The roads we travel.




“Set up signposts to mark your trip home. Get a good map. Study the road conditions. The road out is the road back. Come back, … come back to your hometowns. How long will you flit here and there, indecisive? How long before you make up your fickle mind? God will create a new thing in this land: A transformed woman will embrace the transforming God!” Jeremiah 31:21 MSG


Every year between March and September I am on official duty as a footy mum.

This year my sons played their first year in NRL (Rugby League). Just to make things a little more interesting they not only played club football for their home town, but Representative football for the district as well.

While the boys are battling out against other children of their different age groups, I sit on the sideline and watch nervously… or excitedly. There are times when I hold my breath and wait for them to stand back up after hitting the ground or, another child too hard.

A few weeks ago, we were returning home from one such footy trip, with both boys in the car with me. The 4+ hours to drive home was long and the final stages of the drive I was tired and the boys were over sitting in the car. While there was no fighting, it certainly wasn’t too far from the surface and I was glad to turn into our street and driveway.

As a family living in country Queensland Australia, we do a lot of travelling. Most years, we travel around 30 – 40,000 kilometres per year. The roads in all the different directions are varied and require different types of driving.

It was during the last stages of the drive that I found myself pondering… my life was very like the different road trips I do.


There are the smooth straight roads


This is the main road heading towards the larger towns and cities where we go to some of the footy games, to doctor’s appointments and shopping for items not found in our small country town. Most of it is driven at 100km/hr except for passing through the tiny townships that you would miss if you blinked. The road is, for the most part, very straight.

This road is easy driving, smooth and uncomplicated. It requires very little activity of the brain and while this is easy it is also dangerous. While I am fresh and driving, it will cause very little trouble other than keeping a close eye on other drivers and the speed of my vehicle. But when I am tired, requires me to stay alert and take regular stops to ensure the safety of everyone on board.

Sometimes the road I travel is smooth going, it can cause me to become complacent and not be as alert as I need to be. It only takes a small lack of concentration to drift off course. It only takes another driver lack of sense to endanger my life. And it only takes the sun to be in your eyes for you to fall asleep quickly…

I find that I need to keep an eye on myself to see how alert I am staying with my life. As a Christian it is easy to drift. The world around me can endanger me, while my own attitudes and emotions can run me off the road (or off track).  I can fall asleep if I don’t realise how I am going, and actively do something about it.


There are the rough country roads


These are the roads that are bumpy and need you to drive the vehicle at the speeds suited for the vehicle you drive and your driving ability. The wildlife is the biggest threat as well as too much confidence and lack of experience.

Kangaroos often sit in the grass and as you approach their position, they jump out in front of your moving vehicle and attempt to get to the other side of the road. This requires you slow as you see them and sometimes be prepared to use the brakes if they continue in their chosen pathway in front of you.

Country roads have surprises like potholes, corrugation and rain-washed channels. All of this requires you keep your full concentration and your eyes looking forward and each side of the road.

Night-time is the worst time to drive. Danger sits in the shadows on the side of the road as the wildlife are no longer easily seen, while in front of you – somewhere in the murky dimness are the potholes – that were somewhat easier to see in daylight.

My experience as a Christian that our walk here on earth is very like this type of road. Experience is not necessarily going to be an advantage to you with what jumps into your way. The night-time of our lives is often harder as we are unable to see what is ahead. There is no coincident that God the Word of God say that He is “a lamp unto our feet and a light unto our path”. There is also no coincident that He says that he is “a very present help in times of trouble”.

We don’t know what we are about to face or what is up ahead. Even if we have travelled the road many times before, there is no guarantee that it will still be the same this time. God is not only with us in the car, but He has driven it before us, and goes behind us as well. Our past, our now, our future is known and we have nothing to fear.


I ride alone


I ride a motorbike.  The children at school that I teach religious instruction to, tease me that my bike is a “peewee 50”. I presume that they think that it is not big enough and powerful enough. My bike is a Cruiser… whatever that means! And for those that wish to tell me – I am really, really not interested. Oh BTW.. it is blood red in colour.

