Margo Huss is a loving Christian mother of 7 and wife of a Muslim Christian convert. She enjoys musing on hot political and philosophical issues from on the ground and through life in Christ.
A recovering Gen X-er, she offers a refreshingly honest, if not muesli-brained and opinionated view on current cultural issues. Contrary to what some might believe, she is open to new ideas and is a life-long learner.
Typically female, she transcends factual information and thinks she is always right. She may occasionally agree with you, though you will never know. You are wrong even when you are right. You may find her mainstream takes luke warm, but her faith runs deep and hot.
You can block her, abuse her, or simply enjoy interacting with her, but you cannot shut her up.
“God uses broken things. It takes broken soil to produce a crop, broken clouds to give rain, broken grain to give bread, broken bread to give strength. It is the broken alabaster box that gives forth perfume. It is Peter, weeping bitterly, who returns to greater power than ever.” ―Vance Havner
I run a small business from home which involves taking used or donated clothing and fabric, still in moderate condition, and turning them into funky, reversible shopping bags. I am currently in the process of revamping the business model to incorporate other products and services, however at the moment, it’s predominantly all about bags. The process of separating the good pieces, whilst strengthening and reinforcing the more worn out ones, is time consuming. It is no easy feat, but a task worth pursuing as some pieces are so unique, it would be a waste to throw them out. Perseverance is a labour of love, a fact creators of anything beautiful and unique are well aware. We see the potential in almost everything.
Our creator God sees more than potential. He sees purpose. He desires to fill and repair us from the inside out. As with damaged, discarded, worn out fabric, so are we lost, used and abused. We are tattered souls looking for a saviour to stitch us whole again, to make something beautiful, purposeful, and worthy out of our lives. Some of us look for spiritual healing, others physical. Without the healing power of Christ Jesus, we find neither spiritual nor physical, and will forever remain damaged goods.
Whether we choose to cry out to Jesus or not, we cannot fix ourselves, the world will not right all wrongs and recycled fabric will not magically become bags. Some of us look for a sign of God’s existence, maybe an audible voice or a dream, but a wicked and adulterous generation seeks after a sign, and no sign shall be given (Matt 16:4).
It is in the depths of our consciences, where Jesus speaks. He is the still soft voice prompting us to listen. This requires a humbling of the self, a bowing of the knees, a surrendering of pride, and a faith which trusts that with God, all things are possible (Mark 9:23). If at first, you do not find Him, try, try again and again and again. Never stop trying. God wants to be found by you. His grace is sufficient. Find healing, purpose and freedom in Christ, and be made whole again.
“Bless you prison, bless you for being in my life. For there, lying upon the rotting prison straw, I came to realize that the object of life is not prosperity as we are made to believe, but the maturity of the human soul.” ― Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago 1918–1956.
Life is often unfair, one could argue we are predestined for a purpose. Metaphorically, we each represent a piece on the chessboard. There are the pawns which make up the majority, with the rest of the pieces being the aristocrats, ruling class and global elite.
The pawn is the least powerful, largely used as cannon fodder, and is only able to advance when supported by other pawns and powerful players. It is the most vulnerable when isolated, and whenever it is able to cross over to the opponent’s side, it is promoted Queen, an almost insurmountable task and often only made possible if it advantages what’s left of the ruling class. The word “pawn” derived from the French “peon”, is a Medieval Latin term for “foot soldier”, otherwise known as “peasant” or “farmer”. The pawn is the little guy.
According to Hegelian Dialectic, we are trapped in multiple states of being, but we refuse to see we are destined for either power, servitude, then death. Some of us are deluded into thinking we can make it across to the other side, to become kings and queens, aristocratic masters on the world’s domain or masters of our own minute universe.
As pawns on the chessboard of life, we are the little guys playing for a king to whom we naively pledged allegiance. Whether that king is Israel, Palestine, Ukraine, Russia, some multimillion dollar company, or Mother Earth. We are complicit in our own enslavement. Thinking we have power over our choices, we take sides and jump on band wagons indiscriminately because we think we know everything.
In fact, we know nothing, we have no power, and our choices are manipulated. Everyday, we are dialectically predisposed to choose how we spend our time and resources and most that time is made up by doing their bidding. Whether it be consuming their latest marketed gadget, ideology or poison. The system is set up against us.
