Be kind to yourself

How strange!
Here I am again at 1.15am! Maybe this is my writing time.

It's just over two weeks since my mum went into hospital and just over one since she moved to heaven. It's a strange time, these days between a bereavement and a funeral. We have been busy bees between us, Dad, sis and I, sorting out the formalities, the necessary administrative deeds and deciding on what things need to be gone through and cleared away. There is a LOT to do and a lot of sensitivity to take on in the doing of it. Sometimes, you only find out you need this sensitivity AFTER you have done the deed that shouldn't have been done! In such cases, it's good to have learned to say sorry, to forgive and to keep moving forward...making a mental note to think next time!

Within all of this hive of activity, however fit and active you usually are, it is amazing how tiredness, weariness and even exhaustion can hit you at any point in a day. It can turn an ordinary encounter into an ordeal. An impulse birthed in a train of thought has to be wrestled into submission to avoid carrying it out and landing you in prison. 

It was Steve Wiens who said this about parenthood but, in grief I identified completely with it in the face of an insensitive remark....

'I usually smile and give some sort of guffaw, but inside, I secretly want to hold those people under water. Just for a minute or so. Just until they panic a little.'

But, I can thankfully say that I have enough fingers to count on a two-fingered hand, the number of times someone has opened their mouth in the last two weeks to let 'stupid' out.

Fortunately, the events of the last days have not been as traumatic an experience as some folk have and that surely helps. What I have learned, however, is that in this period of time, I still have to be kind to myself. I have to treat myself as I would treat someone else in my position. Sit myself down. Put my feet up and veg out in front of the TV, drawing a big black line at Jeremy Kyle though! Let someone else shop and cook dinner or just go to my bed at random times and close my eyes; drink coffee with evaporated milk and real sugar, not sweetener, and not worry about calorie content - not today anyway; put on a bit of chilling music, focus on a heavenly Dad that loves me and let Him do that just because. 

He doesn't want me to 'do'. He just wants me to 'be'. In my body, heart and spirit, I can know the truth of Psalm 55:22 - 'Pile your troubles on God's shoulders - He'll carry your load; He'll help you out' (The Message)

It's OK not to be competent; not to be Superwoman. When others offer help, take it - even if you don't think you need it. People like to be needed. It's OK not to (brace yourselves for this...) answer the phone! It's OK to ask someone to cover your duty at church - or, as I did, to totally forget. Perfection is not the target. Grief and its effects are not forever. 

In creating us, God shows us that we need one another. Bereavement is a way of discovering that from every angle; 'need' in all its fullness. From 'feeling' to 'dealing' - feeling one's own sadness or that of others; dealing with oneself or with others, the competent or the well-meaning - it's all a learning curve. Whatever the situation, be kind.

In the meantime, I find there is no need to write a book entitled, 

'Since Strangling Isn't An Option'.

Someone has beaten me to it!

Destination: Home

( With reference to my previous post ...and you might like to play this as some point )

Yesterday afternoon, the week's lack of sleep caught up. I woke in a strange room in a strange little bed. I tried to focus my eyes and remember where I was, dragging memory from the back of my head. I turned and saw the back of my sister and after a few more moments of struggle I said, 'Jane. I know I am supposed to be here but I can't think what this is. Where are we?'

She laughed. 'We're in the hospital with mum.'

Then I remembered.

For the past nine days, Dad Jane and myself, occasionally accompanied by other family members, had been in and out - mainly in - of the hospital, keeping watch by mum's bed. For the last four nights, it had been a bit of a roller coaster in that each night held a period of time when the room went quiet as her breathing changed and we awaited her last moments on earth. Then she would somehow make it through. Dad joked once that it was because the worship songs and hymns we would sing or play around her strengthened her. Whatever it was, she made it through to the next day. My film buff daughter, Katie, once announced that 'Nanny has more endings than The Lord of the Rings!' and we all laughed those healing laughs you get occasionally in times of grief.

I swung my legs off the fold-up bed I had woken on. Just then, an agency nurse entered the room and asked us, 'I know your mum is nil by mouth but could you please fill in a menu card for the room?' I replied that we hadn't had to fill one in for days now but she said that she had been asked to leave it. Hmmm! OK! Then, I had one of those 'moments of revelation' within the indignation and said to my sister that perhaps this was something prophetic and maybe it was God giving us the heads-up that someone else would need this room tomorrow. So I filled in the card with the choices of meal that I thought mum would have picked.
As I rose and walked round the bed, Jane was doing something beautifying to mum and immediately I thought, a bit crossly 'What are you doing that for? Mum is dying!' but then I remembered that Jane had commented previously, when I questioned something she'd done, that we all have to deal with things in our own way. So I let her carry on. I imagined what Mum would be thinking and I smiled.

It had been a very difficult few days to now with Mum being so ill and yet so precious too. Dad had commented that it was sad that things had gone on so long and yet, Jane and I reminded him, we had such special times together as family; conversations of such intimacy and honesty we would never have experienced; support and love of one another; being able to look after Mum - to stroke her hands, arms and face which she would NEVER have let us do had she been well. For whatever reason, she didn't do touchy-feely stuff; spending time in each other's company and finding strength in all these things that we could never have imagined.

