couple saw some things that were absolutely atrocious and should never be associated with God’s people. The young couple became disillusioned.

Everything was wrong, wrong, wrong. Everyone was wrong and on the path to eternal damnation. But they could see this. They had the truth. It was up to them to show the lost the way!

And so the couple started speaking out, telling anyone who would listen. They stopped attending church for it was all just modern counterfeit, man-made ego antics anyway. When they did occasionally see people they would yell, er preach about the pagan origins of modern church practices, decrying all the hypocrisy. What the couple failed to realise at the time was that they simply were not helping anyone or any situation. They were just as much part of the problem that they were speaking against! Not only were they yelling to the believers (although they believed them to be false converts or duped believers) but the non believers were also witness to all these outpourings of misplaced zealousness. What a shame the non believers didn’t see the love and passion the couple had for the Lord God. Instead what they saw was a man and a women, bitter and angry. Instead of being told all about the Lord God, they were yelled at and told how wrong everything was, how evil the world is, how bad the church is. If only they would repent and turn to THEIR way of thinking – then they would be saved. No, sadly the unbelievers saw nothing of value, no treasure to be sought. Instead they turned their hearts away from the Lord. They filed that anger, which looked like hatred to them, in the back of their mind. If you are reading this and are one of those people, please stop by and spend a few minutes to view this presentation.

A few years went by and life dealt this now not-so-young couple some blows. As it does. The couple experienced some dark and down moments. They realised that they were not the only ones with the truth [end sarcasm]. They realised they had ‘thrown the baby out with the bath water’. They had gained a little insight into the beauty of the Church but became disillusioned because it wasn’t always so. However, they had stopped being part of the Church, thereby becoming part of the problem. They had started pointing to the Church more than they were pointing to Christ. Throughout all this, sadly, there was little support from friends or brethren in the Lord. I’m not too sure why not but that’s sometimes how life goes. Isn’t it?

This couple’s journey isn’t wasted and it isn’t sad. The road that they walked was instrumental in getting them to where they are now. Now, they do not point out the evils of the church or of every Christian they see. They are busy enough minding their own business, striving to live a life pleasing to the Lord. The not-so-young woman in this story doesn’t believe she has all the answers. She doesn’t think that life is Us vs Them. She knows Jesus Christ. He has transformed her life, He has forgiven her and saved her from the wrath to come. There is nothing worthy in her, aside from Christ. She has no goodness to be emulated, she doesn’t have her doctrinal ducks all lined up in a row. She has a website but in it she doesn’t tell you how to live, how to homeschool, how to worship, what to watch, what to listen to, what to believe, what to wear, or what to eat. She simply wants to point to Jesus Christ. She has stopped focusing on all that is wrong with the Church and the world and is just getting on with living to the glory of God. Those who listen and watch, do so. But she has learned that she is not responsible for their actions, their beliefs or even whether or not they believe her. Her mission is to preach Christ.

I have seen enough of life to know and appreciate that we are all different. We come from different cultures with different backgrounds. We each have different assumptions or preconceptions about the Bible, about God and how the world should be. I am not going to attempt to tell you what the Bible says or how the world should be. But I will encourage you – I will strongly tell you – to examine what you know about Christ. If you know nothing of Him, then please take a look at this website. If you do Know Jesus, then I encourage you to tell people about Him. Don’t tell them what they should believe – tell them of Jesus. Tell them of God’s love for mankind. Lead them to the Cross. And trust. Trust that the Holy Spirit has led them to that point and He can take it from there.

My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me,is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.”

~ Jesus Christ in the Book of John, chapter 10, verses 27 through 30.
John 10:27-30

The world is made up of so many different varieties of people. Even in the world of Christendom, the number of differences is astounding.

And we all tend to think we’re right. But the trouble is that we all wear glasses. And they’re all different shades. We have all lived different lives, had different upbringings, read different books, hold different beliefs, have different physical bents, and all these things cause us to form assumptions about the world, about others, and about God.  And the difficulty is that these things affect the way in which we approach the Bible. Now we’d all like to think that despite these glasses, we can come together and read and interpret the Scriptures and hear the same thing. Sounds great. But does it work that way? It can but more often than not, it doesn’t.

