Amazing Grace

I was thinking yesterday, in one of my motivational moments, some stuff which I was refusing to blog about 'cause I needed to just start applying it... but I am less motivated to work right now so maybe writing it out will rekindle the passion!

I've been getting myself all churned up about if I am messing up God's plan. Like, He has got a really cool escape route mapped out so that I can miraculously be alright in this situation, meet my deadline and get the grade... but I am being an idiot and sitting around waiting for it to happen instead of just writing.

Now, granted some people probably think I am right about that and actually I should just get on with my essay instead of blogging but, even though I doubt it will make a difference to their opinion, I want to state that I genuinely struggle with concentration A LOT. I'm in the middle of being diagnosed with ADHD but the referral is weeks away (I do love the NHS) with all methods other than medication taking far too long to effect change before Friday. A friend asked me if I thought I might be using it as an excuse but actually I really just see it more as an explanation for how my life has always been...

We can talk more about all that some other time. It's been a bit of a journey for me and something I haven't shared partly 'cause of the stigma and this being the internet, partly the not actually having an answer yet. It gives a girl a lot to think about, studying being the least important in comparison to things like social interaction, relationships, identity, healing(?). But I'll leave those stuffs for another time, today I just wanted to vindicate my struggles a little and lay it out on a plate.

So yeah. I don't really know what I can actually do, but I look at a page/screen and panic. I love to write and I have all these ideas and when it is a short piece I can eventually organise it and hone it and make it flow... I know exactly what I want to say and within limitations I can do that. But 5,000 words with a lot of technical details and referencing is a whole other ball game and my perfectionism doesn't know where to begin. Yet surely in this I am messing up every chance that God has to rescue me? I have to do *something*.

Yet again, duh, I am prompted to recall that GOD IS SOVEREIGN. He doesn't actually need me to do anything. In fact, HE LIKES IT WHEN I AM WEAK SO HE CAN SHOW ME HE'S STRONG. How am I supposed to remember my dependency if I am always capable? How am I supposed to get that He loves me if He never has the chance to show me?

Yet again I was being legalistic, thinking I have to reach some kind of threshold of effort before He meets me halfway. If anything of this world depended on what we humans did, well... we kinda see what that looks like don't we? Life is impossible for a reason. Failure imminent without intervention, that we may recognise intervention for what it is and receive it gladly in the shape of True Love.

It takes the flavour out of grace for me to think that what I do matters at all. God reached out to man and made a way (Jesus) and I tell myself that He can only see His plans come through if I work for it? Crazy fool.

So I'm in the library, giving what I can but not giving a damn if what I have isn't enough. It isn't. I read another person's blog this morning. Don't do that much but this guy seems good and I like the sound of his ideals (I say that vaguely 'cause I only know them vaguely!). The article linked above really spoke to me and in case you don't feel like reading someone else on your coffee break I'll sum up the relevant part.

It is looking at the story of David and Goliath and how so many people interpret it: little weak person overcomes some big, scary, technically impossible to beat, "Giant" in their life. Miraculous empowerment of man. He then (and this is the bit that made me go "Oh yeah, duh!") instead describes it thus:
We are little Israelites standing round shitting ourselves with the Philestines surrounding us, doomed. Then a seemingly insignificant and weak nobody steps out from the midst of us and saves us from an impossible Giant so that we can surge forward with a shout, enemy defeated! Miraculous empowerment for man. The analogy here is, of course, Jesus.

How naïve, nay arrogant, to think that we are David when really Jesus is? David didn't need the army of scared and foolish soldiers behind him, he did if for the army so that they would not die.


All that said, an essay is not eternal life and just 'cause I am guaranteed of the second does not mean that the first will come to pass. I cannot claim that in hope I know the full extent of the mind of God and I must remember that my certainty of grace is in the eternal sense and that here and now, finitely, we cannot comprehend the full applications of infinity. That is to say, grace acted out on earth doesn't always look like a gift as we know it (also coming in the shape of lessons, refinement, rebuke etc) and I must be wary that this coursework does not become a "what have you done for me lately" scenario with my idea of grace being pined onto something so subjective.