Photo by Katie

Around her bed some nights, we would pray over her; each of us bowing over her to give our permission for her to leave us - even Dad - though when she chose to continue her grip on life, we remembered her oft' repeated phrase, 'I will do it when I am ready!! We would strike up in holy songs, with Jane and I reviving a practice of our childhood in our shared bedroom, of singing all the catholic hymns we remembered from our schooldays when we went to church 2 or 3 times a week. Mum continued to look peaceful and calm, with only brief distress showing in the times of being turned or changed in her bed. We shared some of our funny stories about our times with her which again broke out in laughter and hilarity. One of my favourites was from our eldest daughter, Elizabeth who was found by Nanny one day in a cupboard playing 'Barbies' with Mum's statues of the Virgin Mary! I am sure that caused a chuckle around the Throne Room though I don't know if Mum was particularly impressed. I bet she went away with a secret smile though.

There were tense times too. It is bound to happen in the absence of good sleep, amidst worry over a loved one, and spending so much time together. But, determined that Mum's bedside was not to be a place of anger or tension, we learned how to be honest, make allowances for one another, deal with our feelings and say what's on our mind with the commitment to seek to understand and come out stronger together at the end. Offense makes us separate ourselves from one another. To recognise when we are offended and choose not to stay offended, means that love can grow.

When the final hour came, we were all there. My younger sister had arrived. My Dad turned up with one of my daughters. I was so glad to see him since by now, Mum had been looking very up and down. With her now-habit of seeing the day out, we had suggested to Dad earlier that he could take the daytime off with his old practice of attending a local football game by way of a relief of tension and to enjoy the glorious sunshine and fresh air of the day. He had been an absolute pillar of strength, grace and love throughout all of this time and was looking SO tired when he had left yet another all night vigil at 6am that morning. God is good because Dad said later that he was on his way when he felt he should not go to the match and come back instead. At his arrival, we sat around the bed and wittered on cheerily about stuff until it was obvious that Mum was really ready to leave.

The next ten minutes were free-flowing with tears, hugs and hand-holding and when her spirit had gone and her heart had drummed its final beat, we sat awhile. I thought, in one of those mega-short moments during which you somehow have time to think a million things, of such a lot that the last weeks had held and of memories from healthy times, dipping into what the future might hold for my lovely Dad, until I returned to the present.
I leaned over to brush Mum's hair a final time, suddenly mindful of another childhood memory of how, every time she left for her night shift at the hospital where she had worked, she used to ask me to check that the back of her hair looked right and was combed in place. I found myself thinking gladly about Jane's prissying-up of Mum earlier. Mum was always one to tell us to wear clean knickers before we went out in case we were ever taken to hospital from an accident. We tended to one or two final 'straightenings' for our lovely Mum. Then it was done. Just in this moment, as far as she could in the circumstances, she looked the Biz here on earth.
She is, by now, in her new body and wondering why she didn't do this earlier as she reunites with her own Mum and enjoys the new home that Jesus has been two thousand years in the preparing.

I found this lovely sentiment...

I suspect that those stars twinkling there for Mum will more likely be SOS signals from St Peter, asking us,
'Actually, how would you feel about taking her back?'

Today, the person who now occupies her old hospital room will have munched through two meals Mum would have enjoyed on earth.

To the angel on kitchen duty in the heavenlies, my Mum's menu choice for today is the one that begins with '20 Silk Cut!

I love you, Mum xx

ADDENDUM: I would also like to pay tribute to two other amazing men - my Hubby, Nod and brother-in-law, Paul who were totally giving in their running to and fro between home and hospital, bringing in daily top-ups of food and drink and allowing Jane and I space and absence from our beds. We love you guys too. What gifts you are.

Life goes on...and on!

It's 1.15am.

I have come downstairs for a cup of warm milk.

The telly is flicked on and there is a programme on about Spitfire planes. An elderly lady recounts with joy how wonderful it was to be working on Spitfire planes in the war and how much she loved her job. She is a sweet little thing with a bit of chinny hair, a face-brightening smile and an unassuming way about her. You would pass her in the street without a second thought to the exciting life she knows herself to have led.

Other TV channels announce that the Sex Inspectors want to talk about bedroom blues; QVC sells us a showcase of beauty; Andrew Marr educates us about the History of the World and Road Wars continue on the streets of Britain.

Facebook has wedding and baby joys amidst a whole host of either inane or meaningful other postings. Life goes on. 

Mostly.

Meanwhile, a few minutes up the road, my feisty, 82 year old mum clings to life in a hospital bed, defying the odds - again! and is watched over by my dad - her husband of 57 years. With me today, he has wondered - again - whether this is the last call. Then she rallies - again - before slipping back into a deep sleep with the occasional twitch of a limb, just to let you know for sure that she is not done fighting. It may or may not end soon. There is no point guessing. Each evening's uncertainties, however, have given me reason during the night hours, to think over life together, smile about so much, with memories recalled and the strange joys to be found in them, despite tragedy or hardship.

This isn't meant to be a melancholy or self-pitying post but a simple recognition that everywhere in the world for many people, life goes on as it always does whilst others are in life situations of hardship, grief or turmoil that have the potential to flip a world upside down.

Mom 'n me up the Lickeys. Love you, Mom

The last 6 weeks or so have held the particular privilege of being able and near enough to give extra help in the care of my mum, aided when she can at some visits by my 'able, gutsy and get-things-moving' middle sis, though Dad has done the lion's share,  and borne the burden of our funny old bird creeping slowly deeper into the loss of memory and awareness, brought about by vascular dementia. My B&B-running younger sis has supported with phonecalls and dashed from her post when bookings allow. (I would NOT do that job)
Having nursed sufferers of dementia before, myself, it was always a beautiful duty to care for them. As nursing staff, we had hardly ever known our residents in their 'previous' life and took them as we found them but always acknowledging that often, it was great turmoil to the family, who had grown and known years and years of 'normality' with their vibrant, alert family members, only to see them now reduced to a comparatively empty shell with varying degrees still, of passion for life. Within these diminishing lives, they found their own way of doing life...from oblivious contentment to stick-waving threats and language that, out on the street, could get you arrested in the presence of a policeman! My kids laugh gleefully even now in recalling my encounter with a certain gent who took to calling me 'the blonde b*****d' and trying to whack me with his walking stick!

