Success

They're playing dress-ups. That's my first thought as I look down the row at my friends who are immaculately dressed, having just come from work. Their clothes are perfectly pressed and their shoes look like a pair of Mum's old ones that made their way into our dress-ups box, only these ones aren't scuffed and worn and they look a whole lot more expensive. I push this thought aside and try to tune in to their conversation. It's noisy, and I only pick up snippets.

“If they offer me a position in Auckland I'll have to be there in three weeks.”

“My new position is a huge step up from what I've been doing, and has a significant salary increase.”

“After a year or so it's time to start moving up.”

Surely this is just a game of pretend, of make-believe. It's no different to the way we'd play house when we were younger. We'd spend a couple of hours dressing up in so called work clothes pretending to be Very Important People. Soon enough we'd get bored and pack up, preferring to play some other game. Maybe we'd be superheroes this time.

I look down at my own work clothes, jeans and chucks, and I'm hit once again with the realisation that this isn't a game anymore. This is the real world that my friends live in now, but I don't feel like I belong here. Everyone seems to have jumped onto the bottom rung of a corporate ladder and fixed their eyes firmly on the top. They've got a career and life mapped out, while I still don't have a clue. I like my job and I have plenty of other things to keep me busy, but I have more and more moments when all I can think is crap, I'm gonna die, what am I doing – nothing – crap.

Maybe God just hasn't noticed that I've been left behind. I set about making smoke signals, sending out an SOS. He meets me, and I swear I can hear Him laugh. Not in a mean way, but in the way a parent laughs when a small child unwittingly does something funny. 'I don't see a problem here.'

'I want what they have!' I gesture wildly. 'The well mapped plans! Security, certainty, success!'

'What would you do with a plan if I gave it to you?' He asks.

I blink. 'Follow it, of course.'

'Ah. Good. Keep at it then.'

'I will,' I counter, 'just as soon as you give me the plan.'

'I've already given it to you', He says, adding kindly 'but perhaps you've misplaced it. Maybe this will help you remember.' Then he hands me a picture. I look at it, and see that it's a photo I took on a recent trip to Farewell Spit.

'Oh, I remember this!'

'I should hope so. It's only been a month.'

'Man, what a time that was! Crossing from one beach to the other was kind of scary. Those DOC guys have odd ideas about what a 'marked trail' is. Going from marker to marker is tricky when you can't even see them. I was especially worried when there was that huge swamp in the way, but it turned out okay.'

'You know', He tells me, 'I actually think DOC's trail marking is rather good. You could almost say that they've modelled it on the way I mark a trail.'

'Why's that?' I ask.

'I've got a destination in mind', he tells me mysteriously, 'but I prefer to show it to you piece by piece. It's too much to cope with otherwise. If I showed you all my plans you'd be too overwhelmed to do anything about them. They'd seem too big, too unbelieveable, and they may not make any logical sense. And then where would we be? But if I show you small pieces you can generally work out how to get there. Just trust me that I know the rest of the way.

'Why am I stuck at a marker then, when everyone else goes on ahead? I've done the school thing, the uni thing, but got stuck after the finding a job thing.'

'You're not stuck at a marker if you're following me. But you think that to be successful you go to school, go to uni, get a job, then move up the ladder at a speed directly related to how many years you spent at uni and the number of certificates you collected while doing so, right?'

It sounds a bit silly when He spells it out, so I try to change the subject. 'Something like that, and hey – you know how you're really powerful and that – couldn't you have directed me to choose a different study area? Something that would be a little more applicable to the current job market than Art History and medieval languages?'

He's doing that my child is being unintentionally hilarious laugh again. 'I don't really work like that. Let me ask you something. Did you enjoy what you studied?'

'Absolutely.'

'And would you have enjoyed studying law or commerce?'

'Absolutely not.'

'Or IT?'

'I wouldn't have a clue where to start.'

'Exactly. You see, I give people different gifts.'

'Oh, true, I've read that somewhere.'

'I should hope so. It's in that best-selling book I wrote. Anyway, the thing is, I love to give my children gifts. And I get great pleasure from seeing them use them as best they can. If you use the gifts and opportunities that I give you to the best of your ability, then you're succesful. For some people that does mean climbing a corporate ladder, for others it doesn't. I'm more concerned with whether you're serving me.'