I find riding a motorbike to be an “interesting” thing to do. I don’t particularly enjoy it. I ride because I want to keep my ability to do so, and because I have not decided yet that I will sell it. I don’t like feeling the wind, I am not adventurous, and I miss my music. But… I don’t mind the challenge.

Sometimes I do things because it stops me from settling into a rut of “the usual” and it is a little bit different to what I normally do. Being that I am not an adventurous person, I sometimes need to step out of my comfort zone, even if I don’t like it.

It is also very lonely thing to do.

I don’t like times of being alone… accept with God, times when I choose to be alone with Him. But I don’t like it when I feel like I am going through something alone. I would rather have people around me, but that it not always possible. But when I am alone, I am always aware that God is not far away.

I am grateful, that my choice of vehicle that I ride is exactly that. It is my my choice. I can choose whether I ride a motorbike or a car, bus, train or airplane. Not so in my daily journey on this earth. Often those choices are made for me, often by circumstances beyond my control. It is how I cope with that journey that make the difference. Do I see it as a joy and a privilege or a complete drag? Do I see it as a growing experience or not?


Loud or not allowed?


When I travel with my children, the music in the car is very VERY loud. The car vibrates and I am sure that you can hear our car coming before you see it. Because we drive in the country, there is only the wildlife and the odd occasional town to bother with the sound. I make the children turn down the music before we get to the town and while we drive through the town… then it goes up again.

Driving with my husband is the opposite. We listen to very little music. He likes podcasts, sermons and music on as background. I feel my children’s eyes roll as they look at me. He will not allow loud music, and they are annoyed.

When I drive in the car by myself I can do as I wish. Sometimes I listen to loud music or I might listen to podcasts and sermons, and if I feel like it I have quiet reflections and time with God.

Living with others require that you “put up” with the things that they like and dislike. Often people clash by the differences that they have. Not one of us are the same. My children are not the same as each other, they are not like their step-dad. Teaching my children to negotiate with each other is necessary. Teaching them to respect others is also important.

I have people who are attached to my life that cause my road to be very rough indeed. They travel with me. For you it could be a family member, a church member, a community member. Sometimes people are a bit like hitchhikers, only travel with a for a short time. Others are with us for the duration of our life. Some people bring with us very loud music, or no music at all… or music we don’t like. Do you get my point?

God expects His children to get along, whether something is loud or not allowed. He expects us to respect those in authority over us. We do not travel our road by ourselves, and even if we do seem to be alone, we still must be thoughtful of those whose lives we touch.


Return home


There is no feeling like the feeling of returning to your own home. Really there is no feeling like when we turn to God. I don’t think I have to expand on this. Just turn to God. Turn the wheel of your heart towards Him.


Ride with the One and Only

Whatever road you are on, whatever your choice of ride (or lack of choice), or whoever you ride with… the most important factor is the One who ride with us?

I often look at my chaotic, “non-trouble-free” life and wonder what it would be like.I wonder what it would be like to have smooth roads to be on.

Other times I say to myself “strap yourself in, it is going to be a wild ride” and all the while the One I strap myself to, is God.


“Thank you Father for the rides, I am hanging on to you. May I always have the courage to continue, accepting each and every ride…and every road, and look to You for the help for each and every one”


Be blessed




Song of Justice


My God, my Saviour, my heart cries out to You for the protection You have promised.

When the ground shakes under me, I can find You alone to stand upon.

You are my Rock, my solid foundation.


The ground may move, the earth may tremble, but you my God stand firm.

You hold me firm when my faith is weak. You are merciful when I fail You.

You are my Stronghold and my Deliverer.


Giants surround me spilling forth their lies. They wait in earnest for me to fall.

They crouch expectantly for me to be overcome by my frailty.

But you, my God, rescue me and set me on my feet.


You heard my cry, my Saviour and you brought me forward to be encircled by Your arms.

Judge me fairly according to your mercy, and steadfastly reveal the truth in the courts.

No one is like you my God, You only can I praise.