Dementia, cancer, any sort of sickness is an outrage. Sickness robs. Sickness threatens. Sickness cripples. Sickness is not how life was meant to be. 

This afternoon, as I sat watching the ebb and flow of life in the body of my mum, sad as it was in many ways, there was hope right there. I prayed for her out loud so she could hear me, as I have done often in past years. I know God loves her. I know she trusted Him and spoke to Him about us all every night. I know Jesus died for her to bring her eternal life after death, whenever that comes. He did the same for me; for every single person whose heart beats. 

Sickness is sad. Death is a bugger. Death can be devastating. BUT death has no dominion over us because Jesus died so that we can have the assurance of glorious eternal life. Our part in that is to give our lives to God and live them as Jesus showed us they could be lived. Abundance of life in this world. Hope for the future. Assurance of heaven - eternity with God, not the eternal fire.

On 5th December 1982, someone showed me the Bridge Illustration following a bible study I had reluctantly attended and asked me where I stood on the Bridge. I said I probably was on the left hand arm of the cross at that time and they challenged me with the question, 'What is stopping you praying the prayer and crossing right over?'

To be honest, I didn't have a good reason to say anything other than, 'Nothing.'

'So,' they said, 'Pray the prayer!'

So I did. I prayed that prayer because I was too chicken not to, though I was a bit miffed at feeling pushed into a corner.

On my way home that night, I railed a bit at God.

'Look!' I moaned, 'I don't want to do all that going to church, praying and reading the bible stuff so if this is going to mean anything, You will have to show me.'

Long story short, it was THE best and most life-changing decision of my life. Besides having the very presence and power of my Heavenly Father in my life and a beautiful new relationship with Him, I have the ultimate knowledge of life after death with Him. Beauty!

Try it yourself if you haven't already. Please. You have nothing to lose but everything to gain.

We have always joked that Mum will flippin' well outlive us all despite several dicings with death, and smoking for 70 years. Or maybe because God just isn't ready for the hassle of having her up there with Him! But for me, any sadness at finally losing her when Father calls her from this earth, will be lightened by the knowledge that I WILL see her again. And she will be well. Forever.

As a bonus, do watch this - 

https://www.facebook.com/humanthemovie/videos/468301476675049/?pnref=story

Off to David's Tent

This time tomorrow, I will be under a massive canvas, enjoying the start of seventy two hours non-stop worship in David's Tent. As last year, I plan to stay up for the whole time, enjoying being part of the crowd pouring out a heart of worship to Almighty God. 

I did actually catch a couple of hours snooze in the car and a couple more on someone's floor last year but the whole rest of the time, I had a ball with God. Despite the crowds, it sometimes felt like just Him and me.

I didn't go around with anyone on purpose. I  just wanted to experience that time in the presence of God amongst His people. I think part of that was allowing myself to be the introvert that I am but I felt a great freedom just to 'be' with God. I soaked (just lay/stood/sat there enjoying the music and the presence of God); I prayed; I enjoyed that occasional conversation; sang my heart out and, a couple of times, danced like a madwoman in a way that I never would have before that point; and I enjoyed the sky, I didn't care what I looked like or smelled like - though I hope the latter was OK! I took perfume and babywipes are wonderful. I had practised putting on a bit of makeup without a mirror, keeping my hair fairly reasonable and had clothes that don't crease badly. I just didn't want to care unnecessarily about those things and this year, I don't feel that I am bothered at all!

Last year I also fasted for the first couple of days to pray and be more unhindered, then THOROUGHLY enjoyed a veggie and humous-filled pitta on the last day, savouring every bite, chew and sensation in my mouth...utterly thankful for it! I really knew and appreciated the meaning of the phrase, 'Party in my mouth.'

So, I am off to pack and repeat the process - thought there will be a big pile of friends there as well that I just didn't know last year. I will get love and hugs a-plenty, I am sure. But the best thing, the very best, will be welling up and over-spilling with worship, in song, silence and all the things of daily life there, from a heart of love for and gladness to be with the Lord and Creator of the Universe; my heavenly Dad. I may even bust a few new moves in celebration!

Who knows?

Eric Johnson once said  that we shouldn't think of our christian walk as being in periods of transition because, as God's children, we are ALWAYS to expect to be in transition. 

2 Corinthians 3:18 (here in the Amplified Version) confirms it.

'And we all...are constantly being transfigured into His very own image in ever-increasing splendour and from one degree of glory to another, which comes from the Lord' (italics mine)

Spiritually, I am constantly changing; just as I do physically. We all do.

This cute picture of an endearing but slightly grimy-looking Diana Spencer as a toddler, gives no hint of the aristocratic family into which she was born nor of the exquisitely beautiful Diana, Princess of Wales, that she was to become some 18 years later and whose life, despite its difficult times, changed others' lives and made better days for so many.

This change didn't happen overnight but little by little, through natural processes and through various choices and circumstances.

Our transformation throughout life may be subtle but if we are purposeful about it, it will happen inevitably. That word, 'transfigured' communicates the sense of change that happened when Jesus was transfigured after His resurrection - SUCH a change that it lit up all around Him. He glowed. 