God likes blessing me and wants the best for me, I can hope assuredly for that... and just ask really nicely that academic success is the way He chooses to administer it!

P.S. I'm not very good at acknowledging grace, I didn't even have a tag for it (only for 'Grace Killers'). I've been too tied up receiving it and applying it to my life to stop and go "Wow" so I reckon this is a lesson that I am well in need of. It's pretty Amazing, isn't it?!

To Eat or not To Eat, that is the question...

Fasting: this is really good to do. I have had amazing success in fasting for the purpose of seeing breakthrough in prayer. I have had amazing connections with God and hearing His still small voice. I have also had absolutely awful experiences, some when my attitude has been wrong, some when it has been right and I don't know why.

I was fasting through Advent and treating it like a Lent period for me. I thought it was a really good idea. Thing is I am trying to pray for different people every day like and really want good cheer and hope to be spread through this season and be for life, not just for Christmas. So my advent calender is a list of 24 different people and I decided to do a fast until Christmas eve.

I especially thought it was a good idea given that Christmas is a season for lack of self-control and I notoriously have this (as I have shared before) and want to work on it in all areas of my life. So I figured showing discipline in eating is a good way to go about it and would bring me closer to God in this season and deal with something that sometimes gets in the way.

How is fasting for me? Some people say it is about being hungry so they remember to pray. I get that, I do it, but it isn't the main thing. I think the best way I understood fasting was that by not giving in to you fleshly demands of hunger you can somehow get out of this physical mindset and be in a place that can get closer to God by tapping into your spiritual side more. I know that's vague and feel free to correct or expand or whatever...

So anyway, when a friend was doing a lunch fast on the 1st December it just felt right to do it too. Then to carry it on till the 24th... Right?

The thing I hate about humanity is fickleness. How can we be so sure of what we want or what we think we have to do one minute and then the next be completely confused by how wrong it suddenly seems. I get so much comfort out of knowing that at least God gets me 'cause so much of the time I really don't!

First day it was great. Second day I was like, OK, there is a difference between enduring hunger and being too weak to concentrate on my studies. Plus I was not eating day time but getting to the evening and being really really hungry so having big dinners; and also thinking "I need energy for the day so I'll have a big breakfast". Which ended up looking like it had the potential to become a binge-starve-binge sandwich (or not!) and defo not what it was all about. I have a tendency to do things to extremes but I knew this was not good so I decided on day 3 that, though it had been really successful it was not prolong-able, and I would have a fast involving disciplined regular meals and being really strict with myself. Lol, you'll love this, I told my friend in an email:

"I am now doing a 'no snacking or seconds or unneccesarily eating etc' fast as it was starting to feel a bit legalistic."

Now, am I right or am I right that this statement epitomises legalism?!

No snacks, seconds, cake, treats, fun... friends, pleasures, comfort, central heating, nice clothes... hell I should just go live in a cave and pray.

That drove me mad. Suddenly I wasn't even sure when I was allowed to eat. I didn't know if my hunger was hunger or if it was seeking comfort or gratuitous pleasure in food. It felt like I was damned if I do and damned if I don't. I didn't think about it much till after I got my presentation finished on the 4th day [Thank God so much I got that done - it was pushed to the far edge of available time but my ability to eventually concentrate was nothing short of miraculous and it feels like God is growing my faith in such things by leaving me wholly dependent on Him to help me.] but then, suddenly, I was like "What now?". Can I have half an hour of peace, maybe a nice lunch, before I get into the discipline? Am I allowed a biscuit with my tea if I'm still hungry or is it only dry bread? Argggggghhhh! I was tired, I was stressed, nothing was right because legalism vs consumerism is not a pretty fight and so I went to bed till my sister came round after work. Granted I needed it after an early start and 5 hours straight of Philosophy of Maths (!) but going to sleep to avoid dilemmas is probably not what Jesus what have done.

