Meet the Author's Author

Meet the Author's Author
Live for Jesus! That's what matters! That you see the light in me and come along! :)

Friday, March 30, 2012

You Have Control, Sir.

I can see your heart is yearning.
Everything is so unclear.
Is the answer ever coming
After all these years?

So begins one of my favourite songs by the band 33 Miles.

At the beginning of this year, I asked God for three things, which I believe He promised me. Two of them, I will tell you.

One was that He would change me.

The second, that He would bring my family back to Him and me.

Yesterday God was very near. My heart was alive and full of joy as well as pain, for I could see two of those three coming closer.
Today He seems close but distant in a sense - because I'm struggling to talk to Him. I lose words so often nowadays. I can force them out, but they seem so empty. And the pain and tears are back. And the confusion and the helplessness.

Then we start the struggle.

My struggle to trust and love and serve Him and let go, at the same time that I'm fighting for the controls.

I went flying once and gliding twice. Each and every time we have a brief, to remind us of what to do, wear and say, and what NOT to do, wear and say.

Especially when they allow you to take the controls - which by the way is an awesome experience.

Just you and the pilot in this tiny space, close side by side, in a seat so low your knees are almost parallel with your face. You have to be soo careful not to touch the controls...with the earmuffs over your ears, all you can hear is the pilot communicating with you and the roar of the aircraft.

Then he gives you control of the aircraft.

The response of the plane to the touch is so instantaneous; the lightest brush of a touch can send it spiralling down or upwards. The view is amazing, the experience trebly worth it.

But imagine this.

Everyone goes for their own little flight. There's many clouds along the way.
Everyone is on their first experience of flying. It also happens to be their last.
The problem is, the routine is backwards. Every learner starts off flying the aircraft.
The pilot's still next to them. They just won't let him have the controls. Even though he made the plane and knows how to fly it. And most everyone manages to ditch that plane. And they never get to soar to the heights.

But there's some people that actually understand that they don't know how to fly the plane. And they ask the pilot to take control.

"You have control, sir."

And he smiles, and answers.

"I have control."

Then he tells them to keep their hands on the instruments so they can feel his moves, and he directs the moves.

Then they see the storm approaching. And freak out.


They snatch the control back. And he lets go, but still keeps his hands there, feeling the moves, the pain as he watches his plane and the inexperienced pilot struggling and heading downwards...

"You have control."

They answer, defiant, confidant, certain:
"_I_ have control, sir!"

But soon the storm becomes too powerful, and the plane is in a spiral nosedive towards the ground. And they turn back, tearful, to the pilot.

"You have control, sir."

And he smiles, and quietly replies,

"I have control."

That struggle is often repeated. So often, we want to take control of our lives. Of our destiny. We freak out at the storm that life is sending and snatch the controls - and send our lives in a spiral heading for the ground. God's Hands are still on the controls. He's just waiting for us to acknowledge His presence, His power, His hallmark on the aircraft of life and to relax our grip on them. For us to tell Him,

"You have control, Sir."

For us to sit back, keep our hands on the control, feel His moves and marvel at His power.

I walked back home in tears tonight. Hope given was taken away - again. But I had to re-surrender my hopes, passions, abilities, dreams and prayers - my family members, those I love, each and every situation, work, home, love, past, future and the painful present - individually to Him.

I may come back sometimes to a lonely house and empty arms, but I will never have an empty soul. God Almighty lives therein. No matter how hard it gets and how lonely the path, I must still surrender the controls back to Him.

"You have control, Sir."

It's worth the wait!
Just keep believing.
God has perfect timing - never early, never late.
It takes a little patience and it takes a lot of faith,
But it's worth the wait.

In His time, you'll be fine.
All this waiting now, is by design.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012


That time we were all out going around that castle, and we both were trying to photograph each other sneakily, shoving the cameras into each other's faces, laughing.

Driving along the road; when it was just us two, you used to let me wind down the window (cause I'd sit in the front of the car) and lean out of the window. I loved that, the breeze and the force taking my breath away.

