My God stuff thinkings

I know why God has not answered regarding the dream of the Pilgrim's Progress. I thank him often for his sense over mine. He knew I was needed for this battle against anorexia with my daughter. 

It has been like having your worst enemy living in your own home, watching them break down the love and structures we have built as a family. 

So Lovese woke the next day as distraught as ever. In the journal she had written out of one of those 'moments of bliss', which make you feel as if the world is yours and no one is going to stop you. She wrote in laughter and derision of the times and many ways she hid food when we thought she was eating it. She detailed minutely her plans to reach a BMI of 14. She was currently 16, and had lost 3 kg's over the time we spent with my parents. She talked about a website she sneaked onto called My Proana which was her strength.

She belittled our attempts to 'trick' her into believing lies about food and her future. 

It was the voice of anorexia speaking. can imagine we were heartbroken but I have to say that even in first reading those words in the middle of the night, I felt Jesus presence close in and his peace surround me. I knew he was feeding me wisdom not my own when the morning came. 

Lovese continued to be in mental pain - more stunned and like an empty used pillowcase - she had a deep resignation about her, yet with one ounce of hope swirled so throughly inside we almost missed seeing it. Then it dawned: Lovese secretly wanted someone to find her writing! 


Our tactical team gathered. Further proceedings were discussed and the number one rule became: 24hour serious monitoring. No chance for any tricks for a full 4 weeks, then we would recalculate. Doctor visits were amped up with blindfolded weekly weighing and bloods repeated. I did not want Liv to have numbers in her head. Her bloods came back not so good - with cellular changes again that would soon be permanant damage in the bone marrow.


Those first three days I would never like to repeat or hear of again. Loads of physically holding her as she struggled and yet pleaded internally for us to stay strong in the same breath. It reminded me of the scene in C.S. Lewis The Silver Chair where he begged to be set free but in his sane moment he had told them never to listen to his words when he was under the spell.

It was confusing, agonising, exhausting, but filled with purpose and Godly influence. I felt like giving up at least once every day, and so overwhelmingly so each weekend, that I am not sure how it has come to this. I wanted her in hospital, I wanted her in specialist care. I wanted to keep screaming. But deep down I knew the experts say family therapy is the best chance. 

The past 3 weeks have been all of the above but the waves would be a little lower and further apart. Lovese began to recognise her triggers and that the waves did nothing but come and go. She could ride them or jump over them now that she knew the outcome on the other side would always be the same steady resolve to protect her.

My darling mother txt us a special word each day to be grateful for and as we talked throughout the days of these words, Lovese began to participate more. Our family worship times in the mornings took on deep meaning as we devoured the Word of God and let it reshape our minds and took it up as weapons against the enemy.

Our two youngest children who have also been homeschooled all year were beginning to struggle with what was going on as they had limited knowledge about Liv's "sore stomach". I agonized over whether to send them back to school. They will go back after these school holidays. I need to fight this battle with Lovese so strongly so the whole thing is uprooted! I feel that God has encouraged this and that others will be blessed by this too.




This is soo coooooooool!!!!!


Our youngest 5 (Lovese included) were to go to our local Christian camp for the week. The two older girls as leaders. Lovese was packed and ready to go. We lasted 2 hours at camp as she fought anxiety over the new situation, even knowing I was to be there throughout the day and for each meal.

She was not ready.

She pulled herself together enough to line up for lunch...saw hot chips and sausages on everyone's plates and fled the room in fear. Together we cried and drove home where I am sooo sooo ashamed to say, I became angry and briefly said things I should not have said. I had been dreaming of my night times with just me and my hubby. A time to recharge. Now I had her alone with no one else and no one to tag team with.


But God's thoughts are so far from our own. He knew this is what she needed. One on one mother and daughter time.

The next day was my husband's birthday. After he came home from work, she lost it again but gathered herself and tried to relax and enjoy the evening. My husband had put old music on and we hung out on the rumpus room beds and lay still. Soon Lovese left the room which means I had to follow her. She was getting angry and she yelled at me that she justs needed to feel the cold. This is highly unusual for her as she is always freezing due to lack of weight. 

I followed her to the outside door as she walked out in socks into 4degree celcius night air with puddles under her feet. I wanted to panic as she had NEVER done this before. She kept walking but was slowing so I stayed at the door ready to pounce if needed. She stopped about 8 metres from me way out in the dark and looked up and cried. Her shoulders shook. Then she just looked and looked up into the stars - for 5 full minutes. I wanted to go to her but God stopped me.

