Bye bye Baby, Baby bye bye

We like brit blondes and we cannot lie
You other brothers can’t deny
When a girl walks in in red white blue
And a platinum haircut too

We are charmed, wanna offer her tea
And fall down on bended knee
To praise and then start singing
“You’ve lost that lovin’ feeling”

Oh Lady, will you come and teach us
How to speak thus?
How could anyone refuse?
When she sounds like Julie Andrews

Ooh, Union-jack-clad-lass
If we could have your class
Well wouldn’t it be loverly
We’d dance (brit pronounc.) and say it properly

We’ve heard her question
To hell with discretion
She’s loud and smart
Got goin’ with a lot of heart

We’re tired of other girls
Sayin’ it’s all about looks and pearls
Take the average yagster and ask what he’d pick
She gotta have much wit

So, fellas! (Yeah!) Fellas! (Yeah!)
Has our Katie got the brit? (Hell yeah!)
Tell her to share it! (Share it!) Share it! (Share it!)
Give us somma your brit!

Baby got brit!

Today I share with you the lyrics that inspired the name Baby Got Brit. They were written for me by my darling friend, and most dedicated follower, Miss Spitfire, as a gift for my 22nd birthday almost a year ago. I have been waiting for an appropriate time to make this tribute but today I can wait no longer - for this is the last post I will make on BGB.

When I took a break and started to fast "Intermacy" I knew that over lent I would have to decide on the future nature of my blogging. I loved to blog, to share, to talk about myself (who doesn't?) and make insightful comments on life and what not. However, there was a line of divulgence that I had crossed unawares and, better late than never, I resolved to reset that line. What I didn't realise was that over lent God was going to show me so many things about myself that I would end up deciding on a lot more than my blog's future nature.

So, on one last crazy blow out of sharing, I will tell you a little bit of what He did in me.

Oh the hilarity of the analogy that I will use! It took me by surprise too but God, in true keeping with how well He knows me, gave me the most fabulous of metaphors that I may treasure and delight it when putting my old self to death becomes just a little too tough. For that is, in effect, what is going on here. This milestone I am accepting on a whole new level exactly what it means to sacrifice even the most fundamental characteristics of Who I Am, in order that I rest upon the secure foundation of Jesus. So many things in me testify to insecurity and, try as I might, that does not change with self-defense or justification... be it the language I use, the things that I own (or obsessively collect!), the way I share my Romans 7 nature in an attempt to rid myself of shame...

At the risk of being too open let's move on and see what it is that spoke to me about this.

Jade Goody.

Oh yes! I too was surprised when I eventually worked it out but it makes such sense.

So who was this star of British reality TV? A loud, bolshy, fun loving, foolish, needy, attention seeking, proud, loving, funny, ridiculous, extreme, verbose (or gobby!), messy, sinful, lovable, broken, indiscrete, unrefined, annoying, genuine, hopeful, hard working, "true-to-herself" girl. All these things and more were said about her at her funeral last weekend. She remains an icon of Great Britishness and, though often slated in the papers and renown for making a spectacle of herself, many people had soft hearts for her and her honesty. Especially towards the end as she battled with cervical cancer and eventually died on the 22nd March.

I once wrote about changing yourself for other people. I remember the gist, though it feels like a long time ago. I think that Jade held strongly to some of the things I was questioning then to do with compromising for other people vs being assured in your own identity. After facing a lot of criticism from very unloving sources I suppose it becomes easy to take ones own standard as the most important and strongly discount the opinions of anyone that don't very very clearly demonstrate love. But the thing is, despite all the things that I latch on to in myself, it is not me that I am accountable to. I can be as immutable in my attitude as I like but until my attitude is totally in line with His then I have not reached my goal... and to progress on a journey we must move.

The story of Jade and I is this:

The whole world knew she was dying, they'd found out months ago and it's been constantly covered by the media ever since. Yet I had somehow missed it. On 28th Feb this year I found out... then just 3 weeks later (wow, it felt longer) she was gone.

Now, I wasn't a fan of her. Not at all in fact. When she was first on Big Brother I thought her ridiculous, hideous, pathetic, idiotic, desperate... the works. She became a background amusement but I never had an ounce of respect for her. Yet when all this came to light, and with the news that she had apparently become a Christian too, I strangely felt emphatically passionate. Like I loved her and wanted to tell her and encourage her and explain that she was special and her faults didn't matter and I was sorry for judging her. I thought it was because I was a Christian now, I suppose that's true in a wider sense. I also wanted her to understand just how huge and amazing her new hope in Jesus was, that He could actually heal her and transform her as well as bring her peace. I wished I could break into the world of PR that couldn't affirm this truth - I even wrote her a song! I thought this was because I have a heart to see a break through of miraculous power and healing that points towards God and shakes the nation. All these things are true, yet somehow there was more...

One friend said to me that he thought I had an unhealthy obsession with her. I tried to explain that I was not idolising Jade, far from it, I wanted to recognise her as a actual person. They said I couldn't do that as I didn't know her. I didn't tell them that I felt like I did... I had no justification at all for that. I even noted to myself the irony that, as she died her death in the public eye (doing interviews to the end and raising money to support her two boys) the whole world reported on it and I, in all my sincere passion, had not written one blog. It was like because it was real it was private.

In her last months the heat was turned up under Jade and I came to realise it was in the fire of refinement that I saw synonymy between her and I. This verse in Isaiah 43 (that I do believe was left for me in a comment here) has been a real comfort to me recently and it became the chorus for the song I wrote her:

You'll walk through the fire and you won't get burned
You're just being refined and there's a lot to learn
But you've got God on your side
And you're making Him smile
It's the Daddy's pride
And it's all worthwhile

I found that I was singing it to myself a fair amount too.

But it wasn't until the night of the day of the funeral that it hit me just why I was so moved for her: I too was coming to the end of my "Jaded" period in life. Not that I will suddenly be made perfect, but hopefully I am significantly moving on from the false bold securities that I have. That is, after all, what refinement is about - being made really hot (and bothered) until only the Good stuff remains.

So, as I didn't report on her journey to the grave, I also didn't blog mine... until now.

For I think that Baby Got Brit, with all it's "charm" and flippant public intimacy, is symbolic of what I am being refined away from. Not that there is anything wrong with who I have been in the process - loving Jade so very very much made me see just how OK it is to have faults; and the soft spot I had for her has been releasing in terms of my own masked shame. But in aspiring for her healing and growth, nay transformation, I realise that I must aspire for my own.

For Baby you are lovely but, aside from all the issues with content, quantity, being totally tangled in direction, the disorganisation in your tags, incontinuity to your themes, out-dated picture and lack of returning back to the hundreds of things you start to mention... aside from all this and more is the simple truth that you are no longer Kat(i)e.

Why not?

I am not platinum now - we all know how significant the hair is.

