In a perfect world, I would support our local school as a Christian family by keeping my children there until the end of their schooling journey. I would keep my children living at home with me. They would continue to be involved in our local church each weekend.

But we don’t live in a perfect world.

A year ago, I was determined not to be seduced by the idol of education. Nothing much has changed in that sphere. I must constantly remind myself that we serve the Lord Jesus and not the shiny aspirations of the world.

What does it take to be joyful?

I pose this question to myself as I sit opposite my husband at our local café/playground. It is a beautiful spot, framed with gum trees and filled with casual weekend vibes. It’s a pleasant 30-odd degrees, the kids are playing, and I have a latte and the paper. It is a picture of the idyllic Saturday morning for our family.

Quite different from the scenario earlier in the week when I had endured a severe case of gastro overnight. As I lay in bed, hoping to get some relief, my four-year-old daughter came and informed me that Daddy had now been sick too. So as I was the better of the two of us, I hauled myself to the lounge room with the minimal aim of ensuring no children injured themselves. Inevitably, a few hours later, one of the children succumbed to the illness. Several loads of washing, much Glen 20 and Hydralite later, I collapsed into bed. What a contrast. 

I’ve always imagined a squirrel's nest as a hole in the trunk of a tree lined with soft feathers and leaves to keep them warm. Given that we don’t have squirrels in Western Australia, I’ve relied on picture books and movies to accurately depict a squirrel's nest, and I’ve never questioned it—then again, maybe Bali squirrels are a different breed. At this moment, I’m sitting on my hotel balcony watching squirrels dive in and out of a hive-like contraption of sticks, twigs, and leaves, somehow held together between the outer bushy branches of a tree. I’d love to know what holds it all together: tree sap? Saliva? Human hair?

I was sitting at the dining table one morning in August 2023, after another sleepless night, spoon feeding my 12 month old baby girl as she sat in her high chair. Weary and worn out after months of sleep deprivation and doing life with 3 little, somewhat spicy, humans under 6 - I turned to the Psalms seeking refreshment for my tired heart (not that I could read well through my puffy, blow fish eyes). I had read the words of Psalm 23 many times, but this morning, in God’s kindness and in my desperate need, they had a particular effect on my heart.