The next thing I saw and heard was her heave out a cry to God, something short and personal like "Help me God!"

I ached for her. She stood so still there staring up into space searching for a world to see that had no pain and only God. Within one minute of complete wondering and stillness before her Maker, she turned and walked back into the house right past me.


At the same time, my husband not knowing any of this had happened, was nudged by the Holy Spirit to walk out of the rumpus room and swept Lovese up into his arms and danced her around the room. I sat down to watch and blink and wonder. Liv's face just glowed. She shone with delight at the closeness of her father's arms wrapped tightly around her. The music kept playing and as I watched I saw more than physical changes in my girl. 

She portrayed an overflowing peace and utter trust and satisfaction, an unchecked joy and even surprise, and most of all - a full and fearless love at us all and I know too, her Father God - who had also swept her off her feet in life dance.

So we went to bed and smiled inwardly.


The next morning Lovese said she wanted to eat the full 1800 calories that an average 12yr girl should have. She decided to divide up her meals with 600 per meal. Then she proceeded to do this and ate confidently and without any residue of doubt. Today is her 3rd day of doing this. She is devouring (more importantly) the Bible and a book written by Sadie Robertson called Live Fearless. She has spent possibly 3 hours each day at different times reading the book and writing out the scriptures within in her own school book. Then she adds every point that she finds wonderful. Then she might add her own thoughts also. 

I often see her pouring gently over her previous writings and scriptures and then starting another page with more of the same. She flops on our bed at our feet with books in hand. Or she will lie before the fireplace she keeps stoked while I busy about the kitchen. You cannot begin to imagine my soul and spirit souring in pleasure and gratitude at our awesome God who bends but never breaks us, drills but also thrills us, calls and never turns his back when we cry out to him. He is so good. 

The good good Father.


Tonight she tells me she has never felt so close to God than over these past 3 days. Her siblings are home and everyone can feel the difference. 

I pray she will continue to write her story down and share it someday. She has so much to say. 

My precious precious girl!





Yesterday marked the first day of my daughter's healing from a two year battle with anorexia and bulimia. She is only 12.

Is she really healed? How long will it last? Do I lack faith by being cautious?

I have so many questions about how I am to view this. How do I proceed from here in every sense?

Mostly I just have to scream right now, internally, and groan externally - I have one hour alone (one of very precious few this last year). ARRRGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!








At age 10.5 Lovese (Liv) began running at school for their annual cross-country event. At first we had no clue of a hidden danger as she was just running lots and keen to win. She did. She lost puppy-fat weight and we thought this was normal though I kept an instinctive eye on her.

Then at age 11.5 we learn her best friend (a class older than her) was struggling with bulima/anorexia/PTSD and depression because of a serious incident of abuse. We had been unaware of this and that Liv was her only confidante. 

We began to advise her, and put caution into their interactions, but Liv kept asking us to pray for her friend and that all was fine. Lovese is highly gifted. She has always been head of every year at school and a high preformer. She loved writing and reading at an adult level where only lack of life experience meant she could not understand. Her perfectionist nature spiralled her down a path of darkness when her beautiful heart caught hold of a deep black lie, and told her she was not perfect afterall. 

Mid last year she grew thinner, moodier more critical and hateful to her siblings. Her bossy moods and some telltale signs of bulimia wrenched my heart so strongly when even at her denial, I could not deny the facts before me. I knew the signs from experience as per some previous posts.

I could have died from mental pain. I thought I had done this to her and that I should have protected her so much more.

I knew the enemy and battle ahead. She was beautiful and stunning and admirable, and comfortable and manipulative, and deceitful and red-skulled behind her fake mask. She killed everyone she could. There was no playing games with her. You either entertained her voice on a slippery slope or you ran weakly up hill from her, covering your ears and screaming at the top of your lungs to block out her voice, while her soft fingers pulled you down into brief moments of reprieve - where she whispered more lies to your stunned brain, and danced images of tantalizing skinny bodies free from care and fearless of the world. She made me feel soooooo good in those moments. 

Places of bliss.

She stroked my ego, and held my sense and logic in her hands and squeezed the life out of them. She said this was what it looked like to be in control. I wouldn't be hurt here. She would protect me. It was her and me against the world.

As I spewed and binged, then fasted and over-exercized. As guilt and mood swings threw me around my home for my young husband to pick up after. As my young son slept and grew. As I yet prayed for release, and carried great longings for more children, purpose, direction outside of my head. As I struggled through all this for years, terrified of the moment I finally admitted to my husband I had a problem, then my mother much later, then one friend, as all this was happening, God kept up his continuous chant of life and fullness, blessing and love, strength and freedom, comfort and joy. He held me through all my arm swinging, depression, fear. He held my hand even as this hand was feeding me wrong and making me be sick.