The treasures in heaven verse comes to mind. 'Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust desroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up or yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.'

It's about kingdom building, and working for God – doing things that will make a forever difference, whatever that looks like and whether it seems quite ordinary or crazy and nonsensical.

God holds out his hand, a father to a child. 'I'm off to change the world. Are you coming with me?'




- Isabel
(Views expressed are my own and do not necessarily represent those of GBNZ)

When your best isn't good enough

This morning Valerie Adams stepped out into the Olympic Stadium in London, half a world away from home. In front of a crowd of thousands, she put her heart, body and soul on the line, knowing millions of Kiwi’s were cheering her on.

She won a silver medal. A silver Olympic medal.

That is no small achievement and is something that most of us can only ever dream of achieving.

She didn’t think it was her best, she was disappointed that she hadn’t won the gold, sad that she thought she had let down her country.

And New Zealand’s media agreed with her. On the radio this afternoon instead of celebrating Valerie’s achievement the radio presenter announced her result as “Valerie lost the gold medal in the shot put this morning.”

Pardon?

Valerie didn’t lose the gold, it wasn’t hers to begin with. Yes, she won a gold medal in the Beijing games and I’m sure she really would have liked to have won it again.

But beating her down, when she’s already beating herself up? No. We should be celebrating the fact that she is number two in the world, and not far behind the world number one.

What she achieved is awesome. The time, the dedication, the blood, sweat and tears that it takes to get to an international level is huge. To qualify for the Olympics is something to be proud of by itself. To have won a medal - fantastically, awesomely wonderful. And Valerie did.

Let’s celebrate!!

Brr! It's cold out there!!

If your town or city is anything like mine, the last couple of days have been pretty chilly.

Winter, it seems, has arrived with a cold, icy, snowy vengeance. If you have photos of snow – send them in!! We’d love to see them :-)

But despite the cold there are many reasons to rejoice that winter is here…

• You have a legitimate excuse to wear onesies. ALL DAY.
• You can finally use your ugg boots, hot water bottle and electric blanket at the same time!
• It snows which makes everything look pretty.
• You can throw things, namely snowballs, at people.
• The skifields will open which means you can snowboard, whoohoo!! Or ski, if that is your preference.
• Hot chocolate becomes the drink of choice which means you can drink marshmallows.
• Snow forts, snow men and ice sculptures are all worthy construction efforts.
• Snow days mean you don’t have to go to work or school.
• Fashion becomes less about how good you look and more about how warm you can stay.
• Your pets will want more cuddles because they want to steal your body warmth.
• If you have a fire, you can roast marshmallows.
• The other side of the world gets to have summer.
• The further through winter we get, the closer to summer we are.
• If you’re Jamaican, your bobsled team can practice!

So what are your favourite things about winter? How do you like to stay warm?

That's not exactly what I asked for...

Think about the last time you asked God for something. How did God answer you? Just as you had asked or not exactly how you thought he would?

A few weeks ago I was lying in bed late at night and I started to hear strange noises coming from within my bedroom. What was worse was that I could hear something moving! Eeekkkk!

My first thought was that it was a mouse. Now I realise that mice are God’s creatures, just as I am. That does not mean I have to like them! I did not want a mouse in my house. *shudder*

So I prayed. I prayed that the noises would go away. I prayed that the noises were not a mouse. I prayed that if it was a mouse that God would make the mouse leave! Really quite a trivial thing to pray about, but I really do not like mice. Or rats while we’re talking about small rodents.

I eventually went to sleep, continuing to ignore the strange noises. BUT as soon as I got up the next morning, the noises started again! I decided to be brave and track down the source of the noises. They seemed to be coming from the shelves by my window. So I opened the curtain to get a bit more light in my bedroom and sitting on my windowsill was a cat.

Now this is odd for two reasons. One - the cat was sitting INSIDE my bedroom. Two - I don’t OWN a cat!

I had to laugh. It seemed that God had answered my prayers! It definitely wasn’t a mouse! Sometimes God may not answer our prayers with exactly what we want, but he will answer.

My (almost) cat!