I lift my eyes in earnest, and look to You my God.

My heart resounds with praise, and sings with sure joy.

My God and my King.


– © Ruth Lindsay   April 2015


I wrote this poem during a time where I cried out to God for intervention over a matter I was going though. Some sections of this poem are not literal – eg. “giants”. For me the giants are the things that seem bigger than big. Sometimes they are people, but mostly they are problems, the unknown, lack of faith, uncertainty or even a lack of wisdom. Sometimes is is gossip and slander.


This poem came from the heart and I am sharing this with you. I hope that you will be blessed as I was in writing it.





It left a mark.



This time last year we had two massive hailstorms that went through our small country town. The last one was huge and left most of the trees in our town without leaves, and damaged many houses and cars. People in our town can tell tales of survival.. embellished by time, of course.

I have several plants that sit on the veranda of my house, shaded from the hot sun and strong winds, and a few that sit on the outer part of the veranda. They are the hardier of plants as they are just like the plants in our garden. Two of those plants, recently caught my attention. One is a miniature rose bush and the other a blueberry bush.

Last year my blueberry bush was about to produce another bumper crop of berries and was thick with foliage and fruit. (pictured above)My miniature rose bush was a gift from my wonderful and loving bible study ladies only a week before the storm. Its branches were covered with beautiful flowers in full bloom.

During the last storm, both received a lot of damage and I was concerned that they would survive. The rose bush was a forked stick poking sorrowfully out of the soil, with not a leaf or flower in sight. My blueberry bush was a mess of broken branches, or dangling by a thread. It’s smashed and damaged fruit littered the large pot it sat in.

I carefully pruned both bushes, removing the damaged branches, and cleared the pots of debris. I sighed as I picked up the unripened fruit and felt grief at the loss.

Everywhere around our big native garden was destruction. Every flowered bush was stripped of its leaves and flowers. Every tree had smaller branches broken, while their smashed leaves provided a earie green carpet on the ground. One tree had fallen across the pathway to our garage and was obviously never going to stand again. The birds that usually fill our garden with noise were strangely quiet. Hail lay in piles, freezing our toes while the air was filled with the humidity that comes after a spring storm.

A year later the garden is blooming again. Apart from the one tree that fell, all the others survived and no sign of the storm a year ago can be seen. Once again the sounds of busy and happy birds fill our ears with sound and everything is bursting with life and colour.

It is the blueberry bush and the rose bush that has been the focus of my heart and prayers over the past few week as God continues to speak to me about it.

I was pottering around my garden taking in the sounds and smells of spring, when I came to the two bushes growing on my veranda. Suddenly I realised that the blueberry bush should have buds ready for fruit…some flowers… something to show what type of bush it was. It didn’t. Every other plant in the garden was doing so. Why not my blueberry bush?

I sat on the wooden floor boards beside the bush and looked at it… this is what I saw –


Leaves had returned and it had not died, but it’s branches showed the signs of were the hail had hit it. Marks covered the branches and holes were gouged into the main trunk. I had pruned it back to the basic branches, but they were badly damaged. Yet it had survived, and was growing healthy leaves. But there wasn’t a flower in sight and no buds of fruit.

The branches of the blueberry touched a spot in my heart and I sat mesmerised by the ugly marks. A question popped into my head and I stood up to see what the answer was to the question – What about the branches of the rose bush?


The rose bush (picture above)did not have a single mark on its branches. Not one. The foliage, while still a little sparse, was healthy and the flower buds were plenty. The two flowers that were open, were beautiful and almost perfect. The smell –  divine.

My eyes flicked back to the blueberry bush and God placed a thought in my heart. “some people are like these bushes when storms come.” Then He was silent.

Over the last two weeks, the Lord has continued to speak to me about these bushes every time I see them both. God doesn’t always speak everything at once to me, sometimes it is in dribs and drabs. Little moments of clarity and simple thoughts, along with a gentle reminder that healing sometimes comes slowly.