The world’s system is an algorithm set up like a chess game with the programmers knowing the multiple, limited moves each of us can make and have made, with most of our moves and circumstances determined by our start in life, our birthplace, race, and inheritance being out of our control. We are either white or black. Whilst that may be the reality, God is yesterday, today and tomorrow, always in control.
Thankfully in Christ, we have a Creator to whom we can turn, a just King. He designed us with free will, the ability to choose right from wrong, and good from evil. Whilst He may not have invented the chessboard or the machinations behind every corrupt system, He is still on His throne, waiting for us to realise the futility and vanity of striving to get the other side. Instead, we can accept Him throughout the process, transcend the system and do all things with Him in mind as our true and loving Saviour. He paved a way of escape from serving the unjust kings when He sent His son to die for us.
Jesus is the panacea to life’s injustices, He loves the little guy. We can share in His victory over sin and death, and live a truly purposeful life. But with that comes a dying. We must die to our sinful nature, the desire to consume, and be lords and rulers of our own universe. Our lives need to be fully surrendered to Him.
Whilst the ruling class and others around us seem to prosper with every shrewd, calculated, conniving move, Jesus promises to one day “pour contempt on them and cause them to wander in the wilderness” (Ps 107:40). He does not take us out of the game, instead He allows us to continue, to strengthen our faith in Him, and share His truth with others. Those who die to themselves, and choose to serve Him will ultimately be the victors. “….Death is swallowed up in victory.” (I Cor 15:54 NKJV)
Just like the chess game comes to an end, this world is not our final destination, and will soon come to an end. Heaven and Hell are eternal, our souls are eternal, and though the powers that be, call us “peon”, Jesus calls us to Him, a Royal nation, His own peculiar people. Our servitude and striving for justice and goodness is not futile in Christ. There is power in being the blessed poor in spirit. We will see the kingdom of God. Trust Him.
“Blessed are the PEON in spirit, For theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, For they shall be comforted. Blessed are the MEEK, For they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are those who HUNGER and THIRST for righteousness, For they shall be filled.” (Matt 5:3-10)
You told us to stay home for 2 weeks to ‘flatten the curve’. And so we did what you asked and 18 months later we are still locked in our homes.
You kept brothels open but closed churches.
You tell us you are “following the science” whilst subjecting us to arbitrary restrictions with zero basis in science.
You said “we’re all in this together” while we lost our jobs and you got pay rises.
You made us quarantine in small hotel rooms while making special rules for Hollywood stars.
You keep Australian citizens from returning home while allowing Caitlyn Jenner into the country to film Big Brother.
You refuse individuals the ability to visit relatives interstate but give special exemptions to entire football teams.
You tell us that masks are unsafe, then change your mind and punish people who don’t wear masks.
You tell us AZ is unsafe for under 60s, then only unsafe for under 50s and now urge us all to get it, sneering at us if we hesitate to follow your ever-changing advice.
You said we can’t go overseas but that you simply must go overseas to pitch for the Olympics.
And now, of course, you tell us that last year’s BLM march was safe but that our protest for freedom is a super spreader.
I attended Melbourne’s very first freedom day held on Mother’s Day at the start of our first lockdown back in 2020. Approximately a hundred people were present, compared to what seemed like a thousand police officers. It was highly intimidating, my daughters were petrified and worried we would be arrested, as so many were being dragged away by up to ten officers per dissenter. Today’s rally however, was remarkably different, it was truly a sight to behold as thousands gathered en masse in the centre of Melbourne to march against ungodly Covid mandates inflicted upon us by our treacherous government.
It started at Lonsdale St. and as the crowd grew and flags flew, an almost equal number of Victoria Police stood ready, encompassing about cries of freedom, laughter and unity. But nothing was going to stop the people today, there were too many of us. Melbourne came to life as the streets once again became the cosmopolitan, melting pot for which it was once famously renowned. Things felt “normal” again, we could have been at a Moomba Parade cheering on the floats or at a Grand Final Parade, it was oddly nostalgic. Though beneath the jovial facade was the sense that things were far from okay, we knew this was not a parade and we lamented the life we once took for granted. In amongst the crowd, rising above the noise was Hope, an Evangelist, a voice crying in the wilderness, Jesus.