The girl that went to Paris and met the pilots (reference in the second verse) was a lifetime ago :)

I don't actually say "to h*ll with discretion anymore", I think sometimes it may have its uses!

SHOCK HORROR at the asterisk above - As far as my thoughts on swearing go, in short: I still think it is subjective; it is definitely about the heart; I found out I didn't have as much control over my tongue as I would have liked; I knew that the perception of others is part of the question but I've realised that trying to change that is a tough battle and I want to pick the ones that are most important - I don't think this is one of them.

As for the name, well... I am not a "citizen of the world" anymore so, though Britain will always be close to my heart, I don't want to make it part of my identity. Plus, who knows where God will take me...!

And then there is "Baby".

It has been quite a journey, this blog. From before I even properly made the call to be a Jesus-follower, through my rebirth, all the early questions and now this period of refinement and preparation. I have pretty much exhausted the "observations of a recent convert" theme and, though I have loved it, it is time to let go and move on to something bigger and better. After all, Paul did say:

"When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things." 1 Corinthians 13:11

In all seriousness, the distance I have been brought in the past year astounds me and, actually, I don't want to pretend that I am not weaned. And not just because I am nearly at the age that I think adulthood begins...! I feel different. However scary moving on is, it is time to do it. Life is a race and that means forward motion.

So. Bye bye Baby. Immature, British, brash, broken. I hope it doesn't seem like I'm slagging Jade off - I love us both. I just know that the time has come for a part of me to embrace the same fate as her and wave goodbye to everything that doesn't stand up to the baptism of fire.

Jade Goody. Don't you love that name? The two sides to her summed up... how could this larger than life character be anything but a powerful symbol of modern human "reality" that will be profound to the end - where she found the true reality of a hope that defeats death?

So now I step back from the public eye as she finally has and, laying down my defenses, die to my old self. But then, through the power of Easter, I can rise again a New Creation; as she too has found her resurrection in Christ!


So, what is this New Creation? Mostly off-line actually!

But I don't want to stop blogging just yet. ['Phewww' I hear, from those dedicated few that made it to this point in The Longest Blog Post Ever Written!] I have, instead, identified a sub-theme that I wish to extract from my ramblings and isolate in a new inter-web location. That is:

Analogy!

I know I know, if bloggers are better known for anything than they are for over-divulging it is their tacky metaphors. But I Don't Care! I can't help it, I love 'em and find them all the time, everywhere. I can even justify this with a verse:

"Now we see things imperfectly as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely." 1 Corinthians 13:12

To me this just expresses perfectly what it is about analogy that is so significant - how actually everything is an imperfect metaphor for (or isomorphic subset of) the ultimate truth. And what do you know, it comes directly after the verse about putting away childish things. As one door closes, another opens...!

It won't be about my life per se. I think that moving focus away from ourselves is actually quite important, particularly for self-indulgent "media hungry" lil' old me. I will explain more in the new location:

www.analogisethat.blogspot.com

Basically, though, I want to ponder more, divulge less and say what I observe not what I do.

It's not gonna be all stuffy poetic pretentious nonsense mind. Nor will I lose my "cool edge" as I am changed. This can often be the fear/criticism: that when we let God take over our lives we become that certain sort of "religious" (as in not the James kind) loser that is prim, ghastly, monotone and void of individuality. I reckon that God, in all His infinite enormity, has enough facets that we could all take on His image and still be entirely unique and different from each other. This is why I am not terrified of reformation...

That, and perfect love casts out all fear. God must be the only person (I don't mean person, but what else can one say?) who loves us so perfectly that His constructive criticism melts hearts instead of puts up defenses.

So BGB is laid to rest in peace; or goes toddling onwards and upwards if you prefer.

And as I read all the lovely things Miss S wrote about me back then I wonder if, though some fade away, others might increase over time...? Perhaps. I do hope so. The worth of what I am becoming so outweighs the losses that, though goodbyes are sad, it is all I can do. All I want to do. As a wise man once said, sometimes something has to die before something else can come to life and grow.

While we are yet to be made perfect there will always need to be endings; the important thing is to look forward to what begins next, whatever that may be... One thing of which I am sure: it won't make me cry.

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?!

Clearer Vision

There has been so much learning going on this "season". It's cool but it sure isn't conducive to writing snappy thought-out posts. Which is, clearly, what BGB is all about. Hmmm, what I have I been doing in my regular life then, if faith is too much to discuss...

I bought new glasses! It took me 2.5 hours to choose them which was terrible and I wanted to die and there were about 4 staff members trying to help me pick them out till they all got fed up. I finally found my second pair (it was buy one get one free) when a women started getting unopened stock out for me to see - what with me having tried everything on the shop floor.

But, after much patience and waiting, wanting things to be right and them not being, stressing and feeling terrible for stressing other people, pretending I was nearly there when I wasn't and very very almost compromising... I got the poifick pair. Really really good. (I actually got 3 in the end: red like when I was small, black funky-secretary style and a really cheap granny round pair from the really cheap granny round range.) I tried and tried to make it happen but in the end I simply had to be rescued by something that was totally out of my control. Even praying was not bringing a direct result and I was terrified I would keep stalemating till I freaked out; yet eventually I loved what I came away with and they could not be better.

Maybe there is something in that. At a time when all my anger, pain and bitterness towards past friends, not-so-friends, God, you name it suddenly hit me (just when I thought it had all gone) and seemed to totally overwhelm my "walk", I got a little message whilst at church to do with the Exodus. Particularly this bit. My Egyptians, whatever, whoever they are, are riding over the distant sand dune and gaining on me. Nowhere to run to. No more forcing it I have nothing left to give, I am trapped by the red sea and desperate. Yet, I am being promised deliverance. When there is no hope and no way out there is light at the end of the tunnel (or perhaps damp sand at the bottom of a miraculous passageway). Dude it even follows the baby analogy of a few posts ago (teehee, deliverance you get it?).

I really can't force this. I have to stop. I may look like I am walking in sin and messing up and being unrighteous and everything but there is no use in having a faith that is grounded in work and obligation. I can't possibly do this. I have tried everything and nothing is right and now I am waiting for the answer that cannot be picked off a shelf and chosen by me to suit - he is going to have to hand me the perfect fit. Which is cool because that is the verse that comes next. I am not fighting this one, regardless of what Timothy says. 'Tis not for me actually Haggai, I am on a different page.

Once again I have started on the mundane and gone on to stretch a ridiculous analogy. I don't care, I like it.

Night x

The Analogy That Keeps on Giving

I am waiting for growth. Enjoying it short while it lasts. Surely I can let the metaphor go for a while.

But no! What's happened now? I hear you ask. Is the style growing out, maybe I got a trim or a perm (wow that would not work at all)? I actually think that the shape is doing OK. I may or may not tidy it up when I get back to London but it seems to have lasted alright.

I have simply made an insightful observation based upon pre-existing features.