Like my two bushes I have had some giant hailstorms that have hit my life. For those who want to look closely, you will find marks. You will also find foliage and flowers, and fruit. It depends on what you want to look at. Most people want to admire the flowers and the foliage and turn their eyes away from the marks left by the terrible times that would have nearly destroyed me.

God’s daughter come in all shapes and sizes. We are a varied as there are types of trees in this world. If you got us all in a room, you would go, “WOW!”. But look closely at our branches, especially for those of us that have just gone through a hailstorm, and you will find marks, some of them may even be a bit …ugly? Don’t look away, they are signs of storm damage, they are marks of bravery and strength, they are proof of survival.

Along with our shapes and sizes come the type of branches we have. The blueberry bush branches are bigger than the rose. So, when the hail fell, the blueberry bush stood up to the pounding better, but wore the consequences. Just because any of us bare the scares of the storms, doesn’t mean we were more beaten, just that we took more of a pounding.

Here is the final lesson that came from these little bushes. God is always a better gardener than me. Actually… I am not a gardener at all. I have plants. Some survive and some don’t. I am not sure what I do wrong, but some never survive my “tender loving care”. Since my poor little plants look a little lackluster, I presume I need to visit the local nursery and ask some questions.

My God knows me and know what needs to happen. While I don’t really know if I pruned it properly, God knows what need to be pruned from my life to bring about full and beautiful foliage and the best fruit and flowers. While I doubted whether my plants would survive after such a storm, God knew all along that I would survive. God is the perfect gardener and He is always looking for ways to help me grow and survive whatever I go through.

You know what? Don’t worry about the marks. We can’t be self-focused or all we will see is the marks and everything that we are not. A rose bush and a blueberry bush are not concerned about the marks, they are just doing what God made them to do. What about you?



“Look at the birds of the air…Are you not much more valuable than they?” Matthew 6:26

“But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Matthew 6:33-34


Be blessed!



As God has always planned.



As God has always planned


I felt God melt my hardened heart, as the words seemed so surreal.
My God stood still as I moved closer, drawn by His love so real.

He welcomed me and warmly breathed, on my stiff and frozen frame.
I turned my face up to my Saviour, as the tears freely came.

All my faults became so clear, and my many sins dark indeed.
My Saviour died and bled for me, I now could clearly see.

That all along He sort to change, the darkness into light.
He wouldn’t hold me as a captive, as I thought He might.

He whispered, “You’re forgiven”, as He gave me a new name.
“My child, you are now Beautiful”, as he took all my guilt and shame.

I shook my head in disbelief; I saw nothing new in me.
“You see, My child, you haven’t seen, the changes that I see.”

“It reveals the beauty of a Son warmed heart, and will grow from My sure touch.”
I nodded my head as this sank in, I needed Him so much.

“Have all of me!” shouted my heart, as I realised I could trust.
This Almighty God, loving Saviour, and Holy Spirit so just.

How could I give Him any less, who gives without complaint.
My heart, my life, and my past – my future without restraint.

I know this Father knows me well, better than I know myself.
He knows well what to fix in me, and draws me to Himself.

What is done in my wayward heart, is not the work of my strong arms
But His Spirit guides and directs me, and keeps my soul from harm.

It only takes me to obey, and listen to God my Saviour.
‘Cause He will always work in me, and change my misbehaviour.

He is my loving, compassionate God, forever will I stand
Upon the promises in His word, the way he always planned.

-Ruth Lindsay © 2016

I am not perfect.



(Editors note – I was hesitant to share this as it is intensely personal. Recently I have become more aware that I am not the only parent who under attack. One mum, in frustration, shared with me this – “I had to bite my tongue and walk away, I cried for days feeling like I had failed at the only job I thought I was good at – being a mum!!”. I hope that you will hear my intent of this message – Take a moment before you speak and think about what you are saying, your words may not be as wise as you think. Bless you. )



Recently I have been made aware, quite painfully aware, of people critiquing my parenting abilities.. Or apparently lack of parental skills. Yay me!!