Sometimes we may not feel like we are changing. Indeed our circumstances may be so difficult or frankly, mind-numbingly tedious at times as to make us wonder what the point of our just-lived day might actually have been. We all have days when it is enough to be grateful we have  from survived from one end of the day to the other (At least, I hope I am not the only one!) but in our journey of following Jesus, forwards is always the way to face, aim and walk!

I watched this video a while back and am reminded of it again now. Take a moment to watch it before you read on.

Good wasn't it?

I was so struck by the way that the artist paints invisibly with the water and then by the simple addition of ink, a picture is formed and all the abstract motion of the colourless brush make sense. Paper comes to life!

It put me in mind of our own recent 'hard' times and how things have happened that seem absolutely purposeless; a waste of time and my life and very frustrating in their apparent lack of direction. But I realised that some of these periods of life are simply God 'painting with water'. He is laying foundations and preparing me to receive the 'ink' of His portrait for my life. So during those times, I can be confident they are not redundant or unprofitable. Indeed, if I do nothing else, I can learn the lessons that David did whilst he was fleeing the murderous King Saul in the desert and 'strengthen myself in the Lord'. That alone will be a great personal benefit. 

I even tried my own ink and water drip - not a great work of art but not bad for a first attempt

(I think the picture will enlarge if you click on it and you may see how, in places, the ink has separated into its component colours to make things even more interesting! God is SO creative.)

But at the same time as I wait to see God's plan pan out, I can look through the misty veil of uncertainty with an expectant heart, knowing that my God, my Father, never sleeps nor forgets me.

I cannot count the number of times a day His thoughts turn to me 

He hasn't loved, grown and gifted me just to leave me languishing without purpose throughout life. So, if this day seems hardly to have had a point, I choose to believe that things have moved on part of a degree; I can choose to take an action that makes that evident; I can even just choose to sink onto my bed and let the love of my Daddy wash over me. Whichever it is, it brings a smile to His face because He knows the way ahead. I can also know that there will definitely be days when I shine for Him, sometimes even when I don't feel shiney but I am making the right choices and His glory shines through me...after all, we are not called to 'Arise and reflect' but to 'Arise and shine'!

I think the idea is supported in this exciting statement from Alan Scott of Causeway Coast Vineyard:
'Believers aren't called to live up to a STANDARD. We are called to live out a STORY. Instead of PERFORMING for God, we get to CREATE with God.'
I love it!

So! If all I or you do today is to stand in front of a mirror and say, confidently, just because it is true... 

'I am constantly being transfigured into His very own image in ever-increasing splendour and from one degree of glory to another, which comes from the Lord',

...we will be declaring the release of that truth over myself and partnering with my Dad to change His world through mine.

And finally, as an encouragement...

No better place

At the end of any day, I like nothing better than to have a nice hot shower to wash off the exertion and get horizontal in my own, king-sized bed.

Some while ago, Hubs and I treated ourselves to some cotton bedding - 400 count pure Egyptian cotton linen. The more you wash it, the softer it gets. It is best on the night following its laundering in the day - washed with my favourite laundry conditioner that smells of Spring, tumbled in the drier and smoothed to near-perfection by beautifully unhindered strokes of the steam iron.

Sadly, this is not my real bed but I wish it was

As soon as I hit the sheets - sometimes literally as I like to scare Hubs by leaping into bed from a distance, occasionally taking a short run-up as I do so - I lie face-down and make the back of my feet like windscreen wipers on that cotton, relishing the softness against my feet and stroking my pillows with my hands and cheek. I stop short of purring contentedly.

I know I am probably not going to sleep when I get to heaven but I hope there will be a place to go and chill from time to time; somewhere to lie down on THE most heavenly soft sheets, eyes closed, and swish my feet whilst I enjoy the sound of the worship out there beyond, in the Throne Room. Meanwhile, here on earth, these gorgeous sheets are part of my idea of heaven after a long day.

As my body rests, and shuffles its contours into the bedding until I am blissfully swathed in duvet and sheets, I almost ALWAYS wonder why I didn't come to bed earlier - I hardly ever go before midnight. It is so NICE to be here. I am relaxed. I am at rest. I have nothing to do except to be. 

I lay there the other night and thanked God for this wonderful bed. 

I was reminded how often, when I have left it a while to read from my bible and spend time with God, I get so enthralled by what I read and by what He has to say to me, I end up with similar thoughts to all the above....WHY do I leave it so long when it is such a delicious experience? Why don't the memories of how wonderful it is to be in that place, spur me on to do so more and more? NO-ONE loves to spend time with me more than my heavenly Father does and He always makes it a special time...whether it is just the peaceful joy of hanging out together; the wonder of growing in the knowledge of Him; the challenge of my willingness to walk the next uncertain steps of life with Him - any and every aspect of my relationship with Him - it is all more than worthwhile and never regretted. Seeking Him out and chatting to Him about life is always worthwhile. Always worth repeating. Always worth the sacrifice.

It also helps keep life in perspective. When I know who I am and Whose I am, it doesn't mean life is all hunky dory, but it makes me feel safe because I am in the place that's best for me. Life is throwing up some shaky stuff at the moment - when isn't it? But I needn't wait to have an end-of-the-day- experience with my Father to talk it through with Him. He is there any time. Patient. Always. Expectant. Ready. 

And He doesn't flinch when I take a running jump towards Him!

