You can't get God on UberEats.

And... we just got home from Bali!

We just got home from Bali.

We were there for 11 days— it was meant to be 12 but we have a habit of shaving off the end of a trip. Erik and I get both get antsy when we’re out of routine for too long. We love routine.

This was my first time in Bali for 7 years. The last time we went, was when Sol was about 8 months old. We travelled from the USA which, was an insanely long journey compared to the short 3.5 hour flight I was used to between Bali and Perth.

I’d been to Bali before that trip at least 20 times which is not unusual when you’re from Perth. People pop over for the weekend and it’s been the holiday-of-choice for west Aussies for decades. It’s closer than flying to Sydney. Growing up, you could always recognise a kid who’d just been to Bali by their braids, their fake sunnies and their ‘Bad Girl’ brand halter top. I didn’t get on an airplane until I was 15 for a soccer trip so I was never one of the cool Bad Girl girls.

I was once so jealous that my friend Nat got one of those Bad Girl tops, that I asked my Dad to get me one on his upcoming trip to Bali. I even drew him a picture to make sure he got the right one (I am nothing if not pedantic). It was a cropped halter top with a matching skirt— fake, but chic. He came back with a very uncool full length Bad Girl singlet and I tried very hard to be grateful and not secretly salty that I’d missed my one and only chance at a piece of Bali fashion glory.

I have many wild stories of Bali— spiritual stories (pre Jesus) and also party stories (also pre Jesus).

Erik and I got engaged in Uluwatu, Bali in 2015 and I’ve seen two friends be married there. For one of those weddings, I was the emcee. I was having a great time telling stories about the pair and introducing the speeches until I realised I had Bali Belly. It hits you like a tonne of bricks and you can’t mistake that acid feeling in the throat that tells you you’ve got exactly 5 minutes before a chunder. I had to muster all I could to make it to the part where I introduced the first dance, and then jumped into a car and went back to my villa to spew up all night.

The worst part was— the groom also had Bali Belly, which sucked on a whole other level. Imagine being so nauseous you can barely stand, needing to run to the toilet to spew and not being able to eat or drink on your wedding night?!

The couple, still our dear friends, recently went back to Bali to celebrate their 10 year wedding anniversary— redemption from the Bali belly incident.

I was a little nervous to go to Bali this time. Hectic traffic with three little kids isn’t my idea of a relaxing time. But we were going to visit my brother— who’s lived in Canggu for the last 8 years. He and others had told me about how built up Canggu had become and that I wouldn’t recognise it. They were right. Hooly dooly!! Streets I used to walk that had two, maybe three cafes on them were now streets absolutely chock-full of shops and cafes. I didn’t recognise it at all. Many of the Balinese call Canggu ‘little Moscow’ because it’s had a little bit of a Russian takeover. We stayed in Canggu for 8 days then went to a much quieter part of the Island for the last 3-4. I did love getting amongst all the new cafes. It’s my favourite part of any trip.

This photo is of Sol on the scooter with my brother Ben, while I whisper to myself “I am a fun mum, I am a fun mum.”

I won’t be one of those insufferables who says things like ‘it’s not the Bali I knew!’, as if to show off my long, intimate relationship with the island. But it’s true. Bali used to be a sanctuary for me. I spent some really pivotal and special times there and I was looking to buy a villa to live there, right before Erik and I decided that I’d move to the USA to live with him.

I have always loved the Balinese people. Sure, there is corruption galore on the island but that aside— the Balinese have got to be amongst the most welcoming and friendly people on earth. The sheer volume of tourists that flood their island all year round is nuts.

On driving through the crazy, disordered but also very orderly traffic, Sol said that if she was president of Indonesia she would install lanes. As an eldest daughter, she couldn’t understand why the problem hadn’t been solved. I hear you girlfriend!

They have lanes, but they drive as if they aren’t there on most roads and abide by their own unspoken road rules (which work very well if you’re Balinese). I have never seen road rage amongst the Balinese. Someone can fang by and cut someone off and they’d just get on with it (generally speaking, of course). In Australia, you cut someone off and they’d pull up to you at the traffic lights with their eyes wide and their middle finger up, mouthing something very unsavoury.