Before I got the chop and went for the "cut the crap and start again approach" to my hair. I was trying to bring it back to ginge (which, in case you didn't know due to repeated brainwashing of jealous people, is a wonderful colour akin to gold and totally cool) the artificial and "fast-tracked" way. That is through dye. The latest time I tried this, when my roots were already at least an inch long, they used an "organic permanent mix" instead of the usual semi as it would be better for the condition. Organic you say? Bring it on I say. BUT, you know what this means? The bit of root I had that ended up being the bulk of the short drastic 'starting again' haircut was actually dyed.

Which meant that I turned out to be more ginger than I actually am naturally.

Only fractionally, maybe a shade more orange, but it does notice in the right light (now my true true roots are coming through) and the overall effect is subtly but significantly brighter.

And this is where it gets clever see. I have been thinking about how maybe I have been being a bit "too" Christian of late. Like, it started out funny and it still is a lot of the time but I don't want to become someone that is all about generic identity and forgetting the fearfully and wonderfully made part.

Looking for your new identity in Christ can be hard, particularly when there are things in your old identity that are tied in with negative conotations. The temptation is to say these things I knew about me are wrong and I need to "find myself" again but you know what, Jesus has already found me. I once was lost but he left those 99 sheep to look for me and is now rejoicing over me with singing. Along with all the angels. I just need to take out the bits of debris that I picked up in the wilderness.

For example: I talk a lot. I mean a lot. There are good things in this. Some of my friends have really encouraged me with statements such as "I like it 'cause it means I don't have to" and it sure comes in handy with some people some of the time and certain types of in-your-face evangelism. But this verbosity has been a bit of point of tension for me, particularly recently since, delightful character trait though it is, it becomes hard to pretend that being "too much" is always other people's problem. I mean, you seldom hear people say that Russell Brand just isn't understood properly and should be put in charge of more things, do you?! Unless you hear it from me that is... "They just can't handle me" was not something that Paul said about mixing with both the Jews and Gentiles etc. So from this came the temptation to believe, based upon the times that I miss the mark, that I am actually just totally wrong in myself. I sure didn't want to live in denial of things I need to change.

The idea of refinement vs rejection of these qualities got a bit muddled up till I wasn't really sure where the old me and the new me changed over. I know I do get it wrong and have a tendency to sometimes speak compulsively and without due care and attention but I didn't want to throw the baby out with the bathwater and assassinating my whole unique character seemed a bit drastic. Confusing.

But the hair thing helps a lot.

As I see it, I am a hell of a lot closer to natural than platinum blonde was. In all the process of trying to force myself into God's identity for me I just got a bit carried away and over did it. But it is relatively small, it will not last forever and it isn't a bad bad match. In time the ends will become a smaller ratio of dyed to real and then, little by little, get trimmed away. (Mum, could you book me that appointment actually please!)

People that know me of late think I'm a bit off the wall; people that knew me before Switzerland think I have calmed down a lot; people that watched it happen... I don't really know what they think...! But somewhere in the middle of all this is a happy balance and I just need to peace out and let God make it happen. In time. As I wait patiently and don't try and force it 'cause actually that don't work. I am alright. I am not perfect. I am in the best possible hands.

When was in GVA and we did the gig (a prime time for God showing me insecurities I forgot I had) we dressed up in *quite* silly outfits. Both my other band members (which is why I am putting their pic up too! Share the responsibility...) wanted orange hair and I am game for most things. So we did this:

Which now screams to me to be the perfect symbol of what I am not supposed to do. Put on make up and fake it to make the issues go away. I ain't conforming for anyone, it isn't about being as orange as I can (fun though it sometimes is!) but about being as orange as I am supposed to be. The blonde in strawberry blonde is there for a reason.

Best of both. Like hovis only not bread.

Bah Humbug

I am such a boring old fart. I've had it with Christmas parties. Everyone pretending it is going to be amazing when really it is just hyped up normal time but with people more uncomfortable, stressed, with silly expectations and sore feet. Don't get me wrong, all 4 of the ones I've been to so far have been enjoyable (went to a Ceilidh tonight!)... but it's hard work to keep merry for that long and I usually want to be at home curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea.

I really am old before my time. But it is difficult. I go to uni with people who are all at least 2 years younger than me and I already feel older than I am most of the time (I keep accidentally lying about my age). I hate being a student. I hate the stereotype and the funny hours and the lack of respect and the way people assume you like to stay up late and get wasted. I don't. I like to stay up late and write my blog and if I do drink alcohol I almost always want to fall asleep afterwards.

I still love learning. I have that to be thankful for. Today I had an exam worth 25% of my French unit and, while there are loads of things that weren't amazing and the listening was chronic, I was a bit prepared. And all because I did work! Which sounds pathetic and I don't want to self curse but I do find work very very hard to concentrate on. But today, in the space of about 5.5 hours I did I'd say at least 2.5 worth. Mixed up with chilling and eating and showering and playing the piano and all other good stuff. OK it sounds ridiculous but for me that was a miracle and a sign, a HUGE sign, that God is actually working in my life.

My second presentation last week was another one. The first I did before visiting La Suisse and I was grateful I managed to do anything (I had been so scared it wouldn't work out and I would lose all faith in God). The second one I genuinely believed that He would be there and He was. I remember saying to myself that this was not going to be fun but it was going to happen... and it did! And it went quite OK too - got a few laughs and that's what philosophy of maths is about afterall... I actually feel more faithful. I think.

What am I even talking about? There are two points me thinks. I am amazed and delighted that my work is starting to turn a corner. I am a boring Scrooge today that has lost her Christmas cheer and feels in limbo.

But I must remember what dear Jo said to me tonight. It was about my hair. She has wonderful long locks that I want badly but she said that sometimes she just wants to be short and choppy and crazy. That I need to get it out on my system now so that when I have it long I won't pine for the funky times. Transferring that to the analogy and fit it together with some of the other disconnected thoughts I've been having recently and I suppose one could say I need to live young, free and single while it lasts. Enjoy the journey, enjoy the crazy funky cool mystery that is not really knowing what is going on and be fresh while I still am (given that I am not actually physically that old comparatively and definitely not spiritually). I don't really know how much longer the hair will be short anyway. Could be weeks, could be years. Better make the most of it! Spike it up a bit and don't force the parting before it is really there...

I am just hoping I can do these things from the comfort of my own living room.

P.S. My blogging is off form at the moment. Sorry. Don't give up, I've got some good 'uns up my sleeve... Laters.

A Discovery of Deception

I was just now thinking about what it is that's so hard about struggles. Life struggles, faith struggles, dealing with personal issues or just being motivated to live in all fullness. Just anything hard really.

And I discovered a LIE! You know one of those things that you just think without realising that it is a load of bollocks.