We used to listen to our favourite music that no one else liked - military bands and choral/orchestral pieces. We sang - Here Is Love, We'll Keep a Welcome in the Hillside. You taught me the Welsh National Anthem.

You'd surprise me, with sausage rolls, creme eggs, my favourite chocolate bars.

One of my favourite things to do with you was for us to come home and we'd have fish and chips and watch a film. When Mommy wasn't there it was a Western.

We shared the same sense of humour. Laurel and Hardy, Monty Python. No one shares that with me now.

You used to come outside quietly, just to listen to me singing. You took me for accordion lessons.

We'd do the gardening together - when you found the time...why couldn't you find it?...and the inclination. I'd rake it and so would Jose.

Oh, what fun Joseph and I had in the garden with the snails and Daddy, don't you remember that time that we sneaked out on you - Mommy and Jose out the back door and me from the upstairs window - and squirted you with water pistols?

All the drives to the various places. Avoncroft Museum. Duxford. Andover. Dover. Shortwood Farm. Jodrell Bank. Cumbria. The Scottish Borders. Wales. land.

I missed the Daddy then but I was happy with the Daddy I had. First I adored you, then I was confused about you, then I despised you, then I pitied you. It was only when your lust conflicted with my stubborn will because I wouldn't go to bed on time so you could go online, that our battles raged.

And over the fact that you tried to make me do all the housework you didn't want to do.

Mom has sacrificed loads for me - more than I can count. I adore her. But I'm not grieving for her.
I'm not allowed to grieve for you. I'm supposed to be angry with you.
But you're three Daddies in one.

The Daddy who disliked the messy toys. The Daddy who seemed to like punishing us. The intolerant Daddy.
The Daddy who did all those things I mentioned. The kind Daddy. The Daddy that liked little surprises. The Daddy who - could have been.
The dark Daddy. The side I can't bring and don't want to bring and hopefully will never bring myself to reconcile with.

Mamma (she's got past the childish Mummy or Mommy now, she doesn't like it, so I'm finding different ways to change it) hates hearing your name, and I can't stand all the constant horribleness of it so she only talks when something new's happened or when she's going to explode. And I don't talk about you at all.

I'm trying to shut you out, Daddy, but that means I'm losing all the good times into a mist too. I've lost so many...just trying to remember the last few.

I guess, I always will love you. Just...wish you'd change. And come back. And be the good Daddy and lose the other two. I know God can do it. But He can't unless you want to.

Your daughter,
Sian Garner-Jones

Tuesday, March 20, 2012


I keep thinking, there's a lot of people I miss, when I have time and stop and think about those that used to frequently traverse my life, and made such a difference...and are now no longer there. Just...faded out.
Or left.

I want to go after them...and I wonder. Is it worth it? Am I to make the moves and wait and see?

They mean a lot to me and always will. Whether it be time, life, choice or me that's taken you away.
I still love you, even though our walks have gone differently and may never cross again. :) And I'm pretty sure some of you still love me. <3

Or is this it...the cauldron of life that will show those who stay through to the solid end.

I could probably name on two hands (and that's very blessed) those who have never left. I'm not going to try for fear of leaving some very special person out. :)

Even people that speak on occasion - like Dri. Sandy. Anjel.

You know who you are - all you who stayed, all of you who made sacrifices and laid down your personal time and energy and spent it with me. Thank you. More than I can ever know or say.

May God richly, richly bless you.