It’s wild how well they do to drive like they do. Their reaction times are INSANELY fast. One day of those road conditions in Australia and we’d all be toast.

Over 11 years ago I remember a Balinese elder telling me that the secret to their relative orderliness on the roads was these words— Anticipate and adjust. He said it was their approach to traffic as it was their approach to life.

I have often wondered whether they endure chronic disease at the same rate as the western world (I haven’t researched this), because I’d assume that they wouldn’t be as laced with psychological conflicts. They abide by their traditions, and they have a sense of peace and acceptance that so many in the west don’t. Knowing the link between our conflicts and disease, I’d love to look into this. I could be totally wrong.

I always ask the locals how they feel about the way Bali is changing. They clearly communicate that traffic has worsened, and that it’s a lot busier, but then smile and move on to a new topic. They don’t whinge perpetually like many of us in the west do. They know their government is charging a new tourist levy and say things like ‘but we won’t see the benefits of it’, but that’s about it. They don’t make it their entire personality.

There is a sort of holy contentment to the Balinese. I don’t believe they are jealous of the wealth and luxuries of the west. They have such a strong culture, a strong sense of community, family and village. Would they trade a life of excess for their life of simplicity and meaning? I don’t think so. Again, I could be wrong.

You often see westerners talk down to Balinese people as if they’re higher up. I witnessed this in cafes a few times and it made my skin crawl. Pompous tourists thinking they’re above the locals of the country they’re visiting— yuck. I often think that beneath the generous smiles of the Balinese, they’re thinking ‘we don’t want to be like you.’

I think a lot about the price of luxury, the cost of excess, the trouble with having too much choice.

I have been blessed in my life to know both extremes. I know what it’s like to have very little and I know what it’s like to have a lot. I know what it’s like to be told ‘no— we have to wait til pay day’ and to not have to blink an eyelid.

I know that there is a cost when it comes to excess. Luxuries are fun and novel but they don’t fill the God shaped hole that can only be filled with, firstly, God. Secondly, family, love, service and good ol’ fashioned hard work.

There is a freedom that comes with excess but there is also a cost.

Luxury can become boring and empty.

A plethora of choice can mean perpetual mental exhaustion.

Don’t get me wrong— I am forever grateful that I can live beyond the financial stresses of my childhood and my ancestors, but I’m also not naive to the realities of the complexities that ‘more’ can bring. Simplicity has to be one of the most life giving principles. Also, yes, you can have simplicity and wealth. But excess does bring complexity in itself.

I firmly believe that we need hard work to thrive. I believe our generation and it’s desire to life so softly and slowly can sometimes take it too far— not work enough. Live too vaguely. Live too selfishly. I believe there are consequences to this.

I don’t believe the digital nomad/online business is for everyone. I believe some are trying to build online because of the freedom, and lucrative potential but are really craving in person— brick and mortar— or even an old fashioned 9-5. I know stories of those who’ve given up their online business and gone back to a ‘regular job’ and feel much happier for it. I’m not championing one or the other, I’m just saying that we tend to idolise things, but then ignore the honest whispers of our souls.

I’m regularly checking in with myself about this.

What do I THINK I want? Vs What is TRULY calling me?

You might be noticing this in our culture too.

We’re realising where we’ve been gripping to ideals, and we’re letting go of them.

We’re no longer idolising the ideals. Like we said before— idealism can become idolatry.

Sometimes we need to ask— Does God really care about that?

Women are realising that their perfect-wellnessy-crunchy-soft era- ideals might be strangling them.

I’m seeing women who thought they needed to be homesteading in the middle of nowhere with 50 chickens to live a holy life, realise they actually want to live in suburbia, around people and be able to order dinner delivered sometimes (ain’t no feeling like that on a Friday night).

I’m seeing women who have told themselves that they must be in their soft-era, realise their soft-era is driving them mad and that they are much more a dynamic individual than they’ve let themselves be.