Pray for Melbourne, pray for those who fear death, and “pray for those who rule over us, that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty” (1 Tim 2:1-4). At the same time, resist ungodly diktats according to convictions given you by the Holy Spirit, and submit, but do not obey (Right Minds).
“If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?” Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago 1918–1956.
Nothing has caused more division as far as I know, than the age of Covid19. The debate goes beyond the left/right dichotomy, aligning people from all walks of life who otherwise would have nothing in common. The point of difference and unity is the mask, a literal representation of all that is wrong with today. It seems a tiny thing in light of the bigger issues, though unfortunately, it holds deeper implications and as such, has arguably become 21st century’s most divisive issue, even causing rifts in the Christian community.
Fall outs, arguments, and literal fights are breaking out everywhere, on the ground and on-line. The problem is, deep down we know it’s all one big fat lie, whichever camp you find yourself, whether Christian or not, we all know we are being lied to. Some of us either haven’t accepted it yet, or have much to gain from the lies. These are confusing and scary times, but take heart and remember, God’s word hosts a wealth of wisdom and has proven to be a source of strength.
We can hardly blame those who fell for the narrative, after all, mainstream media and the corporate oligarchs can sound quite convincing blasting repeatedly from zombie boxes. This is otherwise known as a type of brainwashing. God’s word says, they shall be sent a strong delusion, that they should believe a lie (2 Thess 2:11-12 KJV). It beggars belief that anyone would intentionally support an obvious lie, yet here we are with so many masking up complicit in that lie, so convinced that a mask will save them from dying.
Death is a part of life and living means eventually dying. Human beings are a resilient folk, having survived multiple plagues throughout history. We are still here. Let the evolutionary process do its job, stop partaking in the lie and pacifying people’s fears by wearing a mask. Embrace faith over fear. If we, being children of the Most High are the light of the world, perhaps it is time to lose the masks, proclaim the freedom we have in Christ, and encourage others not to live in fear, “for you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord: walk as children of light” (Eph 5:8 KJV).
Whilst masking off is not the same as proselytising in the frontline on the Gaza strip, it can be almost as scary. People actually pray before going out mask off. Sure it might take time for others to draw those conclusions but allow God to work through you. Let His word go out freely, in love, boldly, let your countenance shine as the light in this dark and fearful world. God says to fear not, ‘”peace I leave you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John 14:27, KJV). The world can promise you peace if you do everything their way, but it is not God’s peace that surpasses all understanding.
For those who mask off daily enduring the bitter looks, the grumbling behind masks, the verbal abuse and the passive aggressive stalking, and intimidation tactics, continue smiling. We know death comes to us all and it may not come through the virus, but we also know masks will not protect us when our time is up. Those who don that mask daily do not know better, let’s show them there is nothing to fear by smiling at death. And if they happen to ask you where your mask is, maybe tell them where your faith is instead.
Besides being locked up in Communist State Victoriastan, we have also recently endured extremely low temperatures, severe biting winds and falling debris everywhere. The state is a literal, spiritual, and economic mess!
So this morning when I received a text re: a power outage at the kids’ school, deeply suppressed feelings of fear and panic floated to the surface. My mind leapt forward to apocalyptic end time movies wherein people are storming their local grocery stores, raiding them for supplies, and I saw myself without power, heat or any form of communication, looking very small, and feeling truly vulnerable.
In that same moment, a text came in from my pastor re: tonight’s Bible Study. Naturally, I shared my fears and proceeded to interrogate him as to whether the Church had a plan for a time where there will be fuel shortages and power outages, making it impossible for us to fellowship. I don’t know any people of faith neighboring me, my church is all over the world. I suggested it might be worth investing in bikes as another means of travel for when that time ever arrived. “We need a plan!” I messaged desperately.
This was sent in response. 1 John 5:4 “For everyone who has been born of God overcomes the world. And this is the victory that has overcome the world-our faith.” Amazing how God’s word is always a calming voice, alleviating all fears.
At the end of everything, all we have is our Faith and Jesus or faith in Christ. Are you in the faith? Praise and worship in times of angst and fear, allow God to take you to that higher place and FEAR NOT.