Crushing Grapes

The other week, for some unmemorable reason, I was trying to recall the identity of an entertainer from the days of my youth who had the catchphrase, 'Ooh - I am SO excited I could crush a grape!' Being me, I couldn't rest until I knew so hit Google. It was a guy called Stu Francis. I used to love watching him as a teen. He was so funny whether it was on one of those satisfying variety shows or on Crackerjack - THE show for all kids to watch at five to five on a Friday. What brought a bigger smile to my face was the song he sang which included all the funny catchphrases he used to use - have a look and prepare to cringe. Hard to believe that was his 'latest single' though if it was re-released nowadays, it might make Christmas Number One. Stranger tracks have done it!

This grape-crushing phrase came back to me this week...I will clarify later.

The Mendip Hills.
Click on the picture to enlarge it if you want to see it better

Life at the moment seems to drift in and out of periods of uncertainty about life, family, future - very like the picture above. Way out in the distance, there may be some expectations or understanding or even hope of what I will find there but at this time, it is shrouded in secrecy because of the cloud. Nearer, in the middle distance, some things are showing their form but still not very clear or precise. In the foreground, the immediate, things are pretty obvious and identifiable but still there are areas hidden and as yet unexposed. In all areas, there are details of things I won't be sure about until I approach them, until I am nearer or even upon them and when the fog lifts, warmed by the rising sun. At any point, there may be 'no entry' signs or no clear access to the way ahead! 

So as examples, my 'way out in the distance' might include where will we be living and what will the Sweeties be doing? Middle distance I am asking what does our faith-walk look like and what will we be involved with in life? Near time is what is happening in my various relationships and how do I use my days in this time of comparative uncertainty and upheaval?

Then last night, as I was awake and up in the early hours as I sometimes am, my mind turned to some of my favourite verses in the Bible, from Psalm 73 -

photo: Cory Poole Photography

 'Yet I am always with You; You hold me by my right hand; You guide me with Your counsel and after, You will take me into glory. Whom have I in heaven but You? And being with you, there is nothing I desire on earth. My flesh and my heart may fail but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.'

And here was when I thought about crushing the grape! Let me explain.

I had started to fret about uncertainties - isn't it always the way in the dead of night when all is quiet and everyone else is asleep?! I didn't feel very content to trust the 'foggy' areas to God. I always want to know NOW (That is why I read the end of a book first or look up film plots on IMDB!) I didn't even feel particularly close to Him so wasn't convinced about not needing anything else on earth but Him in those moments. 

Then I spied my guitar and picked it up. In the low light of the lamp, I strummed away with a few of the 6 or so chords I know how to play and just sang quietly the things that I knew about who God was and how amazing He is - my shield and defender, my rock, my satisfaction...

This simple act was like the crushing of a grape. 

You don't have to be strong to crush a grape but there is a sense of achievement, albeit a small one, and a certain satisfaction. Those simple small acts can grow. So, say, you start by crushing a grape and maybe move onto popping a plum, bursting a banana and then rip an apple in half with your bare hands! Progression. Satisfaction. Realisation that your experience doesn't stop at grapes. You are more! Inside you, there's more!

Dakota night

So I started worshipping simply and thoughts grew as I sang out. The little things I knew of God, sung out loud to a made up tune, stirred in my head and my spirit. I sang more and gazed long at Him in my imagination. Even the two simplest words, 'You are', sung over and over, penetrated my being and my love grew. He is; He IS; He really is all I need. My trust found its feet again and my burden lifted. I felt wrapped in His peace and deep in His presence. If I didn't need the beauty sleep, I might have gone out into the dark of night to find a puddle! Maybe tomorrow!

The Answer?...

When Hubs and I were away at the Encounter More conference at Causeway Coast Vineyard last week, I flicked over the page of my notebook to continue my frantic scribblings of the inspiring talk, only to be faced with another strange couple of scribbles on my blank page! It seems that, at some point past, one of my offspring (who shall remain nameless to save their blushes) was practising their soon-to-be-married signature in my nice blank-at-the-time book! Awww - how CUTE!

I quickly drew a box round each attempt in order to preserve them for posterity, and continued my own scribbles. I opened the page again this evening to review the notes I had made (Hope you are impressed with that act alone!) and saw the signatures. It made me think about identity. Mine. Ours. Children of God. Each chosen. Each unique and individual

With those practised signatures, my Sweetie was anticipating a change in her identity when she became a wife. Her name would change. Her role would change. Her life would change and she would have someone else, more than her own self to consider, in decisions she would make from that day on. Her relationship with me, her Momma, would shift in its ranking in her life. (Though I still maintain the truth that I have told all my Sweeties, 'You will find someone you love more than me but they will never love you as much as I do.') Another piece of Momma-advice I gave was that every person we meet - however brief that time may be - is an opportunity to change that person's life and we should try to make that change a good one by what we say or how we treat them.  

To get back to the conference, the notes I was looking through were to do with seeing God at work in my home community and two quotes stood out to me at this point by Julian Adams and Tre Sheppard respectively...

(for 'I', read yourself)...

"I am the answer my community is looking for"

"I am the Director of Hope in my city"

These statements may sound outrageous and presumptuous at first. 

Little old me? The Answer? The Director of Hope? 

Yes! Because the truth is, when we have the Holy Spirit in all His fullness living in us, with Jesus' promise that we will do the same as Him and even greater things, we bring something extraordinary with our lives and our presence into all the places we go. We ARE the fragrance of Christ and carry His glory. We change atmospheres because of our relationship with the living, loving, Almighty God. My choices in each interaction breathes hope, healing and life into others. The way I do it will fit the way God has made me - though I may also cross a comfort zone or two along the way.

