Monthly Archives: December 2018

What matters most … is a matter for the heart

Love cannot come in to you, it can only come out of you. [MC]

The last day of the year and, like every other year, the endless wandering of my soul ‘ups the ante’.  When my yearning and longing reach their crescendo. It’s noisy, creative, anticipative and full of fire in the belly.  It also dumps with it, a bunch of melancholy. A restlessness. An ache. Of something I cannot quite see or grasp. It’s like waiting for that bus you know should come, but never comes, but you keep waiting for it.   I feel a bit like a ping pong ball – pinging and ponging my way between the fire in my belly and the stormy blues of melancholy. But today, round one, goes to the fire in my belly – the ignition point at the heart of my yearning and longing … love.

We spend a lifetime searching for love and acceptance.  A friend of mine sums this up beautifully. She says most of us are limping along in this life with deeply buried inner pain, facades of confidence, with no idea how to make it right. Love has always been at the core of my search.  The chasing of futile dreams in fantasy places, happiness in external pleasure, love in religions, even other people, hoping to fill the emptiness that has plagued me. The irony is, the only place I ever needed to search was within. How fabulous is that!

Most of us journey a long way to find what is near.  People carry such wrong notions about love. We look everywhere for our perceptions of love. But love cannot be found through external influence. Not in people, power, wealth, beauty, legislation or status. Love is not about performance or doing or going anywhere.  No-one can learn to love by following a manual. Love does not force its will on anybody. We cannot control it.  And contrary to how the world portrays love, love has no economic value, it is impossible to measure. You can’t love to order – love’s steps are experienced not constituted. Author Mitch Albom says,
“Love is not revenge. It can’t be thrown like a rock. And you can’t create it to fix your problems. Forcing love is like picking a flower, then insisting that it grow.”

I have talked in previous blogs about the way the truth hits you – both hard and gentle at the same time. How it punches you in the stomach as it puts a loving arm around your shoulder. [Anne Ursu].  A few years ago, at a time when I was mentally at my ugliest, I had one of those moments of truth.  I love to run. I find the action of putting one foot in front the other calming when life is in a turmoil. On this particular run, when my thoughts were anything but calm – full of self-pity, anger and confusion, I heard the words, ‘Margaret, love cannot come in to you, it can only come out of you.’ Wham!  It still sends shivers down my spine. I literally stopped dead in my tracks and looked around me to see if anyone else had heard anything. What a truth!  ‘Love can only come out of you.’ Those words of love literally changed and saved my life.

We are all looking for that place where love has hidden itself away. The aching for love and acceptance links us all. To truly understand love, we need divine help. People don’t like to hear this, because we tend to want to be in control of love, dictate love on our own terms, but we won’t get there without God, because God is love – nothing more, nothing less. To seek love is to seek God. And that is a matter for the heart.

I want to finish the year with a quote I used at the beginning of my blog journey. I’m hoping you may take this into the New Year with you.  It’s by the 13th-century Persian Sunni Muslim poet, Rumi, he says,

“Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.”

The greatest weapon we have is love.  And love starts with you, from the inside-out. You must be the love. It’s what you feel in your chest.  Your heart knows the way so run in that direction. The alchemy of love can only come from inside you. Oh yes, what matters most is most definitely a matter for the heart. Happy New Year.

A miracle happened to me last week

Photo of a pohutukawa flower

Miracles happen every day, change your perception of what a miracle is and you’ll see them all around you.  [Jon Bon Jovi]

Miracles do happen – they really do. Let me tell you about mine. Last Friday, in an act of sheer rock-bottom desperation, I got on my knees and literally begged whoever was listening for help – God, Jesus, my deceased parents, my ancestors, the universe, the angels – everything and everyone I could think of. “Please help me!  I don’t know what to do. Please keep her safe.” Over and over again. To be honest, the silence that followed was expected, but the agonising noise of aloneness at that moment, I think, will stay with me forever.

Afterwards, for want of something to do, I sat at my computer and keyed in the words ‘help for homeless kiwi women living in Australia’. Hoping for anything that could take me to my next step of doing … well just doing ‘something’. For those who don’t know ‘Kiwi’ is the nickname used for people from New Zealand. The name derives from the kiwi, a native flightless bird, which is a national symbol of New Zealand.

Google search results gave me nothing to smile about. Numerous articles and stories about the more than 3000 homeless New Zealanders in Australia filled the search results. Sadly, this figure also includes my Melbourne based thirty-nine-year-old daughter.  Here in New Zealand we often refer to Australia as our Trans-Tasman relations (relations across the Tasman Sea). We are geographically and culturally close, both countries share a British colonial heritage, and our bond made even more special by the ANZAC’s who fought side-by-side on the battlefields of WW1 and WW2. Australia is also one of the first place New Zealanders head to for a ‘change of scenery’, whether it be to work, live, or holiday. My daughter has been living there for 15-20 years.

As I scrolled aimlessly down the depressing search results, I intermittently clicked on charities I felt could offer help.  I clicked links and sent messages telling my story.  I wrote about my daughter who has been living on the streets, on and off for years. Of how she was mentally unwell, a consequence of addiction issues, and certainly not well enough, mentally or physically, to hold down a job. She was not eligible for any assistance in Australia and she had finally reached out and said “I want to come home. I want to heal.” A charity paid her fare back to New Zealand, but because of unpaid child support, and several reneged plans to pay it back, she had been denied permission to leave the country. So last Friday she returned back to the city from the airport, and continued her life wandering around the city, begging, and sleeping on park benches.

“I don’t know what to do, and I am desperate”, I wrote.

And then the miracle. The following morning, from across the Tasman, 2693km away, a message in my inbox. One single response to my previous night’s pleas. A group called Tautoko Whanau Help Australia, offers to assist in finding accommodation for my daughter and help navigate the processes and systems that would enable her to get back to New Zealand. I cannot begin to describe what it meant to see the words ‘we can help’.  From hopelessness to hope – that loving arm around my shoulder I spoke about in a previous blog, Perceptions of God. Someone listened, someone heard my prayer, and someone felt the pain of an anguished mother battling for the life of her daughter. My prayer was heard. That was my miracle.

I learned a valuable lesson about miracles last Friday.  Miracles don’t happen by waving a magic wand. They are not a sprinkling of foo-foo dust, nor a spell or a potion for an instant fix. In my daughters’ case, we are only at the beginning of a long winding road with several twists and turns.

No, miracles are the doors that open. People selflessly working together. Communities reaching out to those in need, time and time again. Taking the hand of someone and saying, ‘I am listening.’ ‘I care.’ ‘I can help you.’ Miracles occur when people love and care for one another.  It’s as simple as that. Read more