There are two different trains of thought in Christianity

Actually there are more but these are two foundational biggies

1. There are those who believe that human beings repent and believe because God causes them to do so by choosing them to be saved.

2. And there are others who believe that the ultimate reason people believe is our free will.

This fundamental and basic belief about God and our belief will affect the way we go about our daily business. Sounds simplistic but it is true. If you are of the latter view then it is quite likely that you and I will disagree on many other points in life. And vice versa.

Many people simply cannot get over this fact- that there are differing beliefs. In fact it prevents them from discussing theology with anyone who shares a different view or it causes them to shout instead of talk, yell instead of listening. But I actually like discussing issues with those who share a different view, so long as the discussion is respectful and polite. If I wanted to read and learn without too much questioning or hearing other points of view then I’d read a book. But to participate in discussions and online forums means that there will be disagreements and they will be verbalised.

After a few years of inserting my foot in my mouth I am seeing how much I cut conversations off or I diss people, although that is not my intent.

I have changed and am continuing to change though. I used to be a lot more rigid. Some might say intolerant and un-accepting. But I’ve realised that just as much as my mind is not going to be changed by an online discussion, my argument is not likely to make someone else change their mind either. Discussions provide fodder and there’s always the possibility that a seed will germinate (Grammarians may feel free to ignore that yucky sentence) but minds are rarely changed in that environment. In fact, some people may even go into battle- losing sight of the discussion but focusing upon having the last word or ‘winning’. Time has a wonderful way of revealing things to us. It is a rare discussion that does not benefit from the value of time. It’s okay to take a breathe.

via Wikimedia Commons

I’m not becoming liberal, post modern or emergent… just listening more. I want to understand others and their viewpoints. I accept that we don’t all look at the elephant in the room from the same angle. It’s okay Susan… stop. Breathe in. Breathe out. It’s not my job to convince Christian evolutionists that they are wrong. I can now sleep well at night- despite the fact that others are wrong. (Feeble attempt at humour)

Here’s my new list of ideals… for myself

I will:

• not use words like ‘basic’, ‘simple’, ‘plain’ and ‘easy’ when referring to an ancient book, which has been written in a completely different time, language and culture.
• remember that it’s okay to admit that I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers. I don’t have all my ducks in a row

I will not:

• use the Bible as a sword or a weapon. The Bible is likened to a sword but I don’t have to pick it up and stab you with it.
• question your commitment to God just because you have a different belief to me
• use God’s word as a discussion ender, rather as a conversation continue-er

Lord, please give me your grace. For I need it so.

The name of my website has undergone many changes from HomeGrownKids, SusanPriolo.com, Kerugma.net and now as it has been for a few years, SimplySusan. Many people asked me what the title Kerugma meant. I used that name as it had significance to me but if you don’t know what it means, I’ll bet it all sounds Greek to you. I thought I’d share with you why I chose the name, Kerugma.

Kerugma

pronounced kay-roog-mah

• that which is proclaimed by a herald or public crier, a proclamation by herald
• in the NT the message or proclamation of the heralds of God or Christ

Kerugma means ‘proclamation’. It comes from the Greek word kerux meaning ‘a messenger’ or ‘a proclaimer’.

In fact the official kerux or herald would stand in the market place and blow a trumpet, calling the attention of the crowd to the edict of the Emperor, and his proclamation was as a command… it had to be obeyed. The kerux was called upon only to proclaim. His role was not to speculate about the message, nor to explain or justify it, but simply to proclaim the message, the essence of the Gospel. The onus was on the hearer to hear and obey.

What It Means To Me

We are ambassadors of God and His word, both by our actions and our words. One doesn’t need to post about theological matters in order to preach the gospel. The gospel can be preached throughout throughout the activities of our daily life.

You are writing a gospel,
A chapter each day.
By deeds that you do,
By words that you say.