Tre adds, " Be the God-flavour in areas that have lost their taste for God."

I love that. In choosing to believe that my relationship with Jesus changes me, I change life for others too. I may not FEEL that I carry the fragrance of Jesus, but I DO! He looms large in the small things that I do. He still looms large in the big steps I take 'over my edge'. The glory is always His.

Whilst I still do go into a coffee shop just to have a quiet drink, sometimes I purposefully ask Jesus if there is anyone there that day He wants to speak to through me; sometimes I meander mindlessly along the road or I can talk to Jesus about the street and pray change along it every step of my way; I can pack my groceries in silence or I can strike up a cheery conversation with the checkout server - maybe adding a drink and snack to my shopping to pass to the Big Issue seller outside. I am learning to listen for God to tell me things about folk that only He knows in order to tell it back to them so that they realise there is a loving God that cares intimately about them. I can choose to look sympathetically at a person passing by with an obvious ailment or step out in faith and pray believing prayers for healing with the authority that Jesus passed on. It's all part of the appointment given, the adventure of being the Answer or the Director of Hope in the place where I am at a moment in time - living my life in the different way of living that is called for in  this committed relationship.

If you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much space

Jim Whittaker

A Stormy Day in Portballintrae

SO! Hubs and I are here in Northern Ireland having an extra week break after a fabulous time at Causeway Coast Vineyard's 'Encounter More' conference. WHAT a challenge and inspiration it was. As well as hearing from Alan Scott and being taken out to minister on the streets of Coleraine with Mark Marx and Jason McNamara, we had talks from Rachel Hughes, Pete Greig, Julian Adams and David Ruis and I attended an utterly inspirational seminar by Tre Sheppard about bringing life to our city.
Now we are settled in a beautiful apartment right by the sea at Portballintrae and I am writing this from the living area balcony view, pictured yesterday in all the day's sunshine and blueness.

Today is a different story! The only thing to distinguish the grey sky from the grey sea - WHEN you can see either through the driving rain - is that the sea is a little darker at the moment! Wind splutters and moans through each crevice it can find here in the apartment. And if rain goblins really existed, then they are spitting raindrops through goblinny peashooters at the windows...tat-tat-tatatat! Hubs is currently pushing some zzzzzzzs on the bed after our hectic few days. Me - I LOVE this weather - when I am inside - or properly dressed for it outside!

When my Sweeties were little, whenever we had a storm, I would send them outside to play in their undies (sorry kids) and to dance in the rain which they absolutely LOVED and I loved seeing the joy of it all, enjoying their delighted squeals. Of course, now that they are older and know about lightning being able to strike and kill in storms, they have exclaimed, 'MOM!!! What were you THINKING?!' but it's a great memory. And I BET they will do it with their own offspring...and if they don't, well, what is THIS Nanna for? *sneaky wink*

Now, looking out through the window, I see the waves roll and lunge, compelled by nature towards the beach,  but being attacked by the driving wind seemingly trying to repel them back to the expanse of sea behind. But the waves are single-minded. They only have one goal - to reach the edge of the beach and they push relentlessly on. The wind is not giving up and whips off swathes of spray from the top of each wave as it bows over, tossing the 

surrendered water behind in a shower that is powerless to do anything but submit and sink back into the oblivion of the Big Briny. No glory. No victory this time. Time to bide.

As I watched this fight unfolding, I was mindful that so often, Nature reflects Life. And why wouldn't it? Both have the creative touch of God Almighty. Life can be a sunshiney blue-skyed beach one day and flip over to a gathering storm or a full blown typhoon on another. Unlike the sea, we have a choice in our circumstances, though our choices may resemble the waves. I can push on through the crazy and fulfil my destiny, called out by my Father God and my heart's desires. When I am knocked off course, I can rejoin the fray with renewed determination and purpose or I can settle for what the world tosses at me, bemoan my circumstances, blaming everything and everybody but myself and give up.

Back to my seat now. As the photo (roughly taken with my phone) shows, the storm didn't last. Unexpectedly, despite the weatherman's prediction of a 36 hour stormy onslaught, the storm passed. In the process, beauty broke out. The photo doesn't properly capture the breath-taking brilliance of the rainbow nor quite, the formation of a second just above but it gives witness to the notforeverness of the storm and reminds me that God is present in all our circumstances, even though we may not see it or perceive it until the storm passes.

Later that afternoon, Hubs and I walked down onto the beach and I sat on a stone watching the waves at close quarters, enjoying their thundering power. Enjoy it with me here (though you may want to switch off the sound as it was still mighty windy) and maybe, in the muted watching of it, 'Be still and know that He is God'

The Fallow Field?

Hosea 10:12 says,

'Sow for yourselves righteousness; reap steadfast love; break up your fallow ground for it is time to seek the Lord that He may come and rain righteousness upon you.'

The image of fallow ground has been on my mind for a while - on and off for over a year as it happens but as I am considering new fields now, it seems more pertinent again. 

What new fields? Well, this Friday was the last day of my first year at ESSL and as one chapter of life comes to an end, a new chapter begins and with it, a considering of 'fields'.

Before life's upheavals at church just over a year ago, I know I would never have gone to the School otherwise. For me, there would have been no need to (more about that, maybe, another day). Suffice to say for now that life adventuring with God then felt utterly exhilarating. However, the later, sad circumstances left me feeling rather like Wile E. Cyote as he screeches to a halt after chasing the Road Runner off the edge of a canyon, only to find himself coming to a stop in mid air before plunging, flatly and painfully, into the ground below! So, to cut a story short, I ended up at School in Kent, and letting the 'field' back home turn fallow. It seemed what God was leading me to do - though He had to boot me off several areas of that 'field' and prize my fingers off the tools. Hard stuff!

