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! :)

Saturday, October 26, 2013

The American Journey - And Grace Will Lead Me Home (Interlude)

Hey everyone!

I realise it's been a while since I've been doing the promised updates, and honestly, I am trying to write them down for you and salvage the memories, especially of the four day road trip with Matt and Kiehl, the people we saw (Kellyn Post, Theodora, Grace DeBusschere, Laura and Daniel's wedding, Emily Audirsch, Jay Lauser, Taylor Weller) and the final few days in Washington.

It has been an _amazing_ blessed relief and growing time. God's Hand is clearly visible in both growing, learning and preparing me for what was to come. Which is the part I'm in now.

I will try to update you, but to be honest, at the moment, God is deeply moving in the depths of my heart and the things that are dearest to me. I cannot...share some things without betraying others' secrets - including my own - or sharing dreams of delicate and wispy substance which may or may not be fantasy...and thus, as well as being deeply emotionally stirred and spiritually challenged with trusting, letting go and peace in God, I'm unable to update right now.

I will, particularly in quiet times and on the journey home, attempt to scribble down some update of facts of those days - and piece together some fragment or shape of these days to share. I honestly wish I could share this journey with you, because while being intensely shaking and sometimes, it would be intensely painful if God hadn't wrapped me in what I can only describe as a defense bubble, it brings me intense joy and peace beyond...comprehension.

It's a peace I've fought for with long and hard prayer...a peace my friends have fought for alongside me.

To be sure, the pain is still there - I'm aware of it - but it's not...hurting. I keep consistently trying to hand the emotions back to God as soon as I recognise them.

I pray you continue to hold me before the Master's throne, and that He will see fit to hear and grant an answer to my prayer.

In Him,
Mademoiselle Siân

Thursday, October 17, 2013

The American Journey - In the Circle of His Promise (Part 3)

As we started the descent into Newark Airport, I was looking out of the window onto the clouds and saw outlined on the clouds several times, the shadow of the aeroplane surrounded by the circle of a rainbow.

It was comforting, as scared as I was of Customs and security again, and as worried and confused as I am over the decision I have to make. God had provided for me to get exactly to where I was, and there was His promise on the clouds - and I was in the centre.

Walking through the airport, I was next to a British chap and his lady friend who nearly tripped me up accidentally with his suitcase and we were making jokes about it down to Customs. Then we hit the queue...
I kept watching the video while we moved slowly but steadily through the rows, thinking about last time and praying constantly.

Finally, I got to the officer, Laslo. It was...amazing. The first thing he did was ask me if I'd worn my USA tshirt especially for the occasion, which I answered, yes I had as I'd already been there that year for a writers' conference. Then he commented on my dogtag...and then my Doctor Who necklace.
The rest of the conversation was filled with Doctor Who references...most of which he picked up. His arm started randomly bleeding, and he had to clean and put a plaster on it while talking to me. The telephone suddenly rang and he asked me if that was for me...and I said no, but as he may need a Doctor, it was probably for him. :D
He wasn't a Who fan though...he asked me if I liked classical or new...and he was a Walking Dead fan. And in the end? He asked me if I'd like to stamp my own passport to allow my entry into the USA, as he only let his favourite people do that. :D :D :D
Never a question about money. GOD IS SO GOOD!!!

Finally, picking up my blue suitcase....entering the USA...and onto handing the suitcase back to the right place...praying desperately for it to make the right destination as I put it in a pileup of other suitcases to be picked up...then onto the next security check through. I'd landed at just gone 12 (New York time) and my next flight to San Francisco left at 2:30ish, so I was panicking somewhat. Unsure where to be, I was kinda looking around for someone and wondering why God didn't send someone like He did the first year...and then realised that that had been my first trip, and I've been travelling...quite a bit since then. :P I suppose I've matured a bit. :P
I found the right queue, passed through security WITHOUT a pat down this time, collected my items and went on to find the gate. I slept through the flight, as I remember, and passed through San Francisco airport with little problem...my only memory of feelings is an overwhelming sense of relief that I hadn't got to go through any more security checks. And that of concern for a woman who was running past me sobbing...I hope she made it okay.
The ceiling of the area had planes - WWII planes, both German, British and Yank, I think - hanging from it. That was fun. :D I wasn't certain I'd got the right gate at first, but eventually figured out that I had, settled down and changed time zone on my phone and logged into the free Wifi on laptop and phone.
By this time, the tiredness hit me - and thirst. I shot a message off to Matthew begging him to bring me some water when he collected me, as I'd only had four drinks that day, and it was nearly 24 hours. Which he promised, very thankfully.