It seems that there is the presumption that I too should be perfect, as I am under the spotlight too.I am not perfect. Never have been, and never will be while I am on this earth. I live with the desire to be better in every way. I live to grow and be challenged to be better than what I am. But perfect? Really?

Now…. You just picked on my child. Have you no idea that inside of this imperfect body lives a mother bear that would really like to verbally rip you up one side and down the other? What is also inside, is a mother’s heart with the desire to see her children come to their full potential as men.

While my children, at this time, are still somewhat very young men. They are not too young to complain at the lack of justice in this world, how they feel being picked on and wonder how they are going to change another’s point of view.

While I, their mother, attempt to teach them never to do the same as you have just done – that is, to never waste their time on life sucking pursuits as being critical and condemning.

• I have taught them to be wise in seeking out the right fights; that is the fight to live and the fight to protect the weak.
• I have taught them to look at the strengths and needs of those that are in their care.
• I have taught them respect and manners so that they will treat others well.
• I have taught them to look after the elderly, as I need them one day to look after me.

So, they are soft, are they? Soft, compared to what? What makes a man hard, is what makes a man lack wisdom, discernment and trust, and to cripple him from having any sense of the desire to protect those in his care. Since when is the hardness of character and heart a virtue?

• I have taught them to have patience with others.
• I have taught them not to turn away from something or someone who is distressed.
• I have taught them not fear feelings and emotions, but to learn to use them wisely.

So they are too rebellious, are they? Mmm… do I not deal with this effectively while allowing them to have the ability to learn to make the right decisions with their own brain?

• I have taught them to think for themselves.
• I have taught them to steer away from the pressure of the crowd.
• I have taught them the importance of learning.
• I have taught them to be wise with their words.

So, they are too noisy, too lazy, and too messy?

• I have taught them to be active in sports of their choice and remain committed to that sport to the end of a season.
• I have taught them to enjoy the outdoors and sunshine.
• I have taught them to keep their rooms tidy and clean. (This is what they do)
• I have taught them to use the vacuum cleaner, dishwasher, washing machine and stove.
• I have taught them to chop wood for the fire, check the oil on the engine, change a tyre, and look after what they have been given.
• I have taught them to cook me breakfast in bed on Mother’s day in the hope that they will one day do that for their wife.

“They are too rough.” “They don’t keep still for too long.” “Don’t fuss over them.” Really?

They were born male. They grew from babyhood to boyhood, I am now raising men.You will see cuts, bumps and bruises. They are testing boundaries, loving challenges, and scaring their mother. You will find me at the doctors and at the emergency room as often as they test their own abilities to stay alive. You will find in my house and in my car, a LARGE medicine bag with all the necessary bandaging and creams for active boys. I even have a smaller one in my purse, just in case.

When I hear you criticize the need for the large bandage that covers a healing knee, or poke fun at the sports strapping on their growing body… or when you suggest that their asthma medication is not necessary, then you are not thinking clearly. Then there is the criticism for the painkiller I keep in my purse for sudden migraine headaches.

• I am teaching them that is okay to take care of themselves.
• I am teaching them to think carefully about medical advice from someone who has no medical degree.
• I am teaching them to not ignore pain, or illness or frailty.

When I teach them these things I hope that they will survive their own care later in life.

• I am teaching them shortness of breath means that their life may depend upon having the right medication with them and that they needed to think ahead and be prepared.
• I am teaching them that it is wise to keep small amounts of first aid supplies on them.
• I am teaching them that infection is not to be taken lightly.
• I am teaching them that pain is the body’s way of saying “stop and think”.
• I am teaching them that everyone has faults, failing, and weaknesses – and that is perfectly ok.

Oh.. and by the way.. I am also teaching them that they are allowed to cry if they are in pain. Is that okay by you?

When you judge someone by what you think, you are not caring about that person, only of your own opinions and beliefs. You are also showing me that I would not put those that I love in your care, as those who I love are very precious to me indeed.

My sons believe that I am a good mum.
They love me. They know that I love them.
They are grateful for most of what I do for them.
They love the food I give them (except when I make them eat their greens)
They often tell me not to defend them as that is embarrassing.
They tell me not to fuss, but love the fact that I do.

