Jolly Blogger

I was also reading another blog yesterday, in one of my this-doesn't-look-productive-but-it-may-be moments. It's entitled the Jolly Blogger and it definitely spoke to me.

A the top of the site is this quote:
Grace substitutes a full, childlike, and delighted acceptance of our Need, a joy in total dependence. We become "Jolly Beggars." - C.S. Lewis
You know it will be good when it begins with Lewis.

I don't know if it was what started the blog, but this guy David has been writing about having been diagnosed with cancer and the top post for yesterday day was about how he was supposed to find joy in that, despite not knowing what would happen. His hope was in healing but he's all to aware that that may not be God's plan in this.

And I don't want to sound insensitive to the gravity of his situation, I know that where I am at (3o hours till an essay is due in) is nothing in comparison, but the idea of the hope we have in God not necessarily meaning what we want it to mean yet still keeping joy in that was significant. This whole time I have not been about the joy at all. Honesty, yes. Remain hopeful and even accepting of apparent failure, partially. Joy... never even occurred to me. Yet here is a man facing death who talks about finding the greatest joy in the midst of the greatest suffering. I love joy, get it out all the time when I'm excited or glad, but this steps it up a gear.

It is also totally obvious when you remember the grace that Lewis mentions first and foremost. The grace that dawned on me yesterday. The grace that is so huge and amazing it is more than enough to keep joy in the most dire situations, nay so fantastic and delightful that joy couldn't escape if it tried. If we let it in that is.

So on my last day of this relatively small trial I am going to try and keep the joy as my top priority. That is, actually, I am up for keeping the joy and will now rely on God to bring it about. Not hard so far: waking to a fresh blanket of snow(!) and homemade pancakes with maple syrup(!!) are all good motivators... but then, so is Grace.

Passing Thoughts

People go on about secret sin. Does that mean if it's not secret it's OK? I feel like sometimes all we have to do to make it OK is confess it but people, it's still there! Some of my sin is worse when it's not secret 'cause it's obvious. Like, not being gracious. Stay between me and God: sort it out and say sorry; show/tell other people: cruel, bitchy and potentially astray leading. Plus, isn't telling people sometimes a bit like bragging? "Oh I feel so bad, I went out last night and pull these three amazing birds and now they all keep ringing me and I don't know how to tell them I'm not interested and I don't go out with non-Christians." Lol, no I don't know that person - but don't you want to judge them? Ah ha! Sin. Shit, I led you astray...

Also, I'm annoyed that the Christmas message has already gotten old on me. I've only been to my third carol service of the season and I am already done with it. How do you long timers last? I can see what C.S.Lewis meant when he talked about time being one of the greatest weapons of the enemy. When I got back to England I was sort of told by someone that I would calm down and reality would kick in. It was my biggest fear and my reaction was a total denial and refusal. Now what? Angel, mother, stable, baby, angels, shepherds, star, kings, escape. Ta da!

Don't be like me. Do pray for me (seriously if you're gonna then do it before Tuesday: I have an exam).

Sorry to be a grumpy! N'night x

Thinkin 'bout Angels

I was at a uni carol service on Friday and it was the first time this season that I've really heard the Christmas message. I went to another service at Bath Abbey last week which was a rather fabulous setting but I don't think there was much direct bible storyage... this one went through the birth, the shepherds and the wisemen - each with a bit of a "thought" afterward about how you would actually interpret this humanly. That is: teenage mum in a dark, dirty, smelly stable; shepherds all rough and scary and untrustworthy; the wisemen being, I don't remember but not a Christmas card stereotype. Two things that really came to mind:
1) Carols are not written in a good key. Bearing in mind the church wants to try and get people in at Christmas with the lure of a good singsong I really think they should drop them all by about a third.
2) I was thinkin about how Christmas looked from Heaven. Like, from the angels perspective. In particular this line I love that goes: "Heaven sings Hallelujah, Hallelujah the earth replies."
You look at the story of the shepherds too, with the whole host of angels telling the good news, and it makes you wonder what it was like up there that day.