When I get demotivated, which is quite a lot actually, it feels like I am wasting life. I know I am doing wrong when I seek comfort in bad places (I've tried quite a few in my time and though my vices are less these days there are still plenty of things that get me, some more that others. Like blocking out reality by going on line, or comfort eating...) and generally don't live up to God's perfect ideal. Which really sucks.

Then of course enters the knowledge that I really need to sort out my self discipline. It is biblical and good (especially for managing time which is of utmost importance to me and also something that Mrs P31, my inspiration, did). It gives one self control instead of letting worldly things take over. Fasting is SUCH a good example, it can bring me out of a fleshly plane and helps me focus on the spiritual realm a bit more.

But something was going majorly wrong.

I've been a bit run down spiritually, going up'n'down in a mostly usual way but it has been growing slowly more negative as the low moments are becoming longer. I often put this kind of thing down to when God is doing cool stuff in and/or through me and the debil does not like it. Makes sense of late, life is pretty intense and exciting on many fronts...

So I have been really fixated on the goal of self-control as being my key to unlocking this depression. Like, getting out of bed on time, eating sensibly, setting goals for work and other such targets. All the stuff that I know works, is biblically sound and therapistically too come to think of it. Forming a habit and then inhabiting the form (Don'tcha love that?).

But I missed the point entire and I think that perhaps this kinda stems from the fact that I looked at the psychology and having noted that it's *like* the bible followed it instead; forgetting that the bible is the first truth and how things that looks like it are a semblance or a shadow of the truth. Likely to break down in their validity at some point, as they forget about my omnipotent God.

'Cause the thing that makes no sense is that when the moment is at it's most crucial - where every decision is hardest and the easiest things to do become huge goals; going to a lecture is a day's worth of achievement and getting a coursework actually completed and handed in on time feels like it should last a week; having a single positive thought feels like you have won some prize but the balance can tip in an instant - that is when I am supposed to exert self-control. It's already impressive to be disciplined when life is hunky dorey and I make the choice to get up before 9, wash, read, go to uni, pray, be slightly organised and tidy and make the most of most of my time. To then put my emotions at the other end of the scale where getting up at all becomes an achievement and turning up late to a seminar feels like I deserve a first class degree and THEN say I need to train myself into positive habits... Now THAT really is akin to getting a camel - a very miserable and stubborn camel - out of a big pit of mirey clay and telling it to understand Second Order Logic.

Duh. This isn't Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. I am not supposed to be "training" myself to do anything.

I've just seen that what I've been trying to do is akin to using Will Power and thus living in my own strength. By sneakily disguising it under the name self-control which we all know is a good thing Satan can bring in an incredible amount of pain to a struggle that is supposed to be easy to bear. That verse in 2 Peter, "make every effort..." doesn't mean you "try on your own". We cannot do these things by own own strength. This self-control that helps us live a Godly life, it is one of the fruits of the Spirit and it is funny how utterly subtly I just forgot that these are given to us and not something we work for. We must desire it but we do not have to DO a single thing to receive it.

Those who hope in the Lord WILL renew their strength and rise up on wings like eagles.
I hope so I will. I don't will to have hope.

Wendy

is my gorgeous black cocker spaniel. See?

Her and I have an incredible affinity, in keeping with the whole like your owner thing - a moody strumpet that loves to play but then gets very emotional in an instant and puts herself to bed. And lo and behold anyone who disturbs her there, the growling is her way of reminding you that one step closer and she will attack. Ask Robyn, I have a high adoreability threshold (subjective) but cross it and your life in my company is not worth living.

But I do need to learn to curb my emotions. I mean, sometimes I am somewhat legitimised in my feelings; sometimes I am physically and/or emotionally run down enough to use it as an excuse and get some pity afterwards; but never am I justified to be such a bitch.

Tonight I witnessed a scary and I do confess slightly comic thing. I was worried 'cause it produced a noise that made me think Wendy was possessed. I was amused 'cause it sounded like she was growling and hucking up huge amounts of phleghm at the same time. I was also moved to make an analogy. Alright, that last one was a bit of a lie. I was getting bored of the blog I was writing and figured (in keeping with my quick enthusiasm and short attention span) that I would start a new one.

My mum was trying to discipline Wendy. The vision is that one day she will be safe around small children. (Some might say it is about 3 years too late but good luck with trying mum!). Her method was teaching submission - pining the dog gently but firmly to the floor by the neck! Oh my it sounds cruel when you put it like that, but she got it off the telly (lol) and to be honest W was just pissed off at the idea and not really suffering at all.

Makes me think a bit about me and my discipline. Sometimes God takes us for lovely long flat walks along the canal, lets us stop when we get tired and it is always some beautiful scene or other and lovely weather. Then, just as you are enjoying life he comes along and sits on your neck. All for the benefit of being able to trust us with more important things and only a bit uncomfortable really, but not nearly as fun.

So, next time I am feeling the call to be subdued I should bear in mind that everyone else in the room will only be laughing if I make stupid noises, kick up a fuss, then go sulk in my basket. I think I would rather get the reward even if I don't like the feeling of being put in my place.

All this said, We must be careful with who is doing the discipline, or perhaps how we are doing it to others. Mum did admit (after a classic fail where Wendy just ended up grumpy and I swear to you glaring at us all from under that floppy fringe) that she had not actually seen the start or the end of the program.

So that's the tenuous message gleaned from an earlier moment of amusement. Be prepared to be submitted (if that is possible linguistically speaking) but please, be wary of people that don't really know what they're doing. Discernment is only good if it is used gently after all (thanks for that wisdom C).

A wrong move only makes a person more rebellious in the long run and then they might miss the important lessons. If your doing it, be careful; if you've experienced it, don't let it screw you up.

Ta ta! x

My Second Love

I just read a post from Darryl's blog - about a Henri Nouwen video we watched t'other week at YAGs. Don't worry, I seldom actually visit TYC. I read it on Facebook so he doesn't get my hits...

Anyways. It was a really inspiring video and reading that post reminded me of what I had gotten from it, not to mention the pretty cool realisation I made after, so I though I would share. Some of you may know all too well what I am talking about and for others it will be nice and vague - the vagueness is sufficient for the example and, if you do understand all too well, I don't suppose it matters.

When I went to Paris in October and watched the Rugby World Cup final I had a pretty fun time. There's a few legendary stories - see here for example - but the real clincher for me now, I must admit, is the way in which God spoke to me. [This comment reminds me of the thing Sara said t'other day about what my parties are likely to turn into. A recent incident that only confirms the journey of my reputation down the plughole was when my visiting friends wanted to watch one of the infinite sky channels on my ginormous TV that I seldom-to-never watch. They switched it on and it was showing The God Channel... saaaaaaaad.]