Meanwhile, alongside this gentle, rough stuff, School started! WOW!
Oh there are so many things to say about School, from the truly amazing people I met there to all the things that we did, lessons we learned and experiences we went through. At times, I felt a bit like a rabbit in the headlights. The first weeks - and occasionally thereafter, I felt tearful a lot of the time but didn't really know why. On reflection, I think it was a mix of being scared and feeling out of my comfort zone, being touched by the yearning love of God for me and my wanting more, more MORE of knowing God myself. Other times, I saw myself as a little waif, stood outside a beautiful home, in the snow with my nose pressed up to the glass looking in at the warmth and family ( I have this image from an old childhood story book of Andersen's 'The Little Match Girl') as I sought to understand things I was seeing and hearing but then accepting the invitation in and pushing my feet over the threshhold of belonging. Yet other times were ones of peace-filled excitement of being amongst a big family who lived, longed for and chased after God with me in ways we each understood and accepted. Other times were just breath-taking with being in awe of each other and God, sharing our lessons and adventures of faith. I will admit that, to me, some times were apparently nutcase. I am admitting absolutely nothing about a rubber chicken, roaring lion or floors littered with bodies! However, I will gladly put my hand up as being part of the reason Gravesend was set on fire on Fridays.

Here we are from a pic of our last day...intrepid adventurers all

I am leaving this BIG as you are better able to see us. I look a bit strange in stance as I was crouching a bit :D

Worship times at the beginning of each School day were so special. Some days, I was thrilled to watch the freedom in others worshipping around me; some times I spent simply lying down, eyes shut and letting the intimate presence of God with ME be my sole joy. Occasionally, I whooped out and danced about myself. Even the realisation that I need to get fitter to enjoy that more didn't spoil the moments of free expression and risk. Creative worship and communion times added wonders of discovery, stretching the boundaries of our encounters in meeting with God as our loving Father. I look forward with anticipation to recreating some of those times in various ways - not just for myself but for others also.
I would really need a book rather than a blog post to get through everything I have to say but doubtless, more mentions will be made of School exploits and outcomes over the coming months.

One significant realisation I have come to in all this time is that, when the life we live, believing it is God's 'Plan A' for us, is disturbed or even seems destroyed, God doesn't replace it with 'Plan B'. He writes us a whole new and exciting 'Plan A' and has so much contained within this plan that it is, it seems to me, as if it was always meant to be. In any case, God's Plan A always puts a smile on His face as He anticipates the smile it will eventually put on ours.

As for the new fields and the relevance to the verse from Hosea at the beginning, watch this space...

Use the space!

I was lying in bed last Wednesday night. It's the night before having to set off for school at North Kent Community Church - now renamed Eastgate - so hubs sleeps in another room so that I don't disturb him when I get up at 4.45am and stumble around getting ready to journey off to Gravesend!

As I lay there in the darkness, thinking about life and stuff, I got chatting to God and said to Him, 'Sometimes, I feel You're not with me at all!'
In His still-small-voice-in-my-spirit way, I heard Him reply,

'Do you ever wonder if I feel the same about you?'

He waits

My eyes snapped open. I lay there and thought about the answer. 

Whilst I felt no condemnation in the question, I did feel a sadness - for both of us; my Daddy and me. Sometimes, he misses me. He LONGS to feel me close to Him. I read my bible and some great christian books. I listen to worship. I do all sorts of christian things. But they are not the same, nor as satisfying for either of us as just being with one another and enjoying 'wasting time' together, chilling, chatting, or just silent together.

'You're right,' I whispered, as I spread my arms wide on the bed in a gesture of adoration and embrace...then...whoops! 

On my left, my outstretched arm met with hubs' empty bed space whilst my right arm flopped over the bedside. I realised suddenly, with a smile, that there I was, a whole king-sized bed to myself, and I was lying in my usual position - right on the edge, leaving no support at all for my open arm! I have this massive bed all to myself but still confine myself to the space I am used to! And I have a massive life too with space-a-plenty!

It made me think about Jesus' promise, 

 'I have come that they may have life 

and have it to the full'

It's so easy to get into a pattern of daily life and carry on in the same way, day after day without realising that actually, there is a whole 'empty space' of that life that we just aren't taking advantage of. I can certainly be happy and thankful with all that I have; all that God has given me but He is itching to give me more in every way. All I have to do is seek, ask, knock. not to settle for plain contentment. Enjoy every blessing that I can. As a parent, I don't wrap gifts for my children to sit on the sideboard. I want them opened to be enjoyed; opened to thrill; opened to expand their lives. How much more does my Heavenly Daddy long for me to discover His gifts, gleefully anticipating their effects and enrichments on my life?

There is 'space' to be used and I intend to start rolling over into it...unless it's night-time...and the night isn't Wednesday!

The journey is worth the destination

Some fields are a darned sight more deceiving than others and when you first consider committing to one that looks good, you just never know what the ground will turn up!

I remember several years ago following our home extension, I decided the time had come to sort out the garden. It needed digging over so I could plant vegetables so I started with bulging enthusiasm. Some weeks, three skips of rubble and a hefty stock of paracetamol and radox bathsalts later, I had level ground and soil that no longer ressembled the remains of a Time Team dig!!! The wretched ground looked SO much easier than it turned out to be but it transpired that the builders hadn't put as much rubble in the skips that they should have. They just covered a lot up with soil! I'm sure the back garden was lowered by several feet by the time I had finished clearing. Had I known how much stuff I would turn up, I could have constructed an outbuilding!