I don't think about Heaven that much. I will one day but I've got enough to be getting on with for now, plus there's the fact that we can't really know what it will be like. It is kinda cool to sometimes sit and think about all the crazy shit there still is to come though... One thing is for sure, "when like stars His children crowned, all in white shall wait around" doesn't really say it. Hanging around waiting for something to happen whilst wearing a white dress? I don't think so.

What were the angels doing that day though? The real tangible angels that DO exist and are out there serving God on this very earth. Something along the lines of being SO excited that Jesus had come that they got to the point where they couldn't wait anymore, they had to tell someone, they had to sing about it! They had to pop down to earth find the first people they could that would respond (people that really needed this great glad tiding nonetheless) and shout for joy about how amazing it was. A human interpretation on the one hand looking at the dark and difficult side of the Christmas message, the way it was worldlyly so uncomfortable; an angelic interpretation on the other about how incredible and historic and totally indescribably amazing it is that THE SON OF GOD HIMSELF WHO IS ALSO GOD has come in human form to this earth to bring light and hope to all of mankind!!

They were making a cacophony (justifiably I do believe) and they weren't just about then. Everywhere they are there, rejoicing at our reconciliation, witnessing and cheering us on, protecting and delivering us. Not to mention the fighting of our spiritual battles, bringing messages from God, transporting people on their wings(!), worshipping alongside us... Really and truly actually there!

I really enjoyed reading 'The Screwtape Letters' when I was a bit nearer the start of this journey. I confess I didn't actually finish it as I gave it back to Miss Spitfire before I left and never got round to getting another copy, but I love how it brings the spiritual into the real world and makes you think about what is going one around us that we can't see. Jennifer Rees Larcombe has written a spectacular book which does something quite similar from an angel's perspective. It's title is 'An Angel Called Mervin'. I heard a section read out at my sister's church a while back and really wanted to get it - I found out C had a copy and she brought it round this week... I just started reading the prologue when I had to stop to write! I will totally transcribe the whole piece when I find it, it is that good, but for now this is something from the preface:
"I believe spiritual warfare is all about holy angels fighting fallen angels, but it is human faith which decides which side wins in each skirmish"

Yet again: prayer. Prayer is a powerful weapon. DO IT.

Don't Let The Man Get You Down

Now, I know that the issue I am about to address isn't specifically about men being in the wrong. Nor is it always about women being attacked (though I think most would agree they they bear the brunt of it). But "The Man" doesn't necessarily mean people with willies, just a mechanism that is controlling The World, so the title stays.

I have talked about this several times before. Like here and there. But this is going to be a bit of a remix so don't run off, please!

I am becoming ever increasingly passionate about issues pertaining to women stuck in the world, being forced into an unobtainable mold with superficial expectations. There is SO MUCH more to humanity than that and it is SO not what God says it is about. Sure attraction comes into relationships and God created beauty and loves it, I know that, but having seen what the world is saying and how it is controlling, nay destroying lives, I think it is time we stopped. "We" as a race would be incredible. "We" as a faith group - can we settle for less?

Eating disorders are KILLING people in the minority, taking over and disrupting lives in a much larger proportion not to mention other kinds of disorders (tanorexia for example, addiction to plastic surgery...) and consumerism gets US ALL. (Watch this - it's a cool film and yet of course it is still both advertising and about beauty products!)

Every time we acknowledge a "flaw" and stress over it we are guilty of:
a) the dismissal of the person God made us to be, and
b) being distracted from what is actually important.

There are many things tied in here, enough to write a book about (watch this space...!) and definitely you can say to me that it is a fine line to balance keeping healthy with not caring at all; that self control comes into it; that God wants us to be the best we can be. I know and I may or may not address these things and others at some later time [for sure you can still please tell me what you think about them, I'm very much working this out as I go]. However, today I just want to say that it is time those of us in the church (as C.S. Lewis describes it: a terrible army across time and space) at the very least get out of that mind set.