Signed in my carryon at this stop while they were still asking for volunteers...and took my laptop out, which I then carried for the reminder of the journey.

I slept all the way through to Oregon. I have no memory of that flight at all, apart from being stuck between two rather rude people. :P I was rather thankful, as it was a two hour flight and I had nothing to do apart from write...and I was extremely tired.
I remember staggering into the airport, thankful it was the last flight, and thinking that it was time to get up for work, back home.

I was so tired and befuddled looking for my luggage, I even walked past Matthew who simply followed, grinning, behind me until he spoke and I was like WUT and whirled around. Then he held out the water. And my hands were full. OUCH.

Finally we got to the carousel, and I drank that bottle in two and an eighth swallows. :P

Snapped the final photographs of Oregon at night and headed out with Matt.

Driving with Matt is...breathtakingly amazing. He takes curves at speed. It's amazing. XD :D We stopped over the Washougal River...yah. I wish my camera had a night-snapping ability. The view was fantastic.

Finally we reached his home...and I got introduced to all five of the girls...and another boy to the three I knew. It was confusing. *laughs* I remember asking if there were any more.
Phoebe showed me her room, which I'm sharing, and I...don't really remember anything else. Except I wanted to sleep. And slept.

Monday:
It was kind of awkward for all of us at first, as it usually is when totally random strangers have to get used to each other. But as the day wore on, the barriers began to collapse.
I woke in the morning to Christina (the baby) and Phoebe sitting opposite me on Phoebe's bed, with Phoebe trying to teach Christina to read - something which she eventually gave up in despair as I was creating far too much excitement for her to have any success.
Mrs Lauser came in then to offer me the use of her bathroom, and when I was dressed, she asked me to do the geography section of the homeschooling lesson - "Life in Britain" while I ate yoghurt and honey for breakfast. That was fun. :D
Phoebe was very excited to do my hair.

Joseph, Mary, Charity and Christina had a great time showing me different things. I got to try a spearmint purpley coloured drink...listen to them playing all varieties of musical instruments...carry Charity and then Mary piggyback on the tour around the house...and my word, they can do amazing gymnastics! Naomi is so flexible!

And by the way, I totally love letting the kids loose with my camera (minus battery usage). The photos they come back with are AMAZING.

I have about thirty pictures of Matt smiling or grinning or laughing on my computer. >:3

When Matt got home from work, we ended up going to see the horses...my first and hopefully NOT last wild ride without a seatbelt in the back of a pickup truck. Oh, it was awesome. Bumpy roads, hair flying, clear sharp air...
And after that? Matt took us to an open spot to the right of the house and gave me my promised shooting lesson. YAY. I GOT TO SHOOT. But I didn't hit anything. :3 Unless it was twigs at the top of the tree. Phoebe did better...she hit the target once. *grins*

Then I helped chop up some herbs? I think! For tea/supper while Matt played the piano...and Doctor Who. :3

To finish off, we played a card game where you had ten cards to make up a sentence. My last sentence was the funniest..."William Shakespeare tickled nurses early in the morning spilling slick juice." ...yep. XD

We had a fun, relaxing day. I can't help but thank God for how at home they've made me feel...and how restful it is, both in the nature around and the people I'm with.


Tuesday:
My Facebook status read: It's very amusing comparing the identities between the Lauser cousins.
Like, Nathaniel and Charity both love making things for visitors.
And the quietness extends to both sides of the family.
And Jay looks more like Mr. Mark than he does his own parents.
And Matt taught me to shoot yesterday and I had a wild ride in the back of the pickup truck WITH NO SEATBELT.
And it's one month exactly on the day I arrived here to the day I arrived in Ireland.
And I love it here. :D

Phoebe reminds me a lot of Rachel Garner...and Naomi looks like Taylor Gatley and reminds me of Grace Garner. :P It's really funny, though, the comparisons I can draw between the cousins.

I came out of the room to be offered something by Joseph that looked like mustard but turned out to be liquidated pumpkin. :D That was funny. It tasted...weird but nice!

Yoghurt with honey...and fresh coffee with honey and cream...YUM. I like my breakfasts here.

Mary made me a flower and attached it to a hairclip...so that's what I wore in my hair all day.