He became my strength when I felt I was making my final slip into the clutches of anorexia's pale thin hands. But this is not my story anymore. It is my precious darling child's. My Lovese (old English for Love).

At the end of last year her teacher approached me and we had a heart to heart. God-ordained, this teacher had her own previous journey with anorexia. Her Godly wisdom spoke to my heart when my motherly instincts said I would not rise from panic and pain. She advised homeschooling, which was agreed on by my daughter's counsellor and doctor. 

So this has been my year. A suprisingly good year despite the incomparable stretching and agony of watching Liv. My next older daughter asked to be homeschooled too so she could support Liv as they were the closest. This daughter, Riva, like her older sister and brother, has a deep heart for God and I knew she was to be a gift from God this year. 

Together we have been with Liv at her worst. I have repeatedly held her as she physically fought with her tormented mind and environment while Riva sank down to pray. I have had multiple times of distressed giving up, I have become crazily angry at nothing, I have cried a billion tears, prayed a trillion prayers, been lifted on as many angels wings and strengthened with the open floodgates of God's own Holy Spirit. I have rode on waves of joy and closeness to Jesus like at few other times. Riva tag-teamed with me when I needed time out. I tried hard to get the balance right in giving Riva the praise and time away from us all that she so needed. My husband has been there, our steady sense and loving arms. 


Three weeks ago today, God nudged Riva to find and read a few pages in a journal-like book that belonged to Liv. 

We were at a town homeless meeting with Lovese that night, trying to get her interested in the world around her. When we got home late, Riva was standing in the dark by the fire, crying a soul-deep quiet cry. She couldn't talk. She just held the journal up to me. 

One glance at the first few words, and I felt God reach out and steady me. At the same time, Lovese glimpsed the journal and fell face down in utter fear and grief and pain. She began to wail, then keen over what had been exposed. 

My husband and I made some quick being that we would not read it until morning. The other that I would sleep with Liv that night, and RIva joined us also.

Liv cried for hours and rocked and writhed in her way when she is in the thick of anguished thoughts. We are always praying, so eventually after she fell asleep and I still couldn't, I read the words she wrote - just four pages written 10 days prior. I might try to take a picture of the pages and attach (Liv has given permission).

The first sentence was this: I LOVE LOVE LOVE ANOREXIA!


Why do I think she was healed yesterday? I'll write more tomorrow.

And I need confirmation from our local church that this is God's will. Only, the chirch we have been somewhat attending has no interest in this. They put down other churches from the pulpit and are in the middle of a changeover in leadership from father to son. 

I don't know what to do. Do I reach out to the other churches which I know very well, and see if there is vision and support for the Pilgrim's Progress among them? Do I start advertising employment for artists and managers from around the world to consider this venture?

Why do I get people close to me from my church who have not read the book, asking me - challenging me - as to whether the Holy SPirit is in this. The same quiestions arises when I mention my passion for apologetics and training people with the beautiful knowledge and answers to give in gentleness and love regarding our faith. I am challenged as to whether I should just rely on the Spirit to give all this knowledge and answers when the time is right.

Argh!!!!! God... this 2 week fasting from all but you is such a gift. I need it. THANK YOU!!

If your word is a lamp to my feet

              My next step is exposed

If your word is a lamp to my feet

              I know the ground I step on

If your word is a lamp to my feet

              All dangers are obvious

If your word is a lamp to my feet

              I know what shoes I am to wear

If your word is a lamp to my feet

              Those closest to me will see where I step

If your word is a lamp to my feet

              Everything else looks dark

If your word is a lamp to my feet

              I can see if the next step is level

If your word is a lamp to my feet

              Your word must be in my hand

If your word is a lamp to my feet

              I better hold onto it tightly

If your word is a lamp to my feet

              I must know it very well


If your word is a light to my path

              I can see where my steps are heading

If your word is a light to my path

              I can plan for the journey

If your word is a light to my path

              I can see the sideroads to avoid

If your word is a light to my path

              I can avoid the pits and traps

If your word is a light to my path

              Others can gaze ahead too

If your word is a light to my path

              I need strong arms to hold it before me

If your word is a light to my path

              Others will be drawn to it

If your word is a light to my path

              No darkness can diminish it

If your word is a light to my path

              Protection walks with me

If your word is a light to my path

              The power that raised Jesus is in my hand

If your word is a light to my path

              It is hard to be distracted by lesser lights

If your word is a light to my path

              I have nothing to be afraid of


If your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path

              Everything is exposed for what it is

              The creator is ever before me

              Your brightness is what I see the world through

              I am grasping the Word of Life!