A comedy of manners poking fun at the bourgeoisie, apathetic to and complicit in the rise of communism and other evils. The constant interruptions to social feastings offer depth to otherwise meaningless, banal lives. Reality and truth lies beneath beautiful facades in comical ways, yet are continuously ignored, avoided or brushed away by the constant move toward the next unsatisfying social occasion. A fictional true story with which we can all identify. We can laugh at ourselves or wake up to the truth and do something about it or we can do both. Sadly funny, made me laugh whilst making me hungry at the same time, literally!
“Only those who decline to scramble up the career ladder are interesting as human beings. Nothing is more boring than a man with a career.” ― Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago 1918–1956
Being a mum in the 21st century of woke idealogues, cultural degenerates and racial propagandists is challenging to say the least. Keenly aware of the cultural and political climate surrounding us, most red-pilled mummas are forced to contend with the evil spirit of this age at a personal and spiritual level. We are in the business of intentionally and consistently countering every nefarious jab at our young, mindless, impressionable off-spring. It’s where the rubber hits the road we are affected and bombarded daily, and not just in the muesli bar aisles of Coles supermarkets where specials beckon us consume endlessly, but in our families, schools and churches.
It’s the middle of the road mummas whose hearts break when we see our children being indoctrinated by leftist dogma, the degenerate entertainment industry and flesh-feeding consumer lifestyle. It’s our children forced to accept feminism, transgendarism and anti-Christianism. What are mums to do but shut up, grin, and bear it, join a political party or lobby group or any group and get in the ring and fight like crazy Karens shouting for people to wake up and take the red pill. There is room for all that and more, in Christ. Until we swallow the Jesus pill, we can never be truly effective or red-pilled.
Having raised seven human beings of my own, I can tell you firsthand, sin lives in the heart of every individual. From the minute these beautiful babes are born, they have needs, sometimes we can fulfil their ever-longing, somewhat parasitical needs, often we cannot. Try as we might to establish near perfect lives for our less than perfect offspring, we fail every time. Well-intentioned mums try desperately to protect our children from the ills of the world to the point of eliminating competition, keeping up with the Jones’ and pandering to their every desire. All the while, unintentionally fuelling the evil onslaught inflicted upon us by the powers that be, through consumerism and hedonism. Wrapping our children in cotton wool, we added to the world’s problems. We fell for the cultural narrative, aspiring to perfectionism through the aesthetically pleasing, luxury Western lifestyle. Personally, I imagined sending my children to childcare and dreamt of ways to earn more, be more and have more. After all, life was for the taking, carpe diem, right? Wrong. Turns out, life and living are more than the endless consumption of goods and services.
Thank God, I woke up! And not “woke” in the liberal sense of the word, I mean spiritually awakened. In Christ. So I spent most of the other half of mumma life purposely resisting the culture. In a desperate attempt to protect our children from the potential degeneracy encroaching upon their lives, we pulled them out of school and home-schooled. We controlled their friendships, social media and entertainment, whilst immersing them deeply in the church, hoping all this would lead to them resisting the culture for themselves and ultimately their salvation. At this point, the closest we have come to achieving these goals are 2 baptisms and constant backsliding. The result of twenty plus years of resistance, censorship, pushback, constant infighting, debates, heartbreak, and pain has resulted in very little on their spiritual and social lives. Sure, I get glimpses of hope in some interactions, but only Christ knows and understands the depths and needs of the human heart.
Society reflects the family, so whilst muesli-brained mummas look out for the specials, we know whom to look for as especially needed to fight back against the spirit of this age. It’s by the power of Christ we make that umpteenth phone call to a teacher regarding inappropriate content in our students’ health curriculum. It’s the love of God which compels our fingers take to the keyboard to write yet another email on why we think a book should be banned from the reading list.
