It was late in the afternoon when I felt that strange sickening sensation invade my senses. I didn’t pay much attention to it as I hung up the phone. My mother had sounded peculiar as we spoke, but I didn’t push her for any explanations. Mum was always going through something in her life. I was used to it after 19 years of strange behavior. There was however, one glaring different about this conversation that I COULD put my finger on. She asked me if I loved her. I laughed at the ridiculous nature of her question and replied, “OF COURSE I LOVE YOU”. Then she said to me, “You know I love you don’t you?” Again I giggled at the silliness of the conversation and said “Of course! Where’s all this coming from?”. Her voice sounded a little odd but she managed to steer me off course with some excuse about being tired and for me not to worry. So we finished our conversation and I carried on with my day, but I couldn’t get rid of this persistent niggling feeling that something wasn’t right and so I dialled her number determined to find out what was wrong. I got the answering machine. At 3am the next morning my family came to deliver the bad news. My instincts had been right. There was something wrong. Something terribly wrong. But nothing would prepare me for what I was about to be told. “Rebecca, Kathy’s dead. I’m so sorry darling. She’s gone.” ....Read More Here
The concept of choice is not complicated. "People" make it complicated.
The truth is it’s really is quite simple: My mother had a life and with it was given choice. I have a life and with it I have also been given choice. My mother chose to take her own life, and unfortunately that had some pretty massive implications for me. As a child, I was at the mercy of her decisions. But the moment I became an adult, two things happened: ....Read More Here
There is an old saying that “Time heals” - but I don't believe it's as simple as that. Enough time can go by and the pain may become less intense, but the root of your pain will always exist. Time can be a tool that if used in the right hands, can help the healing process.
Just me and the Pohutakawa Tree
Just recently I was challenged on the anniversary of my mother’s death to go and visit her resting place. I knew God was trying to get something through to me that day but my infamous mind blocking techniques were in full swing. It wasn’t exactly the greatest weather to go visiting ironically enough! Infact it was the most intense storm I had ever witnessed. I made my way up to the edge of the cliff face where she rested, gathered my hood up around my face, clutched my clothes firmly to my body, and sat stubbornly down beside her in complete defiance. I somehow got the feeling that it was personal, that the weather was so dreadful just on account of me being there. ...Read More Here
I remember the first time God planted the seed of freedom in my heart. I had gone down to the valley where Mum had taken her life, and while sitting there, I began to have the most intense debate with God about what I perceived as being; "the absolute impossibility of appreciating life”. I wouldn't classify myself as a Christian back then, simply because I was still so confused about EVERYTHING. But nevertheless, God and I had some interesting discussions during these times. I believed in Him, I loved Him enough to be obedient to His voice. But I was just a hurt little rebellious girl, whose life was in tatters. It was a time in my life where I would literally plead with Him to let me go....to let me come home, and although I knew what He was saying, I could not for the life of me, understand it. I would hear Him stating rather matter of factly, that appreciation was required in order for me to make sense of things. I left that place with a God gifted answer, painstakingly bubble wrapped with divine sticky tape, so that no attack could possibly harm my new found revelation. ...Read More Here