Getting off the tangent. God talked to me there about love and how we need to love each other and ourselves and that all love comes from Him and it is His love that we are ultimately seeking. There is more to this I know, about loving God back for example (see Darryl's post - I am trying to move away from the competitiveness a little now it's an official grace killer. If it's on the list I MUST obey...) but at the time I was in a place (spiritually that is) where I didn't know what I believed and could not really understand the idea of loving God, let alone all that Christian jazz. So He gave me some survival tips and a real experience of His love for me. All this hapened in Paris, the City of Love, speaking the Language of Love and in the Sacré Coeur (sacred heart). The symbolism was not lost on me and it felt like I was having a romantic weekend away with God.

Anyway. The thing from Henri? Well if you are a regular reader (one of 4) you may have noticed that one of the things I have been learning about is God being my first priority, not letting man distract from Him and making sure that I put my trust and hope and love into Him. It's taken me a while since Paris, I still have a long way to go and He has made it pretty clear that until I can be wholly into that there is not going to be space for anyone else on my life. We're talking about boyfriends in case you hadn't picked up on that. When I was traveling in June I did a lot of learning about this (there was a pretty cool analogy, that I wrote about here, from Budapest). Henri phrased it in a fabulous way: "God is your First Love and man (relationships of all kinds) is your second. If you look in your second love for what you can only find in your First then you will crash." (That's not a direct quote but its close.)

I already knew this but it was good to be reminded and hear someone else put it so well. Then, when we were in the tea shop after YAGs (it gets worse and worse, we used to go to the pub), talking ont I realised sommat cool as an extra.

Here goes with the necessary personal detail. When I was in Budapest I was inadvertently a bit preoccupied with a certain "second love". God was pretty clear to me on what He thought (I realised a little too late) but these things can take over and, well, the days that followed were pretty chocka of visuals and lessons which I made some mention of at the time but did not give all the context. Now you have it you can reread through new eyes (which you will of course now do...).

God really speaks to me when I travel. Symbolism is cool and I love how using different cities He says different things. I can't wait to work out the significance of Bristol...

Geneva's easy: the motto is "post tenebras lux" - after the darkness, the light; Paris: city of love; Budapest? Well, people call it the Paris of Eastern Europe and at the time I could not help but think 'oooh, this is the encouraging love symbol for the certain preoccupation'. Eh Eh. (supposed to be a sound effect from a quiz show, did it work?) That Tuesday 2 weeks back I suddenly realised....

...Budapest does represent the preoccupation (I think from now on whenever I fancy someone I will refer to them as my preoccupation!), just not how I was looking at it. The Second City of Love, or perhaps rather City of Second Love by it's very name is akin to what M Nouwen described. It also has a real history of violence and corruption - the damaging potential of human love. It is love but it is the kind Henri warns of: not perfect, certainly not enough and with the propensity to go horribly wrong if that is where you are storing your treasure.

Now for the thing that was OVERWHELMING cool, as I was sitting in Kafé Deko talking myself hoarse: check out what I bought in the second hand shop in Budapest...

(It's mirror image but I can't flip it)

Even looking for the wrong type of love, in the city of the wrong type of love, I found (as God so graciously revealed Himself) perfect Parisian Love to take away with me - in the shape of a very cool retro compact mirror. It may have taken a while to realise but I was carrying it around all along.

Ooh ooh ooh! Last thought. If the sunglasses I lost (see this to understand) are the second love, they give a tinted view of the world. The mirror, the First Love, reflects a perfect image of who I am. There has to be something deep in that. I can't believe I'm now glad I lost them! Lol... too true...

Sorry it's such a long message. I just though that those that appreciate this kind of thing probably like the details too. That and I can't help myself!

Blog-down

It is the final week and though I am busy and have many other things in the agenda, I want to do a bit of a blog based count down. Making little observations everyday kinda thing. It is no doubt just classic procrastination to avoid packing and cleaning. Problem is, my blogbook (the place where I write down all the nonsensical trite that happens to me when I am not near a computer) is overflowing from just a few hours of life; and there is some AMAZING praise points which really should be included; and I already had an idea of what I wanted to write for this entry from days ago but it looks like I may not get the chance. I have, afterall, already filled a paragraph with the introduction.

Was my last day at JdeM. That is the homeless kitchen for those that don't know. I was going to summarise what I've learnt there, catch up on what actually happened with the music idea and stuffs like that. Now you will have to wait, again, 'cause even today more über-cool wicked bad shit went down.

I was reading in Joshua the other day (just the first coupla chapters and no that does not mean I have finished Genesis, I am just skipping ahead - I love that about the Bible!) about how God was going to give him every place that he set his foot. Pretty acebloodytastic stuff in beaucoup trop ways and I would encourage you to dwell ont 'cause I probably won't be spending time exegesing it. Anyways this portion, combined with a friend that has been encouraging me to pray for what lies ahead and claiming it for my own before I get there, plus the fact that at the end of the chapter 2 it talks about the people melting in fear because God will conquer, got me really excited about the idea of seeing Him moving in places where He is not yet and the power of praying for it and seeing it happen. So, during a lull at the kitchen (mid-morning we tend to have a bit of a wait period and I am disadvantaged in the standing around smoking and gossiping stakes on several fronts) I decided to walk all around and pray for the place and the people there and those coming in and for the future that there would be God in da house and a way made for it and all that jazz. Yes it came across as a shuffling mutter but they see that quite a lot there. I was really excited by the idea, particularly in light of some of the progress that I had already seen in the attitudes of the people that worked there (which I am yet to mention but it did happen and was cool). Wanted to see the people's issues left at the door and not picked up again. I was quite up for believing that it would be an effective thing to make a difference - I think that I am such a prime example of prayer working that my propensity to doubt is not as high as my propensity to other things... as Robyn and I were taking about over dinner though, this just leaves more room for other propensities.

Anyways, did I see results? Did I ever! Not exactly what I was expecting mind. It was like the Tracy Chapman song - poor people were rising up and taking what was theirs. There was a new woman working there who had not had the weeks of prayer that had gone down, way back when the last grumpy cow was in charge (no offense intended, just the best description going) and she was overwhelmingly opposed to anyone being, well, happy. The thing in Geneva is that the poor aren't nearly as poor as in other places and half of what we give them is not food so much as a brief place to be and find some love. They got none of that from her and, while they can lack friendliness at times, never have I seen anyone refusing seconds to hungry street walkers when there is plenty there and it is normal policy. It was like she was fighting against joy. Pretty damn stressful actually and it occurred to me that, while I was subject to her direction, God clearly says only follow the law of the land when it does not go against His - and His says clearly in Isaiah 58 (as well as many other places I am sure) about feeding the hungry. Was I Supposed to rebel? I was, after all, holding the spoon... and it was my last day. With a lot of pressure from those talkin' bout a revolution and bit of feeble eventual arguing from me (I like to claim language barrier as an excuse but it doesn't really graduate to reason), she finally gave in a bit for a time, though stayed firmly in the misery camp (the rubbish alternative to the glory camp). Really felt like a "things have been stirred up" situation. If that makes sense. Was cool to watch in a horrifying manner mind, and would defo have made a good music vid for Trace.