~Mademoiselle Siân

Sunday, March 18, 2012

Tortured Mind

And the pitch gets louder,, and longer, and higher
And three different noises going on at once
And incessant talking
Cause of her loneliness
But it's lonely when she doesn't talk
And lonely when she does
And one job equates so many
And she goes deaf and doesn't respond
And adds to the loneliness
And the silence is great
And so much to do
And she starts to jump
The incessant noise
The aching griefs
The unbearable silence
The talking silence
Then she jumps, uncontrolled
And the tears pour without ceasing
And the comments start to come
And the gossip chain starts
But she doesn't want to talk
Not to just ANYONE.
But they don't understand
And try and barge in
And she's screaming to go
And someone to come
And missing someone.
And they say it's selfcentred
And she knows it is,
and curses herself for it
The drums of the Master in the head of a mad woman.
She only wanted sanity.
Self harm
None work
Just numb
Want to heal
How to heal?
So much distance
Now everyone.
Just her?
Or everyone else?
Going mad.
Wonder if she'll be pleading for them to take her in the end.
So much she wanted to do from this life
So much she wanted to do for God.
Wants to lead those who lean for gentle support,
Wants to help the weak and be kind to the strong,
Encourage and strengthen and point up to Christ.
Collapse on the brink
Nothing there...
God near and distant.
Failure in so much.
At least worth something to God.
Half a soul poured out and still in the confusion
So many won't see the real thing
But will judge off the confusion
Not seeing God
Just seeing the mess...
But on the brink
How can she do that?
Days seem WASTED.
Nights spent in collapsed sleep.
Disadvantages to having only friends in another country.
Too many disapproving stares
Trying to monitor and make sure you stay in the lines.
How about - unconditional love?
Can't fit in your lines.
Not unless she shuts down completely.
Can't seem to do that.
Voice goes to a high pitched thread
Music on loud
Deafening yourself?
Yeah...old age...don't want to live to see it.
Can't see an me an end.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Warring Twins ~ A Short Story

Once upon a time, there were two men.
They were born together, lived together, ate together, worked together, slept together. They were Siamese twins, perfect reproductions of each other in every mannerism. Except two things were strange.

They looked the same as one man. Each had exactly half of that one body that they shared.

The one had been born years before the other, corrupted from what it was meant to be.
The soul that they shared was rotten through, but there remained within a touch of the original design, a thread of what it was meant to running through its core.

One day, the breath of the original Designer, the One Who made the whole man with the perfect soul before the Corruption fell upon it, stirred the dust and bit through the grit on that soul.

He brought it to life, once again, and the original Soul, faced with the choice between the Old Familiar, that is and never should have been, and the New Unknown, which is ageless and timeless, chose the New Unknown and reached out for the original Designer.

At that point, the second Twin was born.

Now began a battle. A battle royal that was to continue for the rest of their lives. Oh, what a war...

Meshed within one body, the Twins hated one another, constantly straining, warring, disputing, subjecting one another.

The second Twin strove for purity. For love, for trust, for prayer and passion, for honour and right, to constantly strive to follow the Master he loved as much as the weak confines of his fleshly limits allowed, as much as the corrupted, tainted Soul with that thread of Righteousness could expand.

The second Twin strove to open the doors to that Soul, that the beaming Light of the Original Designer would rush in and obliterate and cleanse the taint of Corruption.

The first Twin strove for familiarity and comfort. For self, for fear, for security, for obsessiveness. To use others, to create a world centred around self and close down eyes and ears to everything and everyone else.

The first Twin was powerful, for he had controlled the entire body, while not possessing it, for years, and he was not willing in the slightest, he that wished to bend the world to his regime and mind, to relinquish the slightest hold on something this near to him.

The second Twin was weak. He was new, he was fighting against half of a mind that had controlled his body for years. But his strength was so much more powerful than the First, in this.

The original Designer fought for him. Nothing he did, he was able to do of himself and in himself. But his will and his heart, feeble as they were, were for the original Designer and trusted in His strength to bring them through.

The second Twin failed often, as his weaker mind was paralysed by the tentacles of the First, who would, on many occasions, reach out and try to bring him under the old ways, and he, because of his unusedness to this life and the mighty struggle he was born into, caved in.

But he never gave in. The original Designer had brought him to life, and loved and guided him through every battle, forgiving those he lost, helping him win those that he gave over to Him. And he knew Who would win the war, between the original Designer and the foul Corruption.

The first Twin fought on to the bitter end. He could never change. The good perfectness had completely gone from him. He was corrupted to the core.

It is a struggle for life and death, and it only ends when the fleshly aspect ceases to be, torn asunder by the bitter conflict, and the struggle is taken before the perfect original Designer.

A war in the soul.