Men read what you write,
Whether faithless or true.
Say! What is the gospel,
According to you?
(Author Unknown)

Now that you know what kerugma means is it easier for you to remember now?

What does your website or blog name mean? Why did you choose it?

Leave a comment to let me know or write your own blog post in response. (Just drop me a line to let me know so I can visit you)

Trying to organise a wedding in only ten weeks is achievable. Just ask us.

If you have wondered why my blog posting has been slow or sporadic, read on and learn why. I have been totally preoccupied with:

Church Decoration, Hall Decorations, Afternoon tea for 100 guests, Evening Reception, Flowers, Dresses, shoes. etc., Invitations, Bombonierie making, Order of Services, Seating allocations, and a whole lot more!

Ten week countdown

Wedding stationery and bomboniere. Who can guess what the bomboniere was?

After the initial excitement of Mr. H’s proposal it was time to get down to details. After all there wasn’t much time to plan things. One might consider that we should have been prepared for such an event with a 19-20year old daughter but… Suffice it to say that we were not.

We decided to make the invitations ourselves.I worked myself into a dither by trying to consistently tie 70 little brown bows that all looked uniform. I was not having a great deal of success until John put his fitter/turner skills to good use and devised some templates and together we made the invitations, based primarily around Abi’s chosen colour scheme.  Oh man, I love that guy and his skills!

The wedding date was set. Church was booked. Ceremony time and ministers booked.  Aside from dresses, what could be left to organise?

Ha!

The ceremony was to be followed by an Afternoon Tea in the church hall. This was to be followed by photos of the immediate family and bridal party. Later on that evening, a private reception was held at Ayers House, for immediate friends and family. Sounds easy, right?  It was. And it wasn’t. But that’s all part of the fun of life, isn’t it?

I can’t believe how much of it all that Abigail organised. She arranged most of it all by herself, yet still managed to include me. I love that will aways be appreciative.  Amazingly, she achieved a wondrous balance between organising, delegating, scheduling and still letting other people contribute with their gifts and talents!

Suitably attired

The men folk needed some suitable attire. We don’t usually have need for suits in our family. John has a suit in the cupboard. It is about 20 years old and he’s worn it once. So we didn’t want to spend ridiculous amounts on suits to feed the cupboard moths. We looked into hiring suits but providentially stopped into Myer before we committed to hiring. Wow, so glad we did. John, the two boys and my dad were suitably attired at an unbelievable price. Worked out to be cheaper than hiring and we got to keep the suits! (Start the car… start the car! is exactly how we felt — those familiar with IKEA ads will know what I meant)

Invitations were sent out, RSVP’s started to arrive, catering was being organised and the cake was being made by a friend. Abigail found her bridal dress, which is no easy feat when one is only 160cm tall. She even found her shoes to match! Some young women take weeks or months to find the right dress and accessories but not Abi. She knew what she did and didn’t want and wouldn’t be talked into anything else.  Hair and nail  appointments, fittings, etc were all made and being tended to. What else needed to be done?

The Mother of the Bride (MoB) needed a dress! My favourite non colour has and will always be  black. It’s elegant yet smart, timeless and proper, not to mention slimming. But I didn’t want to wear black. I know that it is not considered bad etiquette to wear black to a wedding. I just didn’t want to. I wore callouses into my feet searching for the right dress. It was starting to worry me and I didn’t want ‘me‘ to become an issue in the wedding. I found a gorgeous black dress that not only fitted me perfectly (no easy feat) and was comfortable but it even looked nice too! Oi voi! Does it get any better? Yes it does. It was a price that I liked! [ Start the car! Start the car! ] But it was black. Ding dong. I had stayed away from black and tried to avoid with every fibre of my being… but the wedding day was getting closer and I was tired of worrying about myself when it was my daughter’s big day. So after consulting Abi and being reassured that not only did it look nice and that she really wasn’t fussed about the colour unless it clashed horribly with the colour scheme (which it didn’t) I then sought my husband’s approval. He loved it. MoB dress –  check!