They also know that they are safe with me when they are in a bad mood, or not having a good day, or when they need to let off steam. I am their safe place. There is one thing that I forget to add to all this – they are being taught by an imperfect mother.

Yes, I am imperfect.

I too am soft, rebellious, messy, emotional and thoughtless. Every day I seek God for the wisdom to behave and parent better. I am grateful for the changes in me. I am grateful that every day that God, through the power of the Holy Spirit, convicts me and challenges me to be the person I can be – then I will become less perfect because I become less and He becomes more. All the while, I am becoming less messy, soft in the right ways, less over-emotional, more obedient, and more able to be corrected. And before I die I might actually become perfect – actually there is not a chance of that!!

Yes, I am imperfect.

I too am frail, prone to injuries and illnesses. They get their asthma and migraines from me. I pray for them and me. I pray for good health and strong bodies. I have many times while waiting for pain or suffering to pass I am praying for them. Sometime God has taken it away and healed them, and sometime he hasn’t.

Yes, I am imperfect.

The boys get their height from both sides of the family. I was fully grown by the time I was 13 years old. My eldest is 6 foot at 13 years old. My youngest is 5 foot 5 inches at 11 years of age. Sometime they have sore knees and ankles which make their active lifestyle a painful time. They both have Severs which causes pain so bad that they can hardly walk after heavy exercise.

“Silence for the sake of peace” would say that I stay silent and not defend my children. Sense would tell me to defend those in my care. When you expect me to stay silent you are expecting me to not care. This criticism is coming from men, women, the children’s peers, from school bullies and from people outside my friends and close acquaintances. What they are saying is only their opinion.

• I have taught my children that opinions are like noses – everyone has one.
• I have taught my children that someone else’s opinion must be looked at but treated as an opinion only and not always fact.
• I have taught my children to listen carefully to criticism, but be wary of those that condemn.

Yes, I am imperfect.

As you read through this article, you may wonder at my education. I have very little education. My schooling finished at year 7, when my father decided that his eldest daughter needed to work for the family. I do not always get my words or sentences right and my punctuation is usually not correct. This is total article is unedited, as I am imperfect.

Yes, I am imperfect.

I don’t like people criticising me. I don’t like gossip. And these two things make me angry. I listen to someone’s opinion of something and I take it too seriously. My opinion of myself is based on the fact that I am loved by my God and He finds me acceptable and helps me where I am not. I am loved by my children, my family and my friends. More importantly, I am love by me.

Next time you seek to give me some helpful advice, I will smile and thank you for your words even if your words have hurt me. Yes, I am imperfect… but sometimes silence is much better than regretting the words I may speak in haste. Until I learn to do something different, I will do what I have always done. Maybe I am learning to become more perfect …sometimes.. but not today. Today, I will share my heart and pray that you hear.

If you do hear, can I encourage you to speak words that build a person up and encourage them – I think that this would be perfect.


Note from Admin: Please read site rules. Be blessed.

Taste and see

Tortilla sandwiches with fried chicken and vegetables on wooden background with blank space


In my children’s early years, I often tried to get them to eat new food. My insistence in wanting them to eat the food in front of them, was met with the same amount of determination from them not to eat it.

Recently my 13-year-old was adamant that he did not like a particular type of food. His 6-foot-tall body lounged against my kitchen bench top and he folded his arms defensively, while I decided to dare him to try something new. While being polite with me, he was determined that he was not going to eat it.

After he left the kitchen, I looked at uneaten food, shook my head and raised my eyes to the ceiling. Suddenly, I realised that God had just spoken in a split second and yet it was like He had spoken for a long time. It was such a weird sensation and came with a knowing of what God was saying and what He was revealing in my heart… yet it only lasted a second of time.

I saw a glimpse of me… and God as my parent.