Talking about being able (or not) to do pretty awesome/intense stuff in the name of following God's commands: a not very close friend of mine (some guy I met through the reggae crew) that I have in the past had some pretty interesting chats with (where I try not to be judgmental over him putting veganism above sexual purity) totally blew me away today. I have been getting really excited with his coming to church and really getting into God stuff and hearing about breakthroughs in his life. It is really cool actually but I have been awakened to the patronisation of my attitude - it didn't take long to go from new and open to set in ways and condescending did it? Amidst all this "I want to see you coming into God's way like I have" he tells me - when I finally noticed the 5 inch gash down the side of his face and asked about it - that it happened when he brought back a guy from the park to sleep at his place 'cause he had nowhere else to go. The dude attacked him with a knife from his own kitchen! And now he is all Jamaican and relaxed about it and joking about how the next person he meets in the park will just have to stay there! I would be a bit more pissed and a lot more martyr than that.

People really surprise you don't they?

Forward

I felt like God wanted me to send an email today. So I did. It was about something that I really knew he'd taught me and then suddenly I decided he wanted to teach someone else too. Now I think perhaps I will tell you, just in case it is relevant:

When I quit smoking I did not at first succeed and then, when I found myself doing it and keeping it a secret because everyone at church thought I had stopped, I felt a lot of guilt and shame. God really spoke to me about this. It is a huge area in which Satan has power if we give it to him. The way I started to look at it was that I was already falling into a trap of temptation by giving in to the desire to smoking, but if I also felt guilty about it then that gives the devil a double victory.

So I would encourage you, as you tackle this issue, to not give in to the second temptation. God will help you with you addiction and He does not judge you for it but loves you despite it. You have no right to feel bad about yourself as you are loved by God and your path is in Him. Seek after Him help, tell Him you can't do it, but don't tell yourself you are rubbish or can't succeed or have failed. He is the God of second chances, and third and fourth...

So that is it. If you are going to smoke, try reading your bible as you do it. I did and I felt like I was give the finger to Satan because even though I was struggling in one area it did not keep me from seeking after God. And I think it is one of the ways that I was freed from need because it helped me give the issue more and more to God. He can see us in everything we do so why not do it in front of Him and be open about the problem.

It is in the loneliness and guilt that the strong hold comes, don't let Satan keep you down.

There you go. Combining the ease of not having to write a new post with confession! Good for the bedtime and the soul. Note that you can insert for "smoking" any sin, vice or temptation. I know I do!

Ciao ciao...

Odd Job Lady

Sometimes I feel a bit like God's odd job girl.

This is a familiar role 'cause I used to work as the shop girl in a florists when I was 14. I'm throwing that in because it is, in my humble opinion, one of the cooler first jobs for someone to have. It involved turning up on the day and being available for any task they so desired, from setting up the front, washing the floor, or putting out new flowers to making bouquets and funeral sheafs. In no particular order and I am not trying to make any direct analogy (getting lazy it seems).

So, what is the similarities between that and my relationship with God? Well, these days I kinda just get out of bed and say 'what today?' and then He gives me an odd job. I may have vague plans in the morning, which somehow or other tend to fit in the bigger picture; often though it is a blank canvas which by the end is totally full of lovely stuff.

I have questioned my motivation for thinking that every moment of the day is part of some orchestrated plan of the Almighty. I mean, for someone that is terrible at making decisions (well at times, mostly when it comes to what to order for lunch or where to go after church) it could seem a bit like a cop out. But things just seem to happen so much that I can't really deny it...

So. Two examples:

1) I ought to have written about last Monday at the time but I was too tired to make it coherent. I got off the tram (16) quite late at night to change at Bel-Air (setting the scene for those in the know) and get a bus home. Some guy that got off [edit - *the tram*] with me starting talking to me (you know, the biggest problem with 'bus stop men' is that they try and pick you up at the bus stop, thus rendering them totally unviable; someone should probably tell them...) but 'luckily' Sara came along and helped take away the tension. (She does this in part by giving the evangelist from the Amercian library church some of her own literature which slightly threw him off and was hilarious!). This guy was stubborn though (not the evangelist, the creep) and he decided to stay on the bus with us way past the station (where he was supposedly heading. Anyone else notice that the 16 would have taken him straight there? Defo dodge...) and I was panicking slightly 'cause she was about to get off and I was not. So I invited myself in for a cuppa. Flirt divert accomplished. We get to hers where I realise I have lost my phone. On calling it some nice French dude answers who had found it on the tram (I recall that I had indeed left it on the side for no particular reason!). I was SO 'fortuitous' I had met Sara (without who communication would have been impossible); and to be chased off the bus so I was actually able to get my phone back; and that this dude was a legend; and that he lived close by her place so we could go retrieve it...

So there we headed there (Sara, thank you for not being distressed by the lateness of this adventure and for not dying of smoke allergies in the flat!) and proceeded to pay the most random visit to people we would never ever have met otherwise. It was a bit like a crack den (in the nicest possible way) and they were really sweet and funny and we exchanged numbers and are going to try and meet up at the lake parade next week!

All this meant I had to walk home. It was about 1am, I was knackered and at the end of my joy reserves. Then I found a leopard print suitcase in the street en route!!! Talk about a blessing... and a perfect end to a crazy night. Now, just before I came to GVA I ordered a full set of leopard print luggage but when it arrived late it was tacky and fragile and incomplete. All that and far to expensive with it. Suddenly, just when I was not expecting it I am given a quality one in perfect timing which totally meets my packing needs. And free! I love the analogy between the failed attempt before and the gift now. My new-life-in-Jesus wheeliecase!

2) Then there was today. Having prayed with Robyn last night for direction on where to put our energies this summer I started today with a bit of a plan. First off was breakfast with a friend from church (exciting enough in it's own right about music with the homeless and also a praise party project at church but too much for now) after which I was going to help with engaGE at the JdeM kitchen. They were not open (I knew that but would anyone listen!) so I headed home. Was most of the way there when I realised I had lost my brown velour Dolce and Gabbana waistcoat. Retraced all the way to the lake but no luck, bummer.

But what a worthwhile sacrifice (it was pretty ugly anyway) as it triggered a change of direction and a real answer to prayer. I remembered in town that I had some shopping to do anyway and then when I was leaving Manor (having decided to not shop for clothes I did not need and could not bring home) I bumped into Sara... who was heading to another engaGE project (which was running) at Voix Libres. They had lots of stock to organise and whatnot and were a *bit* low on people. Well, the afternoon was spent doing fabulous re-labelling of Quinoa, finding a worthwhile project that really needs people to help and would actually appreciate volunteering (as opposed to the scary French ladies who don't know they need me(jokes!)) and seemingly a great opportunity to both serve and practise my French. And, randomly, to talk about God in an incredibly receptive atmosphere. It was quite remarkable.