When writing the above I was under a nasty slowly brewing what felt more like opression rather than depression. My feelings where getting worse and worse and I was beginning to loose all desire for anything in life. My thoughts seemed to be not my own and I was sinking helplessly. I knew I was at breaking point when my friend (who had been praying for me when she was up at night with her newborn) asked me to visit so we could pray. For 4 days leading up to this I could not go more than a few hours without sobbing my eyes out, like the world had ended, and God had not gotten the glory He deserved.

My crying was seriously distressing and my poor husband, who stepped up beautifully to support me, began praying also. When I was parked 100 metres from my friends place on the side of the road with uncontrollable sobbing ruining my carefully applied makeup, I could barely breathe! 

I txted her to say what was happening. She immediately prayed for me and I sat there alone on the side of the road with my sunglasses on, crying for nearly an hour. Finally, I drove home without ever getting to catch up properly with my friend, and thinking I might be medically depressed and might need intervention outside of prayer.

That night I knew something deep down had broken for the better. Over the next 2 days I climbed up and broke free of my heavy and dragging ball and chain, and saw the light and joy and insight return!

I don't know how to describe this other than spiritual attack. A few days later, a "random" comment came from an old friend at a school athletics event. She said Thames (my small town) was becoming known as the "witch-hub" of New Zealand. She said this because I mentioned that life had been so hard this year with my husbands work and all the distress of my son's friend's suicide and sooo many other stressors, that we where thinking of moving to a city (Tauranga). 

She told me to stay. I felt the confirmation in the Spirit that this was a spiritual battle which is so much stronger than the hurts and stressors that daily life brings. I was to pick up the Word Sword and hitch up my armour and give both ears to my Mastor Commander to hear what his next move was.

So this I am doing.

Yesterday on a walk, God asked for 2 weeks of my time. Nothing that was not of God or about the Word was to pass into me (ie, movies, etc). Two weeks of all God. And that I could ask what I will during that time and He would give it to me. So far I am not sure what to ask. I am waiting until the fruit of fasting is at work and I can more clearly hear his heart and know his desires.

I know in the natural perhaps, I beg him to let this land come on the market quickly so we could know either way if we are to build the Pilgrim's Progress on the hilltops overlooking town or not build it at all. 

I just want what he wants.

I have had so many selfish thoughts this week. I almost became bogged down in the Slough of Despond! My feelings overwhelmed me and I could not swipe them from my face and keep them from oozing around my bnody to choke me.

The Slough looked like this:

Why do you answer some prayers but not what I really want now? Why am I so afraid and struggle with mild social anxiety? How can these fears help you in any way? Will I ever be a strong fruit-bearing tree? How can I watch my children suffer with the struggles of life and am I the cause of some of them? How do I be the strong mother and friend I know you want me to be when I am sinking here? Why am I feeling so impatient about the land for the Pilgrim’s Progress? Why is it taking so long? Will it even happen and if we don’t get that land, do we continue on our own land? Why do I crave community and like-minded people and meeting new people when I also struggle to lift my head in town at times? Who can I cry to? Will we even be living here next year? What do I do today?

Sometimes I forget to call for help!!

So, when I finally gave a loud call for help, rather than the garbled, half drowning attempts and desperate looks at those walking comfortably on the sidelines, I felt Help instantly hold my hand. I still had to wade to the other side and heave and push and pull to untangle myself from my feelings and climb onto solid ground, but Help never let me go!

Now, after a good washing under the words of Help, I can see the answers clearly and I thank God that my life is no other way.

Maybe this is why I love Pilgrim’s Progress so much – simply and foremost for reminding myself in a visual and tangible form the realities of our walk as followers of Jesus. NOTHING, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING compares to walking with Him!!!

Latest comments

08.10 | 16:59

Kylie, I would be delighted to have my name as a side character in your next book. I am telling anyone who will listen that they too must read The Book of Told.

08.10 | 16:42

Thank you SOOO much, Carol, for your encouragement! I would love to use your name as a side character in the prequel! Much blessings to you!

08.10 | 15:43

For the first time in many years I have found a book that I didn't want to put down. I wanted to just continue reading to find out where the story was going.

06.10 | 07:11

so so nice