The rest of the day was divided between trying to clean up online stuff and pirate treasure hunts that Charity made - a map and paper treasures, such as a crown, a dog, a cat and accompanying accessories. Both sides of the Lauser family are so inventive!
I was helping to spice up the chicken when Matt came home...and then we left for the post office, the garage and finally, to meet Perry at the Olive Garden, plus Kellen, unseen baby and husband Tyler. It was an amazing time, though most of the time we were watching the baby. The visible one. ;) He was so adorable!
But then, so was Perry. :D

When I came home, we watched Doctor Who - Phoebe, Naomi, Joseph and Jacob... The Shakespeare Code. It was pretty awesome. ;)


It's so good to be here. So exciting. So different and yet...normally unnormal.

The release from the usual, daily pain is enough to let me step back and see fairly clearly how God has brought me this far, stepped back and allowed me to rest before hitting the cycle full speed again. Even the removal of some of the visiting plans has been more of a God-planned rest, because I'm a similar day-to-day cycle which is normal and restful.

To be honest, if I wasn't choosing to rest in Him, I would be using this time to be in a flat panic thinking about things that are going to hit from next week, but He's teaching me slowly but surely to give them to Him, to let go and to focus on the things to hand. And that's helping - a lot.

Yes, I'm right where I'm meant to be. In the circle of His promise. And learning the guidance of His Hand.

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

The American Journey - This Journey of Faith (Part 2)

Currently, I'm feeling slightly triumphant, because my earphones are working in the plane socket and I have Katherine Jenkins' beautiful voice singing Time to Say Goodbye down my ears and getting goosebumps as usual. (The Sound of Katherine Jenkins is a CD I have to get.)

I must be getting old! I slept some last night, but I was sitting in the airport with yawns splitting my face, and as soon as I got in the plane and settled down, I fell asleep, only arousing at take-off and then for lunch at around 10:30 GMT - oh, and once for pretzels. I totally missed the headphones which is why I'm feeling all clever about using my own. :P

So delighted to get a window seat on this flight. The cloud formations, the varying shades of blue and the icicles forming on the window which I can both watch and hear - these are a delight to my camera and me! :P

Unfortunately, this is the only time out of the three flights that I will actually be getting either a meal or a window seat. :P But I am blessed - blessed indeed.

To be honest, although for once this actually seems real to me and although excited, I'm rather blasé about the whole thing, in another way I have to keep questioning whether this can possibly be "little Siân Jones from Walsall" crossing the great pond by herself for the fourth time. Yes, it is, the cool side of me reassures, but even that is amazed at the Providence that brought me here.

It is strange how every mile closer to America feels like I'm going home, dearly as I love Britain, especially England and Wales. The homesick feeling has been less noticeable this year - probably due to the promise of a close return and also because I've been putting my head down to planning for the practical future instead of just dreaming about the impossible - though I've been doing that too.

I won't pretend I'm not glad to get away from Britain right now. The pressure and confusion of more than one situation was driving me crazy - and I believe the Lord granted the money at this exact point in these circumstances so I can get away, focus on Him and seeking His Will.

When I think of what would have happened if I'd been born 200/300 years ago...well, immigration would have been easier, but that's about the only thing that would have been positive. It wouldn't have taken the eight hours I sometimes complain about - nor the twenty hours I have been complaining about! *hides, shamefaced*
More like months on end, in a wooden ship, with every possibility of my dying before I got there. When/if I did arrive, I wouldn't have been met by a friend with a car, and fed, and taken to a nice comfy bed where I could finally sleep away the discomfort of a strained neck from my uncomfortable aeroplane position. I'd have had to construct my own home, fight for it against the wild animals, nature and hostile strangers (okay, maybe not as a woman but you get the drift) etc. Yes. I'm incredibly blessed.

I'm not entirely sure of the flight path, but the arc of it looks like we are going over where the Titanic sank 101 years ago.

The Titanic. Biggest architectural triumph of its time, giant metal ship which hundreds of people set out to the New World in, comforted by reassurances of designer and architect that nothing could sink the ship. Not just on earth, but in Heaven as well. "God Himself cannot sink this ship." Dangerous words. We all know where the Titanic lies now; crumbled, torn and ripped apart in pieces at the bottom of the ocean.

When man turns his gaze from the Lord of creation to worship creation, it is the most dangerous thing he could do. All creation crumbles away in the end, from man to his work, only held captive in folklore and small remnants scattered here and there, but the Lord is forever and unchanging, ever mysterious, incomprehensible, close and loving, and the same - yesterday, today and forever, long after this ink has faded, the paper rotted away and my body ceased living.