You may think "Kat(i)e most of that is hardly 'working' for The Lord is it, at some points it is Him working for you..." Fair enough, it is not a hard life but I still find that every day, whether it is volunteering and feeling good about yourself; taking street people for icecream and learning loads (my favourite quote "I've never tasted bad icecream, have you?" sums up the philosophy of that happy gent); being blessed with sunbathing and friendship and BBQs or just tidying the flat, is a day for doing His will. For one thing, He wants us to be happy and enjoy life! I like it a lot, I never had so much purpose and I never felt less of a need to achieve. I love how He keeps clarifying His love and provision 'til I can barely argue back (though I still do at times). I think maybe one day doubt will end up 'dying the death of a thousand qualifications'. I mean, as a scientist, how much evidence does one need??

Watch this space for comments on men in the church, men in the world and, hopefully, lots of non-feminist and a few non-religious things too... My list of ideas is growing at a faster rate than my availability; I don't know how people find time for a job!

F'd in the A

I am so happy today! Despite the rain which is incessant and totally got in the way of my swim in the lake. Yesterday my weather prayer was SO successful that this morning I decided to take my swim suit with me, rather than my umbrella... I ended up walking down the street with a towel over my head!

Still. Nice lunch, met some lovely new people at church 'fya know what I mean...?! ;-) Enjoyed playing the piano in the service; I have been doing that for a few months now, approx every other week and am SO lovin' it. It's really helped me with my ability and confidence and been one of the more blatant blessings of life here.

What other ones are there? Well, getting away from the UK to be honest was a much needed and welcome break. Then there is my pimp place to live (I have a rooftop pool!) and wonderfully slow working week (4-20 hours long during the afternoon and some weekends) which is now totally at an end for the summer. So many fabulous opportunities for trips and activities like skiing, rafting and other fun stuff came along too. The friends, who I can't begin to express how much I love and value, play a MAJOR part: at the YAGs group (I'll expound another time, needless to say a silly Christian acronym but I have heard worse!), church and the ones I met in trains and clubs too - love you guys!

I have also learnt A LOT. God aside, one obvious thing is French, which though not at all perfect is much better. My dear friend who teaches me for free and diligently sees me every week over a lovely soirée has really taught me a lot, both linguistically and spiritually. Others have shown me a bit of Russian too (I can ask where the toilets are, recite poetry and say "I want to have your babies"!) which will come in handy when I adopt my Eastern European baby. Well, it might not. I mean there are lots of languages 'over there' and I probably won't get a Russian child since they actually have population problems and, as Erkki says, "You have to learn Finnish to understand Finnish" which I think is a principle that can be applied to most languages.

I digress.

Sometimes I feel like I am in a stream of consciousness. I ought to read that book that Carolyn told be about (please remind me) but I would struggle 'cause I'd then want to write about it afterwards/as I went along and so the vicious cycle continues. I do feel a bit like Russell Brand when he says his life is a "serious of embarrassing incidents strung together by telling people about those embarrassing incidents" but where you replace the word 'embarrassing' with 'mediocre' and 'telling' with 'boring [people] with'... And perhaps 'people' with 'my parents, my sister and MS twice a day'. Hmmm.

I have a bit of an obsession with remembering things though, hence the stream-like flow. I sometimes need to boycott journaling 'cause else it takes over and I do literally spend my life writing about it. (I mostly got the blog to force me to check spelling and grammar.) This is also exemplified (word choice?) in things such as filling up my phone Inbox and then getting a new one! And I keep all the receipts and labels I ever get; if you saw my room back home you might wonder what all the drawers and boxes are full of. Well, now you know!

But, slowly, that is being dealt with. For a start I no longer print receipts at cash machines - breakthrough! Funny story: when I told Darryl I 'need' to keep receipts he took it very to heart and when he ordered his lunch gave me his food ticket too. Sweet. I was like, Darryl, I don't need yours.... but, well, now I do 'cause it's a keepsake! Ha ha!

So, I just came clean about one of my biggest oddities. I didn't even mean to, I really am good at digressing aren't I?! I suppose I see it as one of the bigger blessing from this year; freedom from shit like that. I don't think I could do it on my own strength and I see little point in trying now I know God is much better. It's like, I could just about cope and be really argggh or I could give up, move on and reach higher heights. Why take 40 years to get across a 40 day desert? He is in general responsible for everything so I may as well let him be in total control and do it really really well. I have 40kg to bring all my stuff back, which is a lovely biblical number, let's see what God can do...!

Oh and meaning of title? Well, that is a legendary phrase that my student used when she had done something really well (if you don't get it don't ask, you don't want to know) and seeing as she got a 6/7 for her maths mark today I am pretty pleased. I was going for the 7 but hey, she wasn't even passing last year and this way I get to not be proud!

So, another blessing from my time abroad. That and the Salvation. Shouldn't forget Salvation... Which by the way has 7 meanings from original Jewish (I think I mean Hebrew right?) or perhaps Greek: saved, protected, liberated, preserved, free from harm, complete, without defect. I like these all.

Shit old life: F'd that in the A. Even better than a good exam result in my humble opinion... Sorry if it got too personal; I think perhaps that green tea does, after all, have caffeine in it (I know you told me sis but I didn't want to believe you and I could not see it on the box). Whoops.

Yet still mostly Whoop!!

Sommat else about Discernment

I was going to reply to Nate's comment on my last entry but I thought I would make a post of it seeing as my morning 'fellowship' so easily ties in with a response. Almost as though it were planned...

I went to see a friend from church this morning who lives in a village just outside Geneva. They have such an idyllic life in the country and the balcony overlooks the school where her two boys go (who are adorable by the way!). We spent the morning planning for the 'kid spot' on Sunday's service - teaching them a song about Obedience. It's fun but I feel a little bit hypocritical - O B E Y obey your mum and dad! She has a great lesson planned to go with it so should be ace. We also talked about the holiday bible club that may be happening. Yet another wait to see what God wants...

And she said something to me that was really encouraging. We were talking about listening to God and whatnot and she reiterated what countless people have said to me recently and which, in true human fashion, is taking much repetition to fix so that I can recall it on my own and take heed: what He wants us to do is be like Jesus.

That statement always seems so sweeping and belittling of the details doesn't it? All God cares about is you being like Him, the shape of your life doesn't really matter, is not significant. But that is not the case at all. The plan is that by being more like Jesus we will start to think like Him. Our desires will align with God's desires and from that we will know what He says about the details. I thought I said it in another post but I forgot to... when I mentioned John 10 in Coffee and Sacraments it was 'cause I had been given that verse by a couple of great mentors who were encouraging me about listening to God's voice by getting to know Him better. I glossed over it in my blog and it appears I missed the point as well since I needed to relearn the lesson. Get to know His voice. What better way to know what someone is thinking than trying to live a life that is in accordance with their desires? Only from that point can The Word (that is Christ, also the good shepherd) be discerned from the Wolves.