For we know that the Law is spiritual, but I am of flesh, sold into bondage to sin. For what I am doing, I do not understand; for I am not practicing what I would like to do, but I am doing the very thing I hate.

But if I do the very thing I do not want to do, I agree with the Law, confessing that the Law is good. So now, no longer am I the one doing it, but sin which dwells in me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh; for the willing is present in me, but the doing of the good is not.

For the good that I want, I do not do, but I practice the very evil that I do not want. But if I am doing the very thing I do not want, I am no longer the one doing it, but sin which dwells in me.

I find then the principle that evil is present in me, the one who wants to do good. For I joyfully concur with the law of God in the inner man, but I see a different law in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin which is in my members.

Wretched man that I am! Who will set me free from the body of this death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, on the one hand I myself with my mind am serving the law of God, but on the other, with my flesh the law of sin.

Romans 7:14-25

In Christ,
~Mademoiselle Siân

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Man or Boy?

Boys play house.
Men build homes.

Boys "shack up".
Men get married.

Boys make babies.
Men raise children.

A boy won't raise his own children.
A man will raise someone else's.

Boys invent excuses for failure.
Men produce strategies for success.

Boys look for someone to take care of them.
Men look for someone to take care of.

Boys seek popularity.
Men demand respect and know how to give it.

Boys go with the flow.
Men stand out and make a difference - no matter how big or small.

Boys want the benefits of adulthood and the freedoms of childhood.
Men take on the responsibilities of both.

I found this on a picture post on Facebook.
And women?
What are your thoughts on women vs girls? Can we make another post? :)

Monday, March 05, 2012

Comfort, Oh Comfort My People

Just taking a small selection of Scriptures that have comforted and strengthened me recently and combining them together.

"Why has my pain been perpetual and my wound incurable, refusing to be healed?

Therefore, thus says the LORD, “If you return, then I will restore you — before Me you will stand; and if you extract the precious from the worthless,you will become My spokesman. They for their part may turn to you, but as for you, you must not turn to them.

"Then I will make you to this people a fortified wall of bronze; and though they fight against you, they will not prevail over you; for I am with you to save you and deliver you,” declares the LORD.

"So I will deliver you from the hand of the wicked, and I will redeem you from the grasp of the violent.”

Lift up your eyes on high and see who has created these stars, the One who leads forth their host by number, He calls them all by name; because of the greatness of His might and the strength of His power, not one of them is missing.

Why do you say, O Jacob, and assert, O Israel, “My way is hidden from the LORD, and the justice due me escapes the notice of my God”?

Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Everlasting God, the LORD, the Creator of the ends of the earth does not become weary or tired. His understanding is inscrutable.

He gives strength to the weary, and to him who lacks might He increases power. Though youths grow weary and tired, and vigorous young men stumble badly, yet those who wait for the LORD will gain new strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary.

‘I, the LORD, am the first, and with the last. I am He. I have chosen you and not rejected you. Do not fear, for I am with you; do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand. Behold, all those who are angered at you will be shamed and dishonoured; those who contend with you will be as nothing and will perish.

For I am the LORD your God, who upholds your right hand, Who says to you, ‘Do not fear, I will help you.’ Do not fear, you worm Jacob, you men of Israel; I will help you,” declares the LORD, “and your Redeemer is the Holy One of Israel.

I will make the wilderness a pool of water and the dry land fountains of water.

A bruised reed He will not break and a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish; He will faithfully bring forth justice. Fear not, for you will not be put to shame; and do not feel humiliated, for you will not be disgraced; but you will forget the shame of your youth, and the reproach of your widowhood you will remember no more.

For your husband is your Maker, Whose name is the LORD of hosts; and your Redeemer is the Holy One of Israel, Who is called the God of all the earth.

For the LORD has called you, like a wife forsaken and grieved in spirit, even like a wife of one’s youth when she is rejected,” says your God.

“For a brief moment I forsook you, but with great compassion I will gather you. In an outburst of anger I hid My face from you for a moment, but with everlastinglovingkindness I will have compassion on you,” says the LORD your Redeemer.