So what is my point?

I guess it's just looking at life and the stuff it throws up at you.

There is a saying...

' IF YOU WANT TO MAKE GOD LAUGH, TELL HIM YOUR PLANS!'

And isn't that the way life turns out! I can look back on times of life when all seemed wonderful and the future seemed generally set, with room for a few outside-the-box adventures on the way but generally, all quite secure and manageable, mainly predictable. Then God laughed!

It puts me in mind of a lovely poem...

THE WEAVER 

My life is but a weaving between the Lord and me

I may not choose the colours - He knows what they should be

Oft' times He weaves in sorrow; and I, in foolish pride, 

Forget He sees the upper, and I the underside

Not till the loom is silent and the shuttles cease to fly

Will God unroll the canvas and reveal the reason why

The dark threads are as needful in the Weaver's skillful hand

As the threads of gold and silver in the pattern He has planned

He knows, He loves, He cares; Nothing this truth can dim.

He gives the very best to those who leave the choice to Him

I know the pictures are of embroidery rather than weaving but it gives a good illustration of the same idea. On the back, the underside - the side of my life that I see whilst God is busy weaving, it can look somewhat untidy as threads cross or are knotted. There is a vague sense that something is being formed and created but, apart from an occasional area that is recognisable as what it is meant to be, it often seems chaotic, messy, tangled and even unnecessary. But then, when it is turned over, to the Creator's side, the embroiderer, the weaver has made something beautiful and complete; precisely placed; intricate in places but perfectly designed. 

In actual large tapestries, only a small portion can be worked on at a time and as each part is completed, the tapestry is wound onto a beam, out of sight so that the weaver can work on the next section. What is already done may not be seen again until the very end, when all is unrolled, revealing a gloriously breath-taking finished piece.

For sure, many parts of life's journey so far are not what I would have chosen for myself. Some are like starting to pick a large stone out of the ground but finding oneself lugging a dirty great boulder out of the way, straining a muscle or two on the path; some bits give a hint of toughness at first but end up feeling like you have unintentionally poked a sewing needle right down behind your fingernail and suffering the ensuing pain of infection and drainings of pus. But there will be punctuations of enjoying the taste of home-grown, lovingly cared-for garden produce or proudly showing off the seemingly effortless beauty of a finished project from your craft space. Such wildly differing textures of life - borne or savoured - ultimately playing their role in making me the person that I am and forming me into the person God sees and delights in, every step of the way. I hope I haven't made the job too difficult for Him on the journey!

Team time

Ahhhhhh - why am I starting this now? 

I am watching my first episode of NCIS in a loooooooong time. I LOVE it. Mark Harmon should smile more often - he looks so GOOD! ...though he is also a very handsome 'smoulderer'!....anyway, less drooling.

I do love watching these programmes...NCIS, CSI series - though not particularly Miami...I get dizzy at the number of times Horatio moves his sunglasses on and off and swings his head so dramatically to the side. It's a wonder he doesn't get nose burn and neck crick!! Hubs once got annoyed and asked why I watched so many of these progs. I said it was to see if I could find a foolproof way of murdering him - not getting caught. He was not amused at the time! But of course, I jest. I would always choose him even over Mark Harmon!

Abby, Tony, Tim, Gibbs, Ziva, Jimmy, Leon and Duckie

I realise the other reason I love these series is because of the interaction and relationships in the 'team' formed by the main characters. 

It is a team with common purpose, each member fully committed. 

Each member is so different They have their own particular strengths and weaknesses that are recognised and supported by other team members. 

They go through times of great triumph, reached by understanding one another, working together with generally good communication and commitment, utilising their skills and accepting or working with one another's shortcomings if necessary.

They have times of distress and failure, disagreement and rebellion but because of their commitment to the team purpose, they are also committed to seeing one another through all kinds of disturbance to the team spirit. They don't accept compromise and hold one another up to high standards of integrity and trust.

Within this working team environment, they solve problems, bring resolution to disaster and save the world...or...hold on...  

...Just shoot the computer because you don't know the process to deactivate the system-linked booby trap!!!!! 

GOOD OL' GIBBS! 
Sometimes the unexpected is the answer. 
(I love that character!)



SO - what's the point? 
Currently, I am thinking through some life stuff and asking God what He holds for me/us in the future.  For some time I have been aware that I have not yet answered the next question - number 4 in the list on my blogpost of 30th December last year  - 

'Which relationships, personal and professional, will you focus on improving?' 

There are some reasons for not answering this fully yet which I will write about another day but I was prompted to start thinking about the question again by seeing this quote today...

...and then by watching NCIS this evening.
I still don't fully know the answer to the question but I know I have some parameters and some ideas forming.

It won't fully depend on where we are based. I have some treasured people in my life who live or will be living outside our city but who will always be important to me, who spur me on, energise and inspire me, and who I love to be around.   

I definitely want to count people in those relationships that have the same heart for life as I do; who want me to adventure along with them - whether in life or faith; who are committed to fullness in relationship, willing to encourage in easy times and who will not shy away from the hard stuff in tough times; laugh and cry with me and who want to change the world not only right where we are but in other ways.

Not only do I want to be following people who are where I want to be but I also want to BE that person that others want to follow.

On a spiritual note, Georgian Banov wrote this inspiring article with the comment that 'Joseph was not affected by the oppressive spiritual atmospheres around him...he was too busy changing them!'

Let's go change!