Human beings cling on so to the seen - the life they know, the visible, wanting to invent or create or change something big - to leave a rock on the beach long after the footprint has been washed out by the tide.
We are terrified at being forgotten, yet laugh at the idea of a God Who has inscribed us on the palms of His Hands. We hate change, but mock a God Who is unchanging. We pretend to love change, excitement, newness, when all we're searching for is an end to the restless longing that constantly drives us onwards. What that requires is a step of faith, but we, blind clingers on to "the fragile skin of this tiny planet", refuse to do that.

It took faith for me to be in this aeroplane flying across the seas again. I have faith in the architect who designed the plane to have made every measurement correct, for the fuel to be the exact amount it should be, for parts of the plane not to come flying off, for the windows to be the correct thickness to withstand the pressure from inside and out. The fact that I am standing on a few pieces of metal 35992 ft above an ocean in a metal can powered by engines with fuel should terrify the daylights out of me. If one thing went wrong from design to construction through to the present, I could be dead. But I barely even think about it. It's as natural for me as breathing - though a much less regular occurrence!

Breath is given to me by God, my Creator, and the intelligence of the people designing this also comes from Him.

God has brought me here at this exact moment, exact time. He ordains each of our ways, if we will only surrender them to Him and seek to know His will in every area of our lives.

The tickets were reduced - twice. Which doesn't normally happen.
The aircraft is flying.
The date was changed so I didn't have to go on the wedding day of my friends.
The money came through just at the right time.

God has provided each and every step of this journey - even to it being at the exact time of life that I needed it.

I don't pretend to know why I'm in the situation I'm in. I don't know why God's lead me this way. But I do know He's leading me. And I will follow Him - the God Who parted the Red Sea and opened the skies of America to me.

A few days ago, I was devoid of faith and hope and trust. A certain group of friends and the OYAN prayer group have been praying for me, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt I would not be here in my spiritual walk without them. God bless you 1000 times over.

The fleece I have laid before the Lord will, I believe, be answered one way or another. Even if, and probably not, the way I want. Yet, although I ask if possible for the cup to pass from me, yet not my will but His be done.

"All the way my Saviour leads me,
What have I to ask beside?
Can I doubt His tender mercy
Who through life has been my guide?" ~Fanny Crosby
"This journey of life is a search for joy.
This journey of faith is following You.
Every step of the way
Through the joy and the pain,
Right here in this moment.
Take my heart,
Take my soul.
I surrender everything to Your control.
And let all that is within me,
Lift up to You and say
I am Yours and Yours alone.
Completely." ~Ana Laura

I can't say I'm happy about this journey because I'm not. I'm frankly terrified of the pain I'm 98% certain is coming.

But I'm content to know I'm following Him to the best of my ability, and in thus seeking to put Him and His Will first in my life, I am in His Will. And that, I find peace in.

Join me on this journey too. Not just the American one, but mine through all of time and space, with the Lord of time. :)

Love in Christ,
~Siân

(Written 13.10.13)

Sunday, October 13, 2013

The American Journey - Crossing the Pond (Part 1)

So you read the prequel to my trip in "When the Skies Were Opened". If you didn't, go back and read it. ;)

I'm sitting in the airport at the moment, with 55 minutes until the gate opens, and since I've used one hour ten minutes clearing FB, I figured I'd catch you up on this.

Getting home from the wedding last night, I slept until midnight when the parents came to bed and woke me to start packing properly. By 4:15, I'd managed to pack my suitcase (shock one) and sort most of my paperwork (shock two). But I still had to wash my hair...if you know my hair you know what I mean...and wake Mom and George at 4:30.

I opted for the hair first and bounced in the shower...to Mom pounding the door at 4:55 in terror as I was drying it with a towel. (See, I'd said we had to leave at 5. :P)

Ready to go...and the butterflies started. Sorta. More like a horrible tight clenching in the pit of my stomach.

The reasons why?

On my previous flight to the USA in June, I was nearly turned back at the border due to lack of money on me (I'd forgotten I had my credit card). But God was good and the lady was in a good mood - and I passed through.
And on my previous flight - to Ireland - I missed the flight.

Consequently, I was downright scared.

Plus some other personal things happening right now, a fleece put out for the Lord and I was even more nervous, since this time is to get away from a situation and pray and seek God and I honestly am not sure where He's going to take me.