So where am I now? Apart from extremely grateful that C could step up and be wise and supportive and helpful when I needed it? Living each day in God and not forcing a thing I suppose. Remembering that He said really clearly there is no condemnation. I suppose my rule (which is something I've heard and heard and heard and not absorbed then suddenly it just became real to me) for how to live an "extreme" (nay any) spiritual life is:

Only do what I want to do and learn to love God more so that my desires reflect His heart. Then it should all be easy.

Easy is as easy does. Anything's easy if He is our strength (some verses in Isaiah, 2 Corinthians, Matthew). I can't even have a cup of tea without.

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.

Allelujah!

We have a break through.

I cannot accept any credit for this - Caro dealt with the situation while I sat and blogged about it. I like to see myself as the impartial observer... kinda like a war photographer.

So thank you Caro for all your help. Muchos gracias! :-D

I would like to add that the whole process was incredibly clean and ladylike, as becomes a household of three clean livin' ladies.

Hey. Makes you re-evaluate don't it. When the toilet flushes, what can I really complain about?

Amazing Hostel

When that is the name of the place you are staying, and said residence is costing 16 Euros for 2 nights, you may be astute enough to not have high expectations. You would be wrong, this is by far THE most wonderful place I have ever lived and am comparing with my own home, that of my parents and all 5 star Swiss chalet hotels in Gstaad (check me out!).

I was not planning on blogging this evening. At the very least I may have made a note in my journal. I am however so totally impressed with ALL Hungarian folk that I simply had to share the smile with you all.

I arrived well after 930 (local time) after a delay and what not. The airport tourist office advised me to get a 22 Euro shuttle to my hostel but given that I was only going to be here till Tuesday morning (and it was overpriced) I decided I simply had to do it properly. Train, tram and wondering the streets...

My phone battery was dead along with the hostel address so I had to find someone to help me briefly charge it, though only long enough to get the street name. No matter, I was all about being alone and independent in the streets of Budapest. This, I have decided, is the best way to be. There is nothing more exciting than the moment you step into a new place without a clue what you are going to do next, no money and no language skills...

Within minutes a lady on the train was helping me identify my stop. She taught me how to say thank you, I still can't do it but atleast I am trying and I wrote it down so I could practise. At the trolley bus a girl came and asked me if I was ok after she witnessed me endlessly pouring change into the ticket machine (running to the shops halfway through to get more) and stamping my feet in mock frustration. I ended up paying more than the price of a ticket but with nothing to prove as such. All was well though, she assured me they would not check and it was true. In the time I was waiting for my tram to turn up (not including the two that had passed while I faffed about) another lady asked me if I needed help. Atlteast, I think she did - She didn't speak English so I wasn't sure what was going on but there was lots of smiling and pointing at my map which then induced the fourth one so far to offer me assistance. Hence, I like Hungarians. I am also going to firmly believe that it is not just 'cause I look perpetually gormless.

Anyway, mum. I have arrived safe and sound at my AMAZING hostel and am all clean from the best shower I've had in a long time (this could be rose tinted from the fact I was really dirty). It's tucked away inside a really big half derelict old building which even at night is amazing and I think I may cry when I see it in the morning. The staff and resident residents are very friendly and the first conversation they were having was about where in Switzerland the Euro was being held - I think I may know that one (aside: how glad am I not to be there this week...).

I wasn't really hungry (I'd bought a wierd savoury croissant to break a note. I think it may have had ham in which may or may not have been cooked) but one of the residents offered me a glass of wine (gladly recieved) and a a whole pizza (politely refused and then forced upon me until I ate a slice and now feel kinda sick). He is sweet but I not totally convinced by sincerity of friendliness. Maybe wearing a ring on my wedding finger is not enough... Oh well, I turned down the offer (thrice and counting) of him going out to buy more wine and think perhaps if I continue to refuse the dinner invite I will be OK! Arggh, getting into scrapes before I even start. It is ok to lie in this situation isn't it (insert question mark here). I mean, I try to just say no but sometimes I don't think it qualifies as an answer.

Well, I feel totally blessed and protected right now so I sure it will be fine. Roll on walking tours and Hungarian cuisine (what do they eat here anyway QQ).

Laters!

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...