Welcome back 4th Tawa

At the start of the year the hard decision was made to put 4th Tawa into recess for a term. But the start of Term 2 saw the 4th Tawa Company back with a brand new leadership team, 3 young leaders and 8 girls, including one new girl.

The girls made scones, iced biscuits and played games before their parents joined them for supper.

The Minister of their church is very keen for the company to continue and is rallying the church behind them. As Fay from Wellington Area put it “It was super to see them all getting on so well and having such a fun night.”

Check out these photos of 4th Tawa.

Lest we forget

Today is Anzac Day.

Five years ago today I was at Gallipoli to commerate Anzac Day. The main New Zealand memorial site on the Gallipoli peninsula is called Chunuk Bair, and is essentially a massive hill that the New Zealand forces had to take.

I sat on the top of the hill, looking down into the deep valley below and tried to imagine what it would have been like for the young New Zealand soliders tasked with climbing this hill. It's covered in trees, scrub and rocks. The Turkish Army was at the top firing down on the soldiers as they tried to advance. And it is STEEP.

These young men, many the same age as I was then, fighting in a county half a world away from their home.

The harder I tried to imagine what it would have been like for them, the more I realised that I had no idea. Hopefully I will never have any idea of what those men went through.

They fought so I would not have to. We would not have to.

364 days of the year, we don't really think about war. It's not a nice thing to think about so why would we? But Anzac Day is the one day of the year that we stop and say "thank you". Thank you to those who fought, thank you to those who gave their lives, thank you to those who never came home.

Take time to say thank you. After everything the veterans went through, it is the very least we can do.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning,

We will remember them.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae

I don't know about you but for me at the moment it's hard not to see poppies almost everywhere. They are the visual reminder that we will soon be commerating Anzac day.

Have you ever wondered why it is that poppies have become so connected with a day that commerates war? Seems an odd occasion to be connected with something as delicate as a flower.

The words of the poem above were written by a medical doctor during the First World War in Ypres, Belgium. Like many soldiers he had noticed that after battles had finished, often the first plants to grow back were wild flowers, particularly poppies. For the soldiers the flowers were a welcome reminder that beauty can come from the most ugly of places.

The poppy was adopted in the 1920's by the New Zealand Returned Services Association (RSA), and has been a proud part of Anzac day ever since.The poppies became a symbol of many things. Of beauty and hope, of rememberance and friends lost.

So this Anzac Day if you're wearing a poppy, take a moment to think about what it represents. And wear it proudly.

Why I remember

Everyone has their own reasons for commerating Anzac Day, or to not commerate the day in some cases. I have always attended Anzac Day services - when I was younger it was because I was in the Girls' Brigade group and now because I feel it is important to.

As a child I had no real connection with the veterans I saw each Anzac Day, proudly marching with their medals pinned to their chests. War was not something that was discussed with my Grandpa, and I never got the chance to meet my Grandad.

It was not until I was older and understood what my grandfathers went through in World War Two that I had a personal reason to commerate Anzac Day, and now I do proudly.

So why do I remember?

My Grandpa was a young man when he enlisted with the Royal Navy. He was sent to Canada to train as a fighter pilot, and very nearly qualified. I think it was very fortunate that he didn't - fighter pilots didn't have a good survival rate. So he became an engineer on an Aircraft carrier and spent a lot of the war in the Pacific. He had his 21st birthday while he was overseas, away from his fiancee and away from his family.

My Grandad was enlisted in the British Army. He fought in many of the major battles that the British Army engaged in Africa and Europe. He was one of the last men off the beaches at Dunkirk, he fought at El Alamein and Monte Cassino, eventually ending up in Austria as the war ended. He was captured by German forces twice, away for a total of 7 years. When he left his family his daughters were toddlers of 1 and 3, by the time he returned they were girls of 8 and 10, he had missed their childhood.

My Grandfathers. Both good honourable men who fought for their country.

They are why I remember.

Forgiveness

"Those heroes that shed their blood and lost their lives...you are now lying in the soil of a friendly country. Therefore rest in peace. There is no difference between the Johnnies and the Mehmets to us, where they lie, side by side here in this country of ours. You, the mothers who sent their sons from faraway countries wipe away your tears. Your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land, they have become our sons as well."