Oh, did I mention that my dear Dad came to stay with us a few weeks before the wedding. I love seeing him and having him visit but it still did throw things around a little. Bedroom and wardrobe arrangements were in dissaray, schedules need to be re-tweaked. Yet this just added to the overall excitement level. Oh, did I also mention that Dad is diabetic and thus needs to eat several small meals a day? My kitchen looked like that of a truckie roadhouse for the weeks leading up to the wedding. I tried to breathe deeply and not fuss over it until 3 or 4 days before the wedding whereby I buckled down and deep cleaned it from the tippy top to bottom. I vowed and declared to skin anyone who dared mess it up.

One week to go

I worked like a mad woman for the whole week before the wedding. I wanted the house to be spotless and immaculate (which would be a rarity in itself), I wanted the whole family to dressed beautifully in clothes that would not leave us penniless for the next ten years. I wanted the day to run perfectly smooth, with all of us having adequate rest and food. Well, it doesn’t take a genius to see that I was just a tad over ambitious.

With only a few days to go, it was time to make the bomboniere (wedding favours). Due to the nature of the bomboniere we couldn’t make them too far in advance. They had to be fresh!

We had a typical bridesmaid dress debacle and an incident involving a rather unaccomodating, rude bridal saleswoman. This in turn, forced Abigail to change the colour scheme of the flowers with only 2 days to go. Thankfully Flower Folly were more than happy to go with it and meet her needs. Many young brides may have had a hysterical fit at all this but not Abi… in fact, she was calmer than the rest of us. However throughout the previous few weeks poor Abigail was sick. She had been to the doctor’s and was on her second course of antibiotics for a possible lung infection. She wasn’t getting any better but I kept her on telling her that it was stress and that she would be fine on The Day.  [More on that story later…]

The Penultimate Day

John (the FoB) managed to whisk Abi away for breakfast and have a Dad~Daughter date before officially giving his blessing on their marriage. I’m so glad that they had a couple of hours together. I’m sure it is a time they will both treasure.

I felt like I was caught in a whirlwind yet was thriving on the adrenalin; here I was running back and forth to various appointments, confirming reception numbers and allocating seating arrangments, ushers, catering, coffee machines, rehearsals, flower petals, accessories, my dad, my husband, my sons, my younger daughter (also a bridesmaid), bathing the cat and organising bite sized food snacks for the morning and organising the clothes and emergency girly bag. (safety pins, hollywood tape, spare buttons, needle & thread, spare toothbrushes, perfurme, makeup, etc.) I had spent quite some time with Abi in the preceding week but it was always doing something, going somewhere, being busy with the wedding. I just wanted to stop. And have coffee with her. But we were both too excited and preoccupied to sit still for long.

Mr. H is a youth pastor so the youth group gathered together as usual on the Friday night and helped us to set up the church and hall. Chair covers, satin sashes, carpet runners, tables, decorations and such were arranged as much as possible. It was time to head home and catch an early night. Aha, wrong again! I had Order of Services to finish compiling and printing.

And so it was…

I dragged my weary, aching legs into bed at 2.15am on Friday night (actually 2.15am is Saturday morning but at that point I was trying to remain positive and so preferred to think of it as Friday night), after working on the Order of Services (ceremony programs) and deciding that getting a few hours sleep had to be more worthwhile than ‘the perfect program’. I felt like I didn’t sleep at all, although I must have. I tossed. John turned. I flopped. John rolled.

Zzzzzzz….

The Morning of the Big Day

6am – Tinkle, tinkle, tinkly bells…  My alarm clock gently awakened me so I swiped it to snooze for another 10 minutes.

6.05am – BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP! John’s alarm clock bellowed loud enough to wake the dead, or so I thought. Obviously not loud enough to wake him though. My alarm clock is sweet, gently rousing me from my slumber to remind me that the day is beginning. John’s alarm screeches and roars then plays a horrid squawking song. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING makes me feel more agitated than being woken by that horrid, ungodly noise. On and on he slept, seemingly oblivious to its demands and my sounds of anger and frustration as I lurched over him to turn the monster off. I only managed to stun it into silence for another ten minutes though.