“Try this Ruth”
“I don’t know God”
“It is good for you”
“It doesn’t look good… It looks really, REALLY different”
“Try it”
“Do I have to?” (oops, do I hear whining)
“I am pretty sure I am not going to like it, God.”
“Ok” ( I screw up my face and reach forward with my mouth open)

It does taste good. Very different. It has a full flavour of God’s goodness. Peace … like..mmm… unbelievable peace dances across my mind and through my body, humming with …oh….my….WOW.. WHAT was that…

My eyes make contact with my Father God. “What is THAT?

He smiles. “ A touch of my Spirit”

I swallow mesmerised by what He has just done, I want to laugh, but my God’s presence is serious.

“Daughter, after all you know about Me you still doubt who I am. I am not going to harm you, I know you better than you would ever know yourself. “

I am quiet, close to tears, but excited… I want more.

“Taste and see that I am good, Ruth. There is far more than you can see with your own two eyes. You pull back when I ask you to trust.”

“I am scared, Father.”

There is silence and I feel foolish. I know I am making excuses. So, I shut my month.

“My children do not want to taste what I have to offer them, my own people are happy with a bland diet of watered down Me. They are malnourished and sickly. Satan offers them lollies and they are happy with this.”

“If my people are not sharing their testimony of God’s delights, they will think that it is only Satan that gives something. His kitchen is open, it smells good from a distance and but is rotten to the core.”

“Drink from Me Ruth and eat of what I give you. You will grow strong on what I have to offer.”

Suddenly I realize that all God has shown me is clear in my heart. Yes, taste and see that the Lord is good… (Ps 34:8)

You cannot only half taste of God and know enough to tell others.

A little of God will not satisfy you and you will not be able to resist the food from the enemy’s kitchen.

Not only that, if I were really hungry I would devour what God offers to my starving heart.

There are times when I am hungry for God, and sometimes I am happy to sit well fed and content. God waits for me to come to Him and ask Him to fed me, and He does, but not always what I want. He is not going to pander to my cravings for chocolate, or desires for sweet things. He will give my spirit, soul and body what it needs.

It will always balanced, nutritional and enough to satisfy. It will draw me to go from the safe and secure to trust that He will sometimes call me out of my comfort zone to trust Him.

There is also the persecution that will come, because I am a God-atarian or, Father-ivorous.

Godatarian (noun)
one whose dietary spiritual needs are satisfied by God Almighty, the Lord Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit.

Fatherivorous (adj)
a person who gains strength and spiritual nourishment from “Abba” (Father).

People laugh at our dietary needs and mock our spiritual intake. They may, one day, want to throw us in jail and kill us for our desire to live a certain way. God knows this, and is strengthening us for what we need in the future and not just now.

My God is a good parent who loves me without limits. He gives freely to me what I need, not what I want. What He offers to me is life long and has an excellent eternity seal to it.

Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in Him. Psalm 34:8

Be Blessed.


Site rules

Thanks for visiting my blog page.

This blog page was set up to help others and to encourage people as they walk with God.

Feel free to comment on my posts.. however I have rules and they go like this


Rule number 1.

Be nice

Rule number 2.

Be very nice

Rule number 3.

Be an encouragement to others.

Rule number 4.

If you are not nice I will delete your post and ban you from my site.

Rule number 5.

I will deal with troublemakers.. I want YOU to ignore them.

Finally… my education is limited as I only have a primary school education. I make both grammer and sentence structure errors, regularly!! This blog is not about getting it right, but saying what is in my heart. I have friends who have both the love for me and the ability to help , if they see those mistakes. Please look past the mistakes and be gracious.

Thank you. Be blessed.




Hi, my name is Ruth Lindsay. Welcome to my blog page.

I am a wife, and stay-at-home mum of two boys. I am also an author of  “He Whispers Our Name”, a book that encourages women to seek God and find that He has been waiting for them to answer Him.

As founder of “Be Alive Ministries”, my heart is to encourage, reach, teach and inspire women of all ages to be alive – alive in Him, alive with each other, and alive in this world. My ministry is a faith based ministry and I travel where I can to share and encourage other.

I have a Web page – and a Facebook page “Be Alive Ministries”.

Be blessed!