O afflicted one, storm-tossed, and not comforted, behold, I will set your stones in antimony, and your foundations I will lay in sapphires. Moreover, I will make your battlements of rubies, and your gates of crystal, and your entire wall of precious stones.

All your sons will be taught of the LORD; and the well-being of your sons will be great. In righteousness you will be established; you will be far from oppression, for you will not fear; and from terror, for it will not come near you.

If anyone fiercely assails you it will not be from Me. Whoever assails you will fall because of you. Behold, I Myself have created the smith who blows the fire of coals and brings out a weapon for its work; and I have created the destroyer to ruin.

No weapon that is formed against you will prosper; and every tongue that accuses you in judgment you will condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD, and their vindication is from Me,” declares the LORD.

Seek the LORD while He may be found; call upon Him while He is near. Let the wicked forsake his way and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return to the LORD, and He will have compassion on him, and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon.

For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways,” declares the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.

For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there without watering the earth and making it bear and sprout, and furnishing seed to the sower and bread to the eater; so will My word be which goes forth from My mouth; it will not return to Me empty, without accomplishing what I desire, and without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it.

Let not the foreigner who has joined himself to the LORD say, “The LORD will surely separate me from His people.” For thus says the LORD, Also the foreigners who join themselves to the LORD, to minister to Him, and to love the name of the LORD, to be His servants, every one who keeps from profaning the sabbath and holds fast My covenant; even those I will bring to My holy mountain and make them joyful in My house of prayer.

Their burnt offerings and their sacrifices will be acceptable on My altar; for My house will be called a house of prayer for all the peoples.”

All flesh is grass, and all its loveliness is like the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the LORD blows upon it; surely the people are grass.

The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever."

From the books of Isaiah and Jeremiah.

In Christ,
Mademoiselle Siân

Saturday, March 03, 2012

Awe of Creation

Sometimes I keep getting glimpses of how great God is.
Particularly when I imagine this great world as a ball spinning on the tip of His finger.
Or when I imagine a single breath from Him and all of this being created. He could've THOUGHT it into existence. Instead, He chose to speak an entire sentence.

I was just hunting down one of the proverbs for another blog post, something I read in Mom's Bible as I ate breakfast, and it struck me.

The intimate complications of PROVERBS. One book we struggle to understand. One book inspired by God, from the complexity of a human mind.

One human.

How many of us are there?

Look at the blades of grass on a misty morning. Hazes dimming the sharp dark outlines of the trees, creating a golden blur for a morning sky. Blades of grass everywhere, coated from top to bottom with jewels of sparkling water. Tiny little blobs.



ALMOST EVERY BLADE. In ONE tiny street. In one tiny town. In one tiny county. In one tiny country. In one tiny world. In one tiny universe.

Not just that.

Think about the complexities that make up a blade of grass and a droplet of water. And think about the wealth of information that creates each part of those. And think about the depth of an atom.

And HOW many atoms make up how many things in this world??

You were God, alone. Three in One.

Then somewhere, in the midst of the infinity of no time, You created time.
That's mind blowing enough. For the human mind recognises the everlasting, but cannot comprehend no beginning.

Not only did You create and become the Lord of Time, You designed everything. All of the expanding universe. Every planet. Every galaxy. Every tiny blade of grass and every molecule.

Your signature is hidden, not in the Medusa cascade, but in every single breath of complex air we breathe, everything our eyes behold, every finite beauty You have created.

Signed, sealed and bought every wonderful, rare, intricately different human soul. You created us with pride. You loved us. You saw us turn inwards and start to destroy ourselves, with such grief and pity that You did what NONE of us can do. You BECAME Your creation to stop it!

You even let Your creation kill You. And You conquered the mortality they had brought on themselves to bring them back to infinity with You.

Humanity. Beginning but never ending.

You love us so much You will take us out of Your creation that WE destroyed to build us a new one.

Lord God Almighty! Is it any wonder that I crumple and weep at the awe of Your - awe?

Truly, if the human brain understood more than an atom of the Time Lord - we would burn up.

I hate to end.

~Mademoiselle Siân