- Mustafa Kemal Ataturk

Many things went through my mind when I first saw these words. I was in Turkey on the Gallipoli peninsula and it was the day before Anzac Day.

Mustafa Ataturk was the leader of Turkey from 1923 to 1938 and is the founder of modern Turkey. He wrote these words in 1934 as a tribute to those who lost their lives at Gallipoli.

The reason I find these words so profound is that we (the British, New Zealand and Australia) invaded their country. They were no where near us, yet to gain a tactical advantage we invaded their land and forced them to fight.

Ataturk recognised the sacrifice of the men of both sides, and the impact that their deaths had had on their families.

He told their mother’s not to worry, that their son’s were safe and would be taken care of.

He forgave the invading forces, and recognised that we are no different from each other.

When I went to Turkey I was expecting...something. Unfriendliness, resentment, anger maybe? But there wasn’t any. The Turks welcomed us with open arms, and made sure we felt wanted in their country.

They had forgiven us.

I for one think that this is awesome. I like the idea that Anzac Day can be used both to remember those who fought and died, but also to forgive the events that we remember.

Humanity is never so beautiful as when praying for forgiveness, or else forgiving another. --Jean Paul Richter

Sure to Rise!

Most of us will know this as the Edmond’s slogan, but if Jesus had had a marketing guru amongst the disciples, it would have been a pretty good catch phrase for Him.

Today is Easter Sunday, also known as Resurrection Sunday. The day we get to celebrate our Lord Jesus rising from the grave!

Apart from Christmas where we celebrate our Saviour being sent to Earth, Resurrection Sunday is the biggest party of the Christian faith.

But think for a moment about the days leading up to today. I don’t know about you but if I had been one of the disciples, or one of the women who went to Jesus’ grave in the morning, the last couple of days would have been awful.

Imagine that you have just seen the man you thought was here as the Messiah hung on a cross, died and put into a tomb. The man who had told you that he would rise again.

All the hope you had placed in the man who claimed to be the Son of God, gone the moment he died.

Then imagine you’re one of the women - Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, Salome or Joanna - who went to the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus, only to be confronted by the stone covering the tomb rolled away, the tomb empty.

An angel appears to you saying “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. Here is not here; he has risen; just as he has said.”

If I had been one of those women, there would have been a lot going through my head at that point. Fear. Disbelief Joy. Excitement. Hope.

Could it really be true? Could he have risen just as he said?

The Bible says the women hurried away “afraid but filled with joy” to go and tell the disciples what they had just seen. They believed, they knew that Jesus was risen, and that they were saved. They knew they had to celebrate and spread the good news!

The story of Easter Sunday is at the heart of the Gospel - the Good News.

Because what better news could there be? Our Lord Jesus is risen!

Jesus - Sure to Rise!

How "good" is Good Friday?

When I was growing up I didn't think that Good Friday was terribly good at all. Why were we calling a day where someone died gruesomely on a cross 2000 years ago good?

I knew why we had Easter, and what it was celebrating. But I'm not sure I really understood truly what Easter meant.

For those who have grown up in the Church we know that Jesus was betrayed, taken before Pontius Pilate, and eventually handed over to the crowd to be crucified.

Jesus is beaten and whipped before being made to carry his cross through the streets. He is then nailed to the cross, which is then hauled upright on the hills of Calvary.

Jesus hangs there in agonising pain, before crying out "Father, why have you forsaken me?" and dying.

So remind me how this is good? Sounds pretty bad to me.

For me there a two words that make Good Friday good.

The first is Faith.

Jesus had to have enormous faith in God, faith in God's plan, faith that he hadn't been forsaken, faith that it would all be worth it.
Faith that his disciples would do as he had asked, faith his message would survive.

The disciples had to have faith. The man many of them had given up everything to follow was now hanging on a cross, about to die for proclaiming he was the Son of God. They had to have faith that all that Jesus had told them was true, faith that he would rise again.

We get to have faith in a loving God, and a Saviour who payed the ultimate price for us. Which leads to the next word.

The other word is Mercy.

Our God is a merciful God, and the events of Good Friday are all about this. The word Mercy comes from the Latin merces meaning price paid.

Price Paid.