We are allowing consumerism to take over and I have met very few people, and certainly am not one myself, that are totally above the worldly attitudes of attraction. There is also another debate in here as to how much preferences (still ideally kept internalised in my view) are acceptable given that, while we all seem to "fancy" different things, if our ideas come directly from our exposure to the world's view of what is and isn't "beautiful" maybe we just need put some of those aside. I don't know, sometimes I really don't know.

What I do know is that it is hard to be a "normal" person who is aware of all the judgment that flies around, that if it wasn't for Jesus' love for me I wouldn't be able to ignore it so well and that even so it can still be a struggle some days.

We need to rise above it. Christians and non- alike. We need to stop whoever baddie we believe in, be it "The Man" or "The Devil", from winning this battle and inserting insecurity and judgment into our hearts. We need to break out of the trap that tells us to dedicate time and money to insignificant nay unhelpful things. We need to stop harbouring ideas that alienate people and make them not love themselves as they should. As God does. I need to change my set of standards entirely and rethink what it is that God would say when he saw me walk into a room. What image He wants me reflect back in a mirror, not what other people want and not what I want.

It is a challenge. I don't know how to start really... Any thoughts? Do I set a budget on my moisturiser or just stop using it altogether?! First off I need to stop accepting the things I see, the things I hear, the things I think, the things I say... as, well, acceptable. The one thing I do know is that being in the place of constantly trying to live up to these expectations sucks really really hard and I am SO glad to not be there anymore.

One or two people said they liked it when I wrote poems so here's one I made earlier. You can stop reading now if you don't like it so much, I won't mind. I won't know! It's an early draft and I'm not sure about how the punctuation captures the lilt so you may have to use a bit of imagination...

Look at me
Look at me straight
In my eyes my ass, don’t hesitate to tell me what you think

My face my teeth my clothes, what lies beneath
It’s all fair game.
I’ll be ashamed or feel a queen
Or somewhere in between,
Depending on your dreams

View my soul
Then judge the whole package as it were
Do I ring your bell
or deviate from the curve?
Normal, a cycle on the machine?
Or a sign that all is well with me.
What parameters are these?
Indeed! What the hell

Look at me straight
Tell me I’m ok
With a word a look a smile a touch
I need to know that I’m enough
Don’t hesitate
All of me, right here, right now
On a plate

For the joys and for the sorrows
In sickness and health
Till death do us part, or the fire wanes in your heart
Is it death already?
Or was that here from the start.

More’s the pity
If only I’d been pretty.

Bows Are Back in Fashion

I’m publishing this post and last Thurs at the same time.  That is because, lovely though it is, my little nest does not have much web action and I only have uni-based semi-reliable connections.  Today I am coming to you from chez-ma-soeur though I actually wrote it last night.  Sneaky eh?

So, while I cannot give you a run down on what church was like (as technically I have not been yet) I can give a bit of a low down on Bristol this week.

Well, it has rained a lot.  An old friend from Woodies came to stay on Friday and that was great – I think she just came down to see if it was really true.  Wonderful opportunity to connect with UK based Christians and do some pretty damn great bible study.

But it has rained a lot.  Went to see Mamma Mia! for the second time with my dear sister this evening (Sat) which is amazing and I can’t decide if I prefer Colin or Pierce (spelling?) in spandex grooving out to Waterloo.  I also enjoyed spending time with someone that I know is going to be an integral part in this next step of my journey.

It rained on the way back too.

Turns out, rain is a pretty standard part of life.  And it is indeed lifegiving – we would be screwed without it.  Sometimes, however, you can’t help but wish that there was a little less rain and a little more sparkly sunshineness.  Specially in this hilly region of the West Country.

And so comes the analogy…

Rain, like pain, is a part of life.  The sermon on the last day I was in Geneva was about accepting suffering and still finding joy.  What really stuck out was the idea that we spend so long trying to avoid sufferance that we think it is a bad thing.  But it is so clear that in suffering we come closer to God as we prove our faith (see bible to back up this statement) and for this reason should rejoice in it.  It is through the fire that we are refined.