I’m seeing women who are A grade crunchy mums who have long made their own shampoos, who look down their nose at those half-asleep L’Oreal users, let themselves use a haircare product that actually works for once, even though it isn’t 100000% pure. They know that their rigidity may come at a higher cost than a whiff of a few non natural ingredients.

I’m seeing women who were adamant that homeschooling was the only way, put one or more kids into an aligned school and feel fresh air breathed into their entire family (and vice versa).

I’m seeing women realise that sometimes their ideals make them anxious, and worse for the people that they love— not better.

Women are realising that ideals are not the same as convictions.

Women are realising that some things matter and some just don’t and know where to tighten convictions and where to let go.

Women are realising where their idealism is strangling their joy.

Women are realising that including God is more important than clinging to ideals.

Women are no longer living in the cages of ‘people like me do things like this’ and they’re letting themselves think again, hear again, beyond the deafening influence of social media. The spirits of confusion and rigidity have had their grips but honesty and clarity are returning.

Living rigidly at the extreme is idolatry.

Worshipping ideals instead of what God is really saying, is idolatry.

Trying to be the perfect wellnessy homsteady gal is idolatry.

Be free sis.

I have been learning this in my own life recently.

Figgy, my youngest bub is on the other side of 18 months and heading towards 2. Despite my sleep still lacking, and the fact she’s still feeding on demand around the clock (I am SLOWLY night weaning. Slowly, non-linearly, you know!!), I am feeling like I’m wanting to sink my teeth into something. Whether it’s a bit more structure with my writing life, or another creative project, or another family adventure or a not for profit… I don’t know.

But I’m really sensing that I have ENORMOUS creative energy and that I am BETTER for my family when I use it correctly. When I turn from that clear aliveness I feel when I create, and try to ignore it because an ideal in me says “NO. You are to be NOTHING but a mum in this season”, I am listening to an ideal, instead of the creativity God put inside of me.

The other day I felt a clear message from God that said— you want to be obedient? Speak. Share. Write— keep doing that.

It is such a simple calling. It fits around my children. But, it does call me beyond the part of me that often wants to hide, the parts of me that doesn’t want to get caught up in internet culture.

It calls me beyond the part of me that ‘only wants to write when I feel like it.’

It calls me beyond the part of me that still wonders whether ‘I want to be online or not’.

I have a lot that I need to ‘get over’, to really obey this simple call. Speak. Write. Teach. Gather. These are the gifts God has given me and although I use them often, I know I can go somewhere new with them. I know I can reach a new discipline with them. I know I can overcome some of my own personal sh** and become even more obedient with them.

Yes, even in this season where so much of me goes to my home, my kids and my immediate community.

I have received two emails recently from publishers. One of them is a big publisher— one that actually used to be my dream publisher. The other, a more boutique publisher.

I feel my natural response inside is that ‘I don’t want to go that route because I don’t want to get big. I don’t want to change my words. I don’t want them to water down my message.’

I have observed many disingenuous people go through the traditional publishing route or try to scam their way to NYT best seller status. I don’t believe being a successful author is always the same thing as being a good writer.

But again, I am asking myself— “Is this my stuff? Is this Idealism? Is my sense of integrity actually working over time tricking me into thinking that I can’t go where God wants me to go without ‘losing myself?”

You know?

I’m getting off track here.

My point though is this— Sometimes our idolatry is subtle, because it is ‘good’.

It is perfection.

Getting it right.

Being a good, honest person.

All the things that we pedestal about ourselves, and turn up so loud in our heads so that we can’t hear what God is truly saying.

I find this same dilemma when I think about our ongoing conversation of ‘what is next for our family?’.

Am I talking about where to live again? YES. SORRY. I CANNOT HELP IT.

My husband and I had a very public, intense time at the beginning of our relationship. He was leading his family’s enormous, amazing business and we were ‘in the spotlight’ in many ways. While being a very fun, dynamic, service filled season, the pressure wore on us and strained us until we hit rock bottom. My husband had to make a very hard decision to move on from that role.

After this, we entered a very ‘quiet’ period. We both pulled back from our work and public lives to focus on each other and our children and to recalibrate. We have had a very home-centred life while they have been small and we will never regret this.