Our price is paid, our lives redeemed. That is why Jesus had to die. To pay the price of our sins, now and forever. How awesome is that?

Because of the willing sacrifice of one man, we get to live forever.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. "  John 3:16

Faith & Mercy. Eternal life. Faith in a Merciful God.
 
Turns out Good Friday is pretty good after all.

Unexpected Blessings

Sometimes I think I ask God for a lot when I pray.

Forgiveness? Definitely.
Mercy? You betcha!
Wisdom? I try to pray for this at least once a day.
A general, ‘help!’ when I don’t know what to ask for? Oh yes.
That I’ll wake up in the morning in time to catch a flight/get to work/ be somewhere really important? Probably more times than I care to admit. (Unlike the alarm on my cellphone, God hasn’t let me down on this one yet!)

Of course, there are things I hadn’t asked God for before:

Discomfort? I know we’re called to pick up our cross, but I’d tended to see this as something we do out of duty, because it’s expected of us – not something we specifically seek and ask God for.
Anger? Can’t remember ever praying, ‘God please make me super angry today. Just make me mad at the world and everyone in it. Amen.’
Tears? Not high on my priority list.
Foolishness? Hang on, I’m sure I remember a Sunday School song about the wise and the foolish man building their houses.  It was great fun, we sang about the foolish man building his house on the sand, and when it came TUMBLING! DOWN! we jumped from the stage onto the floor. But I’m fairly sure the foolish man wasn’t held up as a role model.

Then, this morning at church, I heard something interesting. Our services always conclude with a blessing for the congregation. This was today’s:

May God bless us with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that we may live deep within our hearts.
May God bless us with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that we may work for justice, freedom, and peace.
May God bless us with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, hunger, and war, so that we may reach out our hands to comfort them and turn their pain into joy.
And may God bless us with enough foolishness to believe that we can make a difference in this world, so that we can do what others claim cannot be done.

I like this. A lot. Suddenly, these things seemed like good things to be praying for. We can’t ever know truth or have fantastic friendships with people unless we’re irritated when answers don’t seem to quite it, or annoyed at only ever discussing work, school, and the weather with a friend. How can we help those who are oppressed and persecuted unless we are livid and downright angry at the awful situations we find them in? If we aren’t moved by someone’s plight, we’re unlikely to feel any need to comfort them. Be uncomfortable. Cry. Get angry. Be motivated to do something!

Our world is broken. There’s so much that needs to be fixing, and the situation can seem hopeless. I don’t know about you, but I often hear a voice at the back of my head: Can anything you do really make a difference?  

I encourage us all to shout back ‘Yes!’ Be foolish. God is in the business of making a difference. This idea is at the very heart of GB, as our international vision is: Girls’ lives transformed, God’s world enriched. That’s making a difference. That’s changing the world.

I pray that God blesses us all with an extra dose of foolishness this week. Let’s make a difference. 

Happy International Women's Day!

Today is International Women’s Day - Happy Women’s Day Everyone!

In honour of this day that celebrates women, I want you to take a moment to think of one woman who has made an impact on your life.

For me the woman that immediately comes to mind is my Grandma. My childhood is full of memories of visiting Grandma and Grandpa’s place and eating loads of baking that my Grandma always had on hand. Chocolate button biscuits were always my favourite!

She was the perfect Grandma - she baked, she made things, could knit without looking at what she was doing, won prizes for her jams and preserves and ALWAYS watched Coronation Street. She loved all her grandchildren, and always had time for all of us.

Every Christmas and Birthday revealed another beautifully and lovingly handcrafted gift sometimes it was bed socks, sometimes a picture - once it was the Loch Ness Monster!

Every grand-daughter on her 12th birthday was given a china doll that Grandma had made for them. She hand crafted them, and made them look a bit like the recipient. She was worried that when it came time to give her youngest grand-daughter her china doll, she wouldn’t be here, or wouldn’t be able to make it. So she made it in advance and kept it safe until it was time for it to be given away.

As I grew older I came to appreciate the true gift I had been given in the form of my Grandma.

She had an unshakeable faith, she was involved in her community, and more importantly her family. She was a loving wife of my Grandpa for over 60 years, raised 5 kids, and 14 grandchildren. She survived cancer, moved to the other side of the world and rode a motorbike (once...).