I am a little bit worried that God is preparing me to suffer.  You know, when you hear a message a few times to the point that it becomes blogworthy?  I watched on Friday night the movie, correction: film, Shadowlands.  Story of C.S. Lewis.  It was really good, I thought.  The final fade out comment that he makes was that the pain is part of the joy; that you need to experience the two together.  Today in Hebrews, having just been absentmindedly sing “O-B-E-Y obey your Heavenly Dad…” (kids song from EBCG), we read the bit - here - that talks about Jesus learning obedience through suffering meaning, not that Jesus was disobedient before then, but that His obedience was not proven until He did it despite what He had to bear.

I must admit, it is a little bit unnerving.  I haven't exactly had to prove my obedience or test my faith. As yet.

But, one of my more fabulous favourite things of nature is the rainbow.  This is because it depicts to me in theory what it means in practice.  When I first visited Geneva, before I had even been offered the job, God showed me a rainbow in the jet and, though I was not a Christian and could not accept the symbolic significance of God’s promises, I could see clearly the idea that through the storm clouds shines a light and gives something beautiful.

[This isn't the same rainbow of that day in June 2007 (the big football is kinda a giveaway) but it is in the same place.]

And that, my friend, is exactly what the promises of God are about.  We have the dark clouds of pain and suffering, the light of God shining through (post tenebras…) and then the glory of His fulfilled promises hangs over our lives. 

So while it has rained a lot, and there are whisperings of suffering when it really does not feel like it and I really do not feel like it, I am glad that in all this Bristol has been going through a season of rainbows.

'Cause what with all the rain I have spotted a few this week... here is one that I snapped from my bedroom window t'other day:

[That's my communal garden out there... check out the washing line! Cute much?]

So yeah.  Have some good solid biblical stuff to finish off with as far as suffering and growth goes.  Check it out if you don't know what I mean: Romans 5:3-5.

She was looking kinda dumb with her finger and her thumb in the shape of an "L" on her forehead

I don't like how fabulously enthusiastic my blog has gotten. For goodness sake, I must be coming across as a mental soft head going on about Jesus like all my problems are solved and the world is made of sunshine and flowers. Well, it's not true and I can't deceive you anymore. Even Kat(i)e gets pissed off and today I want to tell you about that.

The first annoying thing is that I had a 'fabulous' thought on the bus about this blog and I forgot it. I can remember that it was definitely AMAZING but can I recall what it was? No.

The second annoying thing is that I don't have the right to be annoyed. I had a great day, saw and spoke to loads of lovely friends, went to the ILO for lunch(!), had wonderful conversations all about the future and hope and faith and empowerment and all sorts of stuff; work was even cool and I felt like I was almost making a difference. On top of that this past week rocked out and I had lots of encouragement and drive and passion and vision and what not. Great stuff. Then, suddenly, no.

I suppose sometimes it just gets too much. When God is great but He is not in your face it is easy to focus on the world and let Him get blurry in the background. That doesn't have to take very long, we're not talking years or weeks or days, I am vulnerable enough that even after a couple of hours of despondence or laziness; a stupid rom com (they are definitely emotional pornography); a song on the radio or a bad Facebook moment, I am all about humanity and it's failed promises. It's so easy for stuff like that to get you down and make you feel worth less than you are with a big fat "L" plastered across your face. Or angry with a big fat fist plastered across someone else's. Or possibly a combo of the both.

Oh happy day, I remembered! Let's reference it back to Screwtape shall we. Natural undulations leave us going up and down (I like to see it as having a sinusoidal spirit) making it feel sometimes like things have gone bad when really it is just the seasons of life. In this knowledge however, the downs do not have the power to keep us from the wonderful state that is a relationship with God - who by the way is always true to his promises. Do not despair, recall Ecclesiastes and remember too that one day perfect we will be.

[I am also annoyed by how sickly sweet this entry has gone and gotten when all I wanted was to moan :-S]

Coincidence?