For much, but not all of this time we have been nestled in the comforting corner of Australia that is home to most of my family of origin, the children’s cousins and many of my best and longest friends. It is a very biological thing to want to be home and close to your mother when you get pregnant. It’s been such an obvious rhythm for us.

Now we are feeling the energy surge in us and we are contemplating our next move— in both business and location.

We’ve been deep in conversation, in weighing things up, in prayer, in pros and cons lists. We are so blessed to have choices and also, the choices make it tricky.

What I have learned, is that sometimes there is no right or wrong decision— the decision is to walk the path ahead with faith.

This is what we resist though.

Needing to know the answers keeps us from the faith we say we have.

We want crystal clear clarity because maybe we don’t have faith.

Faith that God will be with us either way.

Faith that God will correct any missteps.

Faith that God gave us free will and He makes sure we use it, and own it, and own the consequences.

Faith that God will comfort us through the pain of a decision, the death a decision always brings.

Because a decision always brings death.

Death to the other option.

Death to our old lifestyle.

That place we lived.

Those days where we could go to the library for rhyme time with our babies and our mum on an ordinary Thursday.

Those days.

Sometimes I feel so clearly that we are meant to be overseas— but the pain of leaving my family is so great that I find it hard to fully own that decision.

We want clarity because we want to be able to say ‘but God called me there’ rather than ‘I chose to go’.

God didn’t make us puppets. He made us participants.

We want the answers laid out for us. We want to be free of the responsibility of the pain of decision making. If we move, and we miss our family too much, we want to be able to blame that on something.

This is why I always say— the reason for change must be compelling, or it won’t stick.

I was telling

Martine - Feminine Womanhood

about this the other day and she told me — ‘You can even make correctness an idol’.

We do.

We want to be perfect more than we want to have faith.

We want to make the ‘right’ decision more than we want to trust God.

So our desire to be correct, to get it perfect, is idolatry. We’re looking to ‘what do I need to do to get it right’ more than we’re looking to ‘what is God actually saying, or NOT saying?’.

Am I trying to control the situation and avoid pain, or am I going to own my decision and trust God will never let me go astray so long as I look to Him first.

Look to God even more than I look to ‘getting it right’.

The other day, I felt tormented by this feeling of knowing a change is coming but not knowing what it is. I just wanted God to write me a note and slip it under my pillow and tell me the plan. Word for word, detail for detail.

I can work myself up into such a tizzy sometimes. I can get so gung ho mentally on figuring things out that I exhaust myself. Recently, I knew we just needed to put it down, let the charge come off it. As we got ready for church I said out loud to God— ‘Give me a word today in church God. I need a WORD.’ I didn’t need a fluffy ambiguous sign, I needed to be whooped. Convicted. Reoriented.

Straighten me out God. Save me from myself and the torments of my own mind.

As we stood for the first song, I got that word.

It sounded like this:

You know that verse?? Seek first the kingdom of God?

I knew the one.

“But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.”

Matthew 6:33

Don’t seek clarity first, seek God.

Don’t seek perfection first, seek God.

Don’t seek answers first, seek God.

I need to spend more time in prayer, in silence, on prayer walks in nature with God, than on searching through Reddit threads of “People who left Australia do you regret it?”

I’m looking for an answer on a silver platter, rather than walking the path of faith.

With Chat GPT, Uber Eats (Or Gojek, toot toot!) and all the other conveniences of our modern world— our faith, our relationship with God will NEVER be reduced to convenience or comfort.

You can’t get God on UberEats.

God will always call us to His enduring Truth and to meet Him, we must look beyond the shallow and unhinged need to know and to have everything NOW.

We may be able to order coconut water and eggs to our door, but God won’t condense himself or our relationship with Him to that format.

He will always call us to what is pure and true, and to hear Him, we must be willing to turn from what is fake and fast.

Love, PK XX

PS. We celebrated Sol’s 8th birthday in Bali! She had the best time and was so grateful she got to spend it with Uncle Benne. We had lunch in an aquarium, which is pretty neat!

These are some words my mum wrote for her.