More scaredness. :P

I was rattling away to Mom all the way to the airport...so nervous I could barely eat the food I was forcing myself to swallow (as in my 28 hour day today, I will only get one meal on the planes >.> )...and reciting Scripture after Scripture on trust, waiting...patience. God promising peace, guidance, wisdom.

We reached the airport at 6, despite the near half-hour late start. Mom and George walked me into the airport, George helping with the suitcases, but the check in was actually still closed.
They then left with hugs and wishes for a good time.

As soon as they'd gone, the check in opened, and I headed over to the queue already formed. The nice security guy ripped off my previous flight tags for me...and then this lady came over, bypassing the group in front of me, and started asking me all the security questions. After that, she put a sticker on the back of my passport and the nice security guy lead me to the Premium queue. O.o
It took a while to get through.

I always quake with fear over the weight of my luggage, the weight of my carry-on, the liquids and gels thing at security, my luggage not getting to the final destination...yah. Lots of prayers going up. Fear is a horrible enemy to me. ;)

Finally it was through, and my blue suitcase disappeared with a prayer following it on the conveyor belt. I guess I'll see it in Newark, where I have to check it in again. Lord willing. :P

Then security...the fella behind the conveyor belt was nice. I've learned over the past three years that as soon as you get behind the last person in the queue, start stripping. (Not...that literally.) And keep doing it while you're moving forward. You get through quicker. Taking your laptop out while moving is a feat I still have to learn to conquer.

The red light would bleep as I went through the body scanner. *sigh* I hate being patted down. Invasion of my space. V_V Go away. XD Very thankful that ladies do it for ladies though!

The feeling of relief as soon as I'd gathered my personal belongings and settled them in their own places and was walking through the pretty duty free area - and dodging the people standing there - was very big.

So thankful I got through it safely.

You know, with all of the constant recital of Scripture and prayer against the overwhelming fear (and when I mean overwhelming...I mean overwhelming)...I was still very scared (silly as it may be) but I was focusing through that...onto the Lord. I couldn't FEEL Him as such, but I knew He was there.

Perhaps, getting through the dark situations is not just the Light coming into it and blazing the darkness away, but is also reaching out in the darkness to grasp the Hand with faith.

And the gate has opened. I'll see you guys on the other side, Lord willing.

Love you,
In Christ,
~Siân

Wednesday, October 09, 2013

Authoressing

When people ask me what I am, among the first words I use to describe myself is "author" or "writer".

"Oooh! What do you write?"
"Well, historical fiction mostly, started a bit of fantasy and my own autobiography." (That last usually gets a lot of laughter!)
"Are you published?"
"Well, sort of, yes."
"Are you going to write a book about BMG? (My workplace)"
I have to laugh at that one.
"Maybe," because all experiences can be used.
Then they go off into detailed descriptions of how I could use certain people and feature them and hide names, etc.


So why am I writing this? Because I was thinking about it the other day. As life has gone on, and my friends and I have grown up, I am technically no longer recognised as an author in writing circles. I have little time in the current scheme of live to do more than scribble a few lines here and there, a few story ideas to be worked on when I hit that wonderful stage in life (Lord alone knows when that'll be - I've an idea I'll be still trotting around in my eighties!) when I have "some spare time".

I'm coming to the long-awaited but important conclusion though, that I'll never have "spare time" to indulge in writing, like it's a hobby. It isn't a hobby. It's a core essence of who I am. Why else would stories and characters and people come dancing through my mind, calling out to me, and why else do I use it as part of an introduction as to who I am?

My writing has changed. It's been on the back burner for several years now - apart from my blog.

I'm no longer the little girl of eight, sitting on the old squishy orange carpet hidden safely behind the pulpit platform at Bethany, staring down at the paper and trying to express the childish stories in my head.
I no longer create characters and then try and write a dance for them.

People are my characters. People are my study. My main focus is on people - delightfully intricate, intensely 3D, wildly spinning and tangling people. Lives of webs and weaving, glories of colour and depth.

And these people are where I draw my characters.

I see a man in a crowd. Perhaps he gives me a glance, a half hesitant smile on a thin, sad face in response to my own. A story is born.
A woman pushes a pushchair, trying desperately to marshall three other children past with six massive bags hanging off on all sides. She becomes a character with a side story.

People are characters. And characters are people. And life...is...pain. But. Very Beautiful. Simply from the intrinsic depths of the colour, and the glory, and the wealth of living, and the God Who made life.


