Journal

Honouring your stories, revealing God’s grace, releasing hope…

It’s Time to Heal - Brianna’s Story

It’s Time to Heal – Brianna’s Story

“So, several people from church have told me you have a split personality disorder.”  I leaned closer to the passenger door of my date’s pickup truck and felt tears begin to brim in my eyes.  These were some of the first words my “date” said to me on the way to the restaurant.   I felt ashamed, confused and misunderstood.  Not only was the accusation untrue, it was a defamation of character, lies that were being …

Gratitude.

You think this is just another day in your life? It’s not just another day. It’s the one day that is given to you today. It’s given to you. It’s a gift. It’s the only gift that you have right now, and the only appropriate response is gratefulness. If you do nothing else but to cultivate that response to the great gift that this unique day is, if you learn to respond as if it were the first day in your life and the very last …

Still A Church Girl – Linda’s Story

Still A Church Girl – Linda’s Story

I can still remember the excitement that I felt the first time I went to Sunday school at the local Anglican church. I was six years old and my younger sisters and I were dressed in matching pink knitted sweaters and white box-pleated skirts. No doubt, I was also wearing my black patent leather buckle shoes, as they were my only good shoes and, along with white ankle socks, were the mandatory footwear for any …

Psalm 139 (A paraphrase) - Johanna Wallace

The Story of My Life – Psalm 139

I am not a mystery or a puzzle to you Lord, Rather I am a story you know by heart, A story that you never tire of telling or hearing. A story that is familiar and dear to you, for you are its author. Long before I knew you, you knew me – having dreamed of me and already, having shaped my heart. You are the title, the introduction, the cover and back page of …

It’s Time to Get Naked – Julie’s Story

It’s Time to Get Naked – Julie’s Story

I love to swim and at least twice a week I engage in the soothing and rhythmical ritual of following the black line for 20 or more laps at my local, public swimming pool. A few weeks ago I shared the pool with a Seniors Aquarobics class. Whilst I swam laps a large group of older women bobbed up and down in the water beside my lane, exercising to music. By the time I had …