I had a really cool experience last weekend, while my friend Gemma was visiting. Rather fabulous in fact and contrary to the question mark in the title I am pretty sure this was not just a Coincidence.

It was on the train returning from the beer festival in Martigny (pronounced Martini to all who went) and we were 5 spread out across two 4 seat booths in the carriage. Hence, when the train stopped at one station and a few more passengers got on we ended up with two attractive and lovely (yes I mean it, not just being English!) ladies sitting in the midst of us. A tall red head and a short and curly brunette. They were lots of fun and we had a good laugh at the expense of the drunken meandering man who was rather keen on self promotion; apparently his appearance is quite a regular experience. I liked them 'cause when I offered cake they accepted - and why wouldn't you? It was spiced loaf. (I later found that one of them had been craving ginger earlier! Coincidence?) Anyway, they got off at Coppet I think and we did not even swap names. Just one of those things: we mused that it was funny you could meet such cool people and never see them again.

The next day Gemma and I went to church, had a drink by the river (that is a whole other experience to be told anon) and then walked to Parc des Bastions to take in the chess and the reforms and what not. Milling about taking photos we hear a shriek and running and a short feisty brunette is making tracks to embrace us, followed by an elegant ginger who was no less forward.

It really was quite remarkable and I can't help smiling now as I remember how I met these two wonderful women, both of whom have since become real people in my life that I text and Facebook (ok, that's not real) and meet up with and everything.

We spent the rest of the afternoon drinking wine and eating biscuits and cashew nuts (more than paying back a squishy piece of cake!) with them and their friends, while we pretended to play chess then actually did play uno. It was lovely and one of the most random experiences I have ever had.

Yet, I don't think it was random, not really. For one, they were both Christians (I'm not saying that if they were not Christians it would have been less cool just that it is something we have ended up sharing together quite a lot and, well also to me it means God is in control.) and one in particular was looking for a church to attend in Geneva. She already came to YAGs last night and they are both coming to EBCG next Sunday (they tried to come last week for the baptism but only found the Lutheran Church - no full immersions there!). We also have loads of other stuff in common and just a right laugh together so it is looking to be some pretty sweet friendships. Now, how often do Strangers On A Train actually end up like that? (I just hope they don't blackmail me into committing murder, else I rather think my point may be lost.)

So that got me thinking. Yesterday off the cuff I called something, which admittedly was less significant, a coincidence just 'cause the word came out naturally. I'm not sure I liked it.

In 'The Screwtape Letters' C.S.Lewis suggests the idea that words can be introduced by Satan into everyday vocabulary to help undermine God and what he stands for. Now, please don't think that what I have to say is not relevant in a secular context (if anything it is equally irrelevant to all!). One can still think that common vocabulary undermines how we view the world without attaching it to spiritual beliefs.

I just worry that by using "Coincidence" as default we are basically belittling every good thing that happens to us as a mere act of chance. When we wonder if something is a direct act of God's involvement (or say fate, the universe, or whatever other higher power you may subscribe to) we always seem to stop and go "Well, it may just be a coincidence". Yet you never hear people say "Don't get carried away with thinking it's a coincidence without considering the possibility of miraculous or purposeful intervention" do you.

It is a word that not only attaches no meaning whatsoever but actually removes the significance an extraordinary event may naturally suggest.

I see nothing wrong with questioning God but sometimes, given that I believe He is capable of all things and on top of that wants to give good gift to His children, perhaps just perhaps I should question the mundane at least as much as the miraculous.

Everything is meaningless...

Well, I just spent an amazing weekend doing loads of cool stuff in Geneva. Classic tourist trips like the UN tour and Red Cross museum coupled with enchanting random days full of new friends and strange experiences. What did I say at every turn? "I'm going to blog about this". And what am I now going to write about? Coffee shops and hair dressers...