In Christ,
~Mademoiselle Siân

Sunday, October 06, 2013

When The Skies Were Opened

Oh my gosh. I'm actually going.

That was pretty much my reaction Wednesday night when Mom, oh so casually, directed George to also casually place an envelope containing the exact amount of money I needed to pay for my flight to America.
Of course, it shouldn't have been any more than a little nice surprise, but it was. Because all the jigsaw pieces had to fall into the right place at exactly the right time.

I think it started back at the beginning of this year/end of last year. Mom promised me that because of my helping out with some of the bills, she would gift me a trip to America when the money came through. I had two choices - the OYAN Winter Workshop, or Laura and Daniel's wedding. I chose the wedding.

Which meant that when the date was set, the money would have to be through. I plotted out the trip, and asked Mom if I could take an extra trip - yes, all okay. Then the money didn't come through. Because the solicitors had to sort it out. Etc, etc. Poor Mom, every day a Siân-who-was-trying-to-be-very-calm-and-nonchalant would ask casually, "Have the solicitors been in touch today?" And Mom, with a rather worried expression, "No, not yet." She almost felt guilty. V_V

I went into the travel agents in July/early August. The price was the usual, around £660ish. Then I went back in three weeks ago. It had shot up to £821. Calmly I phoned Mom and told her the prices (from London it was less, but London is too far). She said that it was still fine, but I drew the line and said that if the prices went up more, I wasn't going.

It seems odd to say, but after this, a kind of calm came over me. A deep-down-hard-core inside of me was convinced that I would be going. I (more surface wise) knew that if God wanted me to go, I would go, and I trusted Him with that at the same time as the other half of me was freaking out, going, "YOU'RENEVERGOINGTOGOTHEFLIGHTPRICESAREGOINGTOGOUPYOUKNOWTHISANDTHEMONEYWILLNEVERGETTHROUGHINTIME."

I still asked, nervously, but not quite as often as I had been - though I'm sure it felt the same to Mother! And then on September 29th, she said, "It should be through this week." As she'd said that the previous week, I was still thinking, "Bleh, yeahhhh, it won't."
But I went into the travel agents on Tuesday (October 1st) to check. Would you believe it? The flight had gone down to £752. BUT. Only if I flew on Saturday, October 12th - the wedding of our friends Chris and Catherine, that I'd promised to go to. It was more expensive if I flew out on the Sunday or Monday...which I could technically have done now two friends had cancelled on my visiting them.

So Felicity held the flights for me and I went home, phoning Mom on the way. Mom said that I should check the flights before I booked to see if I could go to the wedding instead of flying out at 9am on the wedding morning.
Wednesday evening, I got in from work and passed some random remark about doing something or other - and Mom commented as how that would be rather hard, since I'd be in America. I was like..."But the money hasn't come through. I'm not going to be in America." Then she got George to drop the envelope in my hands.

Considering I'd known deep-down I was going, I was dumbstruck.

George dropped a tenner in to cover the extra £2. The next morning, I was running late and he advised me to use the tenner and buy myself a train ticket, but I decided against it (just to check the prices for Sunday/Monday) and went for the bus. I should have technically missed it - but it was two minutes later than I was, and I was later than its original time.

After work on Thursday (where I spent a delightful day telling people God had provided and watching their expressions), I went to the travel agents and sat down. Felicity checked the flights and lo and behold - the ticket prices had held.
The reason they were low is partly due to the American economy drop. >.O So I asked her to check the tickets for Sunday...and it was £765. I said I'd got £760 but I could run and get the fiver - and she said that they'd sort it and not to worry!

What really struck me as to how miraculous it was were her comments.
"You're really lucky," she said. "This never happens."
I kinda laughed, a shocked-hyper-laugh.
"I was praying!"
"Well...He definitely answered you then."

Because the price had not only lowered from three weeks earlier to that Tuesday, the price of flights on Sunday had lowered SINCE TUESDAY.

So yeah. I'm still kinda walking around in a daze, packing both for moving home and flying out to the States again...for the second time this year...a miracle I was hoping for but failing to expect.

There are still a lot of details - and important ones - that I need to work out. But I know I will walk through them one way or another and that the Lord won't fail me even now.


And oh my gosh I'm going. Like. This time next week, I'll be over the Atlantic. Again.

God is so good.

And thank you to all of you praying for me to go. I know a lot of you were, and I don't think I'd be going if you hadn't been. <3 I'll take you all with me in my heart. <3

In Christ,
~Mademoiselle Siân~