6.10am – Tinkle, tinkle, tinkly bells… my clock sweetly and patiently reminded me it was time to get up. No, I didn’t spring out of bed, on that day – the day of my daughter’s wedding. I was too weary. But I dragged myself up and into the shower so that we would be at the hairdressers on time. “At least I might be able to catch a quick nap whilst getting my hair done.” I thought silently. The words gullible and naïve now spring to mind.

Out of the shower. No time for a morning cup of tea. No facebook/email check. Maybe at the hairdressers?

6.30am – The Bride gently knocks on my door. “Muuum”… Oh dear, what’s wrong?

Courtesy of Rachael Elizabeth Photography

Stay tuned for part two, coming up next week.

[edited to add: No one was harmed in the leading up to this wedding. ]

I’m confused. I just don’t get it.

Yesterday, we (Miss A and the bridesmaids) went shopping for bridesmaids dresses!  It was a l-o-n-g day and we went all over the city but returned home empty-handed. Now Miss A is not difficult to please. She has a colour range in mind and a fairly good idea of the style she wants- classic and elegant. They style in mind will look lovely on the bridesmaids as they are tall and slender.

So why is it so hard?

Summer dresses

In summer I can buy long dresses- maxi style. Ankle length.

Winter dresses

But in winter most of the dresses are short. What’s with that?

Are we really so odd for wanting a long dress in the colder months?

We have lived in all sorts of homes: a small house, a large house, a converted bus and even a shed! Some of our best times were when we were in the bus and the shed. Life was simpler. Naturally as we got older we accumulated more stuff, had more children and apparently our need for a larger home grew. Apparently.

In times of stress I yearn for simplicity because deep down I know that stuff doesn’t matter. I know that our best times of fun, fellowship and intimacy were when we had less stuff and less room.

This video is 10min long… so grab a cuppa and watch it. Let me know how you feel about it. It appeals to me. John and I may very well retire in a cabin as we don’t want to take out a large mortgage and be in debt. What are your thoughts? Could you live in a home this size?

Churches, Reception venues, Wedding dresses, Shoes, Hair ‘n’ Makeup, Flowers, Favours, Caterers and menu’s, Invitations, Colour schemes…

Mid August is the desired date. Many people are saying that it can’t be done in such a short time… but we are pretty resourceful around here. Plus, it is off peak time. I don’t think it could be done in 10 weeks during spring or summer but in Autumn/Winter – yeah, we can do it.

This is all so exciting!

I wanted to quit. Pack up my blog and stow it away in the cupboard. I feel like the proverbial square peg in a round hole. I’m not a homeschool blogger anymore. I’m not into crafts. I’m not a foodie blog nor a photography blog, nor a theological blog. I mainly just share our weekly life which is more like a family journal- quite boring if you’re not part of that family, I assume. I don’t fit into a blogging niche. Once upon a time I did, but that chapter is closed.

This site started very natural- as a natural extension of my participation on forums. I simply copied and pasted my replies here rather than rewrite them everytime a question was asked. So primarily, I blogged for me. And I’m happy for that. I don’t try to teach anyone… I just wanted to share. I don’t want to get into theological debates nor lead people astray with any wishy-washy or incorrect theology, so I simply stopped sharing what was on my heart. Yes, I do need to be careful with my words, but to allow that to prevent me from sharing is also questionable. I think I had become more concerned about appearing correct than actually sharing my walk despite the fact that I had previously written how I do not have all my theological ducks in a row.

I wanted to dig a hole and bury the site. And while John would respect my decision if I decided to go ahead with it, he really doesn’t want me to do that. I think he knows that I am the greatest beneficiary from my blog. He wants me to continue. He wants to see me write more. So I shall. I will share some of the things that I learn. They may not be 100% doctrinally correct but be patient with me, please.

I guess I’m back.