Today I had a music lesson. It was not as progressive as I would have liked: spent most of the time gossiping and having a hoarse throat (not least after the as yet undescribed weekend) but it was quite fun. From here I decided to grab a Starbucks as I had a good book in my bag and an hour to kill before my colour appointment. This was a bit of a treat as I have been abstaining for a long time; partly due to general busyness couple with a *slight* need for detox... So I went for one of my two favourites: hazelnut mocha with non-fat milk and whipped cream (the non-fat justifies the whip). I got it venti (with a maple scone) and it came out grande so I sent it back. There is a big difference and I had been looking forward to this for ages so saw nowt wrong with getting from a service what one has asked, particularly when I put them under no pressure and did it with a smile. It was not my mistake... but sending it back sure was - there was no hazelnut syrup next time which I was partially devastated by and the cup was not even close to acceptably full. The look that returned my smile said "I have the power to destroy this small pleasure and I have just done it". Still, I tell myself that there is more to life than coffee and to give her the satisfaction of making me miserable was not where it was at. I read I eat I buy shoes (lovely brown leather 'thongs' to be precise). A bit concerning my card didn't work but hey, I had cash and I coped for over a week last-time without even that.

Hair time. Finally. I had REALLY been looking forward to/in need of this one. Mirrors of late have not been my friends. Les racines were showing big time and as I am currently growing it longer I decided that it was time to steer away from porn star blonde and into a more sophisticated 5-star blend.

Foolish to have expectations on arrival: never before Switzerland have I met more opinionated hair dressers. It may have something to do with the fact I don't speak great French but whenever I suggest one thing (using images are good for this) they suggest the opposite. Like the tousled choppy look that turned into a short bouncy bob or, on this occasion, the strawberry blond/dark red low lights that would look better in... purple.

Apparently my colouring does not suit rouge. What the hell does my colouring suit then?? Helloo... Ging-a. I was already unconvinced by the platinum and I now wonder at the mix of platinum, violet and dark brown that has blended together in a very fashionable, Solomon would be envious (if he weren't so damn Godly), silvery-grey.

Still. I read my book, I wait patiently and I think about a home dye job. My hairdresser was nice and I got to practise my French. Could have been worse I tell myself. Then I get to work, sit around for hours watching a kid draw a picture he is copying off the internet and helping him with bad French grammar (my specialty). All the time getting quite into the collection of letters I am reading to drown the boredom, if not more. I am really late there and had to go straight to French, both making the mistake of not telling my teacher I wouldn't be there till 8pm and not getting the chance for dinner either.

All told, sounds a bit like all the things I should have enjoyed were a little bit sour. But you know what, it was a ruddy bloody lovely day. 'Cause all the important things were great! Robyn turns up in Geneva and though it was stupidly early and she was a bit smelly (jokes! Not at all :-D) it was the best start ever. I get a text from a new friend who is really cool and totally exciting to meet up with again. I had a wonderful time with my French teacher despite the aforementioned circumstance (because that is all it was) and was reminded of the value and blessing that is our friendship. I even had the chance to keep an otherwise boreder (English grammar ain't so hot either!) 13 year old boy from watching cartoons and rotting his mind. Really, with all this in play, who cares about hair and coffee and money and supposed freedom from work?

And it did help that the book I was reading all day long was The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis (there may well be a review to come...) which just kept reminding me fabulously of how unimportant the trivial niggles are in the grand scheme of things, yet how much they can get in the way of what is real and relevant. Hence I ended up feeling particularly free from all that shite as it ridiculed what value we can give to such things; showing what it can lead to yet how we really don't need to be subject to it at all! I loved the moment when a French woman on the bus said to me "un bon livre" and we shared a common appreciation and emancipation.

For sure I fell into about a million traps of anger, resentment, vanity, gluttony, superiority, judgement, selfishness, indifference, slothfulness and more. But who doesn't? The fact is, I am going to go to bed in a minute (with my Canadian hot water bottle) knowing that all that crap can't come with me and palpably sticking up my fingers to all the nasty works of the world that tried to bring me down today. Careful mind, trying to keep my humility intact... Damn it, there it goes.

Eh bien. Tomorrow is another day... :-)

P.S. Starting to really love the new colour and am interested to find out how silver foxes are treated in Geneva versus brassy blondes...