It is we who are forced to watch prayerfully and almost haplessly as our children are tattooed, prostituted, and brainwashed by the cultural imaginary. We endure their eye rolls and their back chatting whilst ignoring their constant requests for the latest gadgets and fads. We are the ones desperately pleading with them to understand the lyrics of the latest song by that new degenerate rap (BS) artist. We caution them to rethink the Tik Tok lives through which they vicariously live, to put on a longer skirt or longer top or just to cover their butts! We beg them not to watch the latest Hollywood blockbuster or at the very least, question the underlying ideology in the movie wherein girls can do anything, and boys cannot. It’s a painstakingly relentless, unthankful task and we are the true minorities in a world too cool for mums like us.
Taken largely for granted, we are the home-makers and home-bakers, the full-time mums working hard in the trenches to keep life traditionally Christian and untainted by the evil all around and within us. We are the ones on our knees, daily praying for their souls, hoping against hope they survive the onslaught of daily evils encroaching upon their half-brained minds. It’s an understatement to say it’s bloody difficult and yes, we cry much, we also laugh much, we could be diagnosed as bipolar. Sometimes we need a drink or two, maybe three. Sometimes we even drink with our adult children, cos what the heck, we’ve tried everything else. We need some fun too.
The culture war has always been fought for in the frontlines by every day, ordinary people, like muesli-brained mummas. Political activism, protests, lobbying govt, campaigning and pinpointing groups to blame can make a whole lot of sense on a superficial level, but the big and deeper picture is in the minutia. Where Black Lives Matter (BLM), Antifa, degenerate Marxist groups and corrupt governments seek to tear down the God-ordained, natural order of things, a White Lives Matter (WLM) movement springs up in opposition.
Each group can identify the source of their oppression, give reasons for their narrative, and justify their existence. These groups, like us mummas, are simply staking out a place that’s ours. A place for our children, a safe place wherein we can all feel a sense of belonging, a place where justice prevails, a place of like-minds, of peace, of goodness. Isn’t that what most people want, peace, love and dare I say, kumbaya. We want to live in communities which reflect ourselves, a place where most people look like us, talk like us and walk like us. We rarely enjoy confrontation and the constant challenge of having to defend our values, beliefs, and existence.
As mummas living in the reality that exists, we continue to speak out daily, lovingly, often angrily. We do so in the hopes of establishing a near perfect utopia. Whilst we may not be in positions of notoriety, infamous for open activism or held up as martyrs in the public domain, it’s the hand that rocks the cradle that rules the world. It is the muesli mummas globally, quietly fighting in the unseen places. Our war is one that is intimately spiritual and heart-breakingly personal. It is in Christ from whence we must launch all our battles and remember always, we may impact a whole generation, but we may only impact one soul. So before going out to battle, take the Jesus pill, wash it down with some water, and with a helping of mumma’s muesli, maybe, just maybe, the battle on all fronts will not only be fruitful and meaningful but eternally victorious.
“Unless the LORD builds the house, they labour in vain who build it; Unless the LORD guards the city, The watchman stays awake in vain.” Psalms 127:1 NKJV https://www.bible.com/114/psa.127.1.nkjv
And the opening of the prison to thosewhoare bound;
To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord,
And the day of vengeance of our God;
To comfort all who mourn,
To console those who mourn in Zion,
To give them beauty for ashes,
The oil of joy for mourning,
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
That they may be called trees of righteousness,
The planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.”
And they shall rebuild the old ruins,
They shall raise up the former desolations,
And they shall repair the ruined cities,
The desolations of many generations.” (Isa 61:2-4)
Formerly a home-schooling family of nine, on a single income and a tight budget, we learned to value everything, rarely threw anything out, and always tried to look for creative ways to recycle. We would practice textiles and design using old clothes, moderately worn out linen or marked down fabric purchased from op-shops.
Building on the philosophy which underpinned the quilting industry, our family business was born. Beauty for Ashes has been 20 years in the making but we now intentionally rescue, restore, and re-purpose fabric into reversible, washable, funky bags.
Having recently survived a critical life event, our desire is to pay forward our blessings to others who may be or are going through similar situations. As with our philosophy on unwanted fabric, we believe there is no life too far gone or beyond reach. Every life is valuable and with the right tools and support, restoration and transformation is possible.
When you purchase the Beauty for Ashes bags, you are in the business of restoring, empowering and re-purposing lives. No two bags are alike and are as unique as each individual’s fingerprint. Made at home, with love, by a loving Australian family.
Beauty For Ashes, Restoration 