She was the kind of woman I can only hope that I one day become, and I thank God that I had the privilege of being her Grand-daughter.

So take time to appreciate the women around you - they are truly worth more than you know.

God Bless

There but for the Grace...

I had just gone on duty at work when the September 4th Christchurch earthquake struck at 0435.
I spent the day on the phone to colleagues in Christchurch trying to offer support and help. Several times there were aftershocks as we talked, all I could do was listen as they waited it out.

I was in Christchurch on the morning of February 22 but left just after 1100. I flew to Dunedin, and was driving when the 1251 earthquake hit. I walked into a room filled with people on their feet staring at each other as they had felt the quake strongly in Dunedin. Moments later my phone rang with questions and news, most of it not good. I couldn't help thinking about what could have happened had I been an hour later leaving Christchurch.

New Zealand watched as our second biggest city was brought to its knees. Everyone knows someone in Christchurch, or someone who was there.

I was on the ground in Christchurch a week later and Christchurch was a city I no longer recognised. The new reality for the people of Christchurch was something I couldn't comprehend even after seeing it. Driving through the streets was a surreal experience - it was like a war zone, but somehow it was New Zealand.

But during the worst of times, the best of people emerged. Help came from friends and strangers alike. From the rest of New Zealand and the world, but often from just next door, or down the road. Communities came together to help each other out in any way possible.

Girls' Brigade was not immune from the earthquakes. Companies lost years of resources or worse their churches, but as with others in Christchurch, they picked themselves up, banded together and carried on.

It was a beautiful privilege to watch as a young woman from Christchurch was awarded her hard earned and thoroughly deserved Queen's Award last year at Government House.

Today it has been one year. Kia Kaha Christchurch.

Our thoughts, prayers and hope are with you as always

Blessings xx

Commonwealth Day Service @ Holy Trinity Cathedral

The Very Reverend Jo Kelly-Moore, Dean of Auckland,
in partnership with The Royal Commonwealth Society,
invites you to attend

THE COMMONWEALTH DAY SERVICE
5pm Sunday, 11th March 2012
Holy Trinity Cathedral, Parnell

Celebrating the Diamond Jubilee of
Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

With the theme ‘Connecting Cultures’
this year’s Service has as its special focus
the beginning of the Queen’s 60th Jubilee celebrations.

 The Queen’s Commonwealth Day Message will be read.

You are invited to wear national dress
Please bring the flag of your nation to carry in procession.
Flag bearers are to assemble in the Cathedral Visitors’ Centre by 4.45pm

Please rsvp to GB Support Centre by March 1st.

Holy Trinity Cathedral, cnr Parnell Rd & St Stephen’s Ave, Parnell

The length of Friendship

I was at a Queen's Award Training conference over the weekend just gone. It was an opportunity to learn, to teach and to catch up with some good friends.

As the women arrived there was much chattering and catching up, exclamations of "I haven't seen you for ages!" But the best thing about this was that it didn't matter that these women hadn't seen each other for awhile, they just picked up where they left off. These were friendships that extended years, and had covered a lot of life in that time.

These and my own friendships I've made in GB are one of the things I truly love and appreciate about Girls' Brigade. When you're a girl, you may know others within your company, perhaps in your area. As you get older, you start to meet those in neighbouring areas, then the rest of NZ. Occasionally you even get to meet fellow GB'ers from around the world, but that's a whole other blog entry.

You meet at Fonomare, at Conference, or maybe some Leadership training. You get talking, sharing things in common and it grows into something more than just chit-chat. The women you meet, and the friends you make stay with you. They grow with you, they're there through the good times and the bad times, and are always up for a late night girl talk.

Do you have a Girls' Brigade friendship story?

Prayer Request

You may have heard of the sinking of a ferry from Papua New Guinea last week. We have been asked to pray for all those who have been touched by this disaster, especially those families who have lost loved ones. As far as we know there has been no loss of life of GB members.

Starting Off

Welcome to the Girls' Brigade New Zealand blog. We're just getting started here, but keep checking back for updates, thoughts, news and inspiration related to the awesome organisation that is GBNZ

Blessings