Counting the Cost

waiting for rain

In a blog not so long ago I told you about how my whole world has changed in a very short amount of time. See blog: Fortune Favours the Brave 

I made the decision to go for what I wanted in this season rather than hang around trying to make something work when I knew my heart wasn’t in it anymore.

Sounds romantic huh?

At first it felt like an excerpt from Eat, Pray, Love.

“Elizabeth Gilbert would be so proud of me!”I cooed to myself.

What the self idealisation and heart flutters forget at the time of your great leap of faith is the inevitable crash at the bottom.

Usually at about 6 weeks.

According my swearing psychologist (See last blog)…its a ‘thing’.

I didn’t just make all these changes because I was bored or that I wasn’t happy.

I made changes that I genuinely knew that I was ‘called’ to make. And I’d spent a good amount of time considering the cost.

The cost would be friendships

The cost would be literally….costly..like dolla dolla bills costly

The cost was security in a career

The cost was losing the community I had spent the last 10 years being immersed in

The cost was a sense of identity

I had alot riding on my decisions

But faith propelled me forward

and grief helped me come crashing down to earth

The cost was felt deeply

and I felt naked

vulnerable

and I little bit lost

Thankfully I keep a little folder in my phone and when I’m lying there at 4am wondering what the hell have I done, I open it up and read the thought and encouragements of people who have cheered me on the whole way.

Little notes, emails and texts reminding me to keep going as tears stream down my cheeks.

A thin moment

#sidenote. Tears are prayers too

Things haven’t worked out the way I wanted since quitting my job

I just got let go from the work opportunity of a lifetime

and I’m still counting the cost of those things I had to give up to chase my dreams

But you know what?

As I drove away from the “dream job” failed today…

I thought…

“Wow, I’m actually ok.”

There was a peace that surpassed understanding

I can give up everything I once thought I could not live without,

Be rejected and chose not to take it personally

See shit literally hit the fan

and be ok.

The world keeps turning

and the birds kept singing.

It reminds me of a great truth given to us by Jesus:

If you cling to your life, you will lose it; but if you give up your life for me, you will find it.- Matt 10:39

I hope that you chase your dreams even if you have to count the cost

I hope you choose to try again and again knowing full well you cannot control the outcome

But that is truly life

and life abundant.

Be free my friend,

xx Gem xx

 

 

 

 

 

 

New Eyes 

“Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.”

 My Mum is one of my best mates.

We call each other every day and hang out whenever we can. 

We do DIY projects together, talk about life and sometimes she strokes my hair while we plonk on the couch to watch Downton Abbey.

But it hasn’t always been this way.

Growing up, I was a bit of a Daddy’s girl.

My Mum and I clashed a lot!

I was often angry at her for decisions she had made.

And she was bewildered with the fragility of my emotions.

I didn’t understand her lifestyle.

And I had religious people whispering in my ear constantly.

I was made to believe my Mum was going to hell.

Pretty hectic for a nine-year-old!

As the years went by and my teenage angst began to settle down.

A friendship began to form.

I remember one night my Mum came to me after a long term relationship broke down with my step-mother.

She sat crying on her patio and she said she was sorry. 

Sorry for not standing up for us. 

Sorry for not putting us first. 

Sorry for not seeing the wood through the trees. 

Sorry for not protecting us from mistreatment.

We hugged it out and wiped a slate clean that night.

It began a beautiful, healing journey for us.

Yet I still struggled with the fact that my Mum lived a lifestyle that many people of faith would say was ‘sinful’ and for years I still found myself conflicted.

And I know that she felt it.

My Mum has been in a loving, monogamous relationship with the Leanne for eight years now.

Someone I trust, look up to and whom I see as a second Mother to me.

They got engaged at the Taj Mahal just last year.

Cue a wrestling match between my religious, fundamental voices with the new faith I was forming.

Then a small, still voice whispered to me…

“What would love do Gemma?”

And I knew the answer straight away.
This is not to convince you of any political or religious viewpoint.

This is a story of the love between a mother and a daughter.

So I’ve let go of the religious voices.

Love is the voice I listen to.

I no longer see my Mum through the lens of pain and fear that so many people did and projected onto me.

I see my Mum with new eyes.

and I call her beautiful.

I call her strong.

I call her my biggest fan and advocate.

I call her my friend.

Because that’s what Jesus calls her.

And I will walk with her down the aisle on her wedding day,

With my sister on the other arm.

And I will stand with her as her daughter.

In love and unconditional acceptance.

To my Mum,

I love you.

Just the way you are.

Love Gemma