I wanted to respond to the comment with a "Well, great for those that can hear it but I'm sticking to what is written down, I've made too many mistakes trying to discern the will of God" but today, for some reason or coincidence, I was in a conversation that encouraged me to not give up just yet. Yeah, Bible GREAT and not to be overlooked on a daily basis, as well as a good way to check if what you hear is in line with Him. But hold true to the promises that He is there to light the path. I mean, the very fact that He is putting people in my life to be wise shows that He speaks in other ways doesn't it...?

There is still the question of is the door is really shut yet? I am not sure how to answer that, but it is being asked so I suppose I will have to give it some prayerful/bible reading thought. This morning I was going to catch a tram and I had three minutes to just cross the street and get on, so I was being leisurely. I know my time was right 'cause it was set by the Swiss transport system. Then the b*st*rd (token gesture as it's before the watershed) left early; as I was pushing the button no less and someone else had just got on. I was in such a fluster, having already been rushing that morning, and I flung my hands up in despair and wanted to cry and give up. Watching it pull away I wandered down the street a little as I didn't want to stand there waiting. It had stopped at a light... I had caught it once before by running to the next stop but I'd had a better headstart then... it was hot, I was wearing a dress and partially broken flip flops (thongs!)... I needed that tram - shoes off and I sprinted. Could not cross the street and found myself dashing down the tracks in hot pursuit (literally, that tarmac was not soothing) and I did just about make it. The risk of being left a second time did not bear thinking about but as I got on the satisfaction was in the conquest. I showed that tram driver, I showed him good.

So, do I fling my hands up in defeat or run to the next stop and see if I am really too late?

Bye Bye Baby (don't make me cry)

Today I was supposed to be meeting a friend at their place early. She lived across town and I was to be there at 8.30 so I could help get her and all her cases to the airport where she would thus depart back to the USofA. Sadness. Also standard Geneva occurrence so we all get pretty hard hearts to it (till it's our turn that is... not thinking about that yet though).

So it was a bummer that my wake up call never happened. I only realised as my cell (nope, I can't/won't do it. It is a mobile; I already called my fringe bangs on Saturday I must stop this before it takes over) rang: it was 8.30 and I was 1 hr minimum from being at her place. Major whoops!

The thing that really peed me off about this whole situation was that I had really wanted to help her out and what I actually managed to do was make her life harder as she had to get down the hill with all her bags (instead of dropping one off the day before) while I rushed over to meet her at the bank so I could help get to the airport at the very least. I hate letting people down and it is rubbish to know that even when I want to be good I am still a fallible human. What hope is there if we can't even rely on ourselves?

I suppose that is what God is for. I mean I was crap and a total let down but still she met someone that gladly helped her to the bus stop (a good 10 minutes down a steep hill in the pouring rain); I got there in record time and met her easily; we got to the airport fine and she still at least got someone to say goodbye to (not to mention she was very forgiving of my faux pas); her flight had been rearranged the day before which was going to make her change in London a LOT easier and as we prayed in the luggage queue for her to not be over-allowance she gets to the desk and they say she had 32 not 23 kgs. Wow! (Some may argue a bummer she did not know sooner I suppose, but that does not help me make my point! She would have struggled to get 64+ kilos on a bus at the other end anyway...).

We then sat in the restaurant and had a drink and a cry and a bit of a pray. We were sitting eyes shut (I know, how cliché) and when we opened them someone had left a pile of napkins on the table for the purposes of tear wiping! How lovely is that?! Awww. People aren't always rubbish now are they?

But I have learnt plenty of other times that they can be (rubbish that is... haven't we all?!) and it is hard to realise that oneself can be too. I suppose it is humbling in a way and reminds us not to be pissed at the people that let us down since we are all just as crappy. The tenuous lesson I would like to take from today (just because I can) is therefore that people can suck, they can be great but that God is always spot on. (Well as evidence thus far proves. All scientists know that it takes infinite successful experiments to prove a theory and only one failed one to disprove it, so we have to agree after "many" trials that something seems consistently reliable, build our whole life upon it and hope that it doesn't all fall apart at the last variable. But then, it's either that or have no theory at all...)

Bye bye Andrea, you will be missed... See you in Nashville!!

Stop The Press

I was going to write about a fun time had with rafting today (though I am now publishing on Sunday as I never got round to finishing the post). First day back in Geneva and I went off on some rapids going at it hardcore and even swimming down a mini-waterfall. Cool or what!

But then something even more amazing happened... I lost my virginity!! Shock value is to be attributed to Robyn, you know what that saucy minx is like. Today was the first time I ever drove a car on the 'wrong' side of the road. Actually it was the right side but it definitely felt strange.

Kudos to be attributed to Beautiful Brian for being so muchos generous and trusting of me with his mega beast of a car. (Though I did later find out he is already scheduled in for a paint job in two weeks!) We were having a BBQ and had shamefully forgotten the marshmallows so he the darling that he is said I could take his car to the Intermarché down the road. I did a roundabout and everything!! And I know that other people were happy for me 'cause I got all kinds of lovely encouraging beeps ;-)

Yeah, first time on the other side; first time in years in an automatic (you may think it's easier but when you are using the break as a clutch...); first time in 6 months that I have even been on the road and all this in a giant 4x4 machine. Good thing I prayed!

The rafting was excellent as well and yet another new experience. As was the dins afterwards: I tried the North America treat smorges (sp??) which takes the classic melted mallow and sandwiches it between Graham Crackers and then adds chocolate. Those Yanks sure like to take things to a new level... Also, beforehand me and the Mr/Mrs went to the international school fair (kurmesse) and set up a stall for her peace building work - I got to do hand printing!! We had a whole judo class dressed in white join in, so yet more risk taking...

Taking risks. It is fun and the results are all the better for it, since you would never have the win if you didn't make the gamble. I have not really mentioned my time in Zurich yet, simply cause I have been 'quite' busy, but I learned a lot there not least about the idea of healing. I know God can do it and I am quite excited to think that maybe 'one day' I will see it first hand in a really real way but well, why not make one day today?

Miracles in general are a tricky thing since, let's face it, they don't always happen the way we ask. I mean take healing: the Bible says ask and it shall be given; it also says that God wants to see people made well and Jesus certainly never picked and chose. So when you look at 'failed prayers' there is a lot of space for potential hurt and confusion. And one of the reasons is that the issue of insufficient faith get bandied about. Well, I asked the guy at the meeting and he was pretty cool about it. He said that Yes, faith is integral but in so many ways. The faith of the receiver, the prayer, even other people around can all be seen in different bible stories (lady who bled, when the disciples prayed, the friends of the guy who got lowered...) but lack of faith is not sufficient to get in the way of healing if God so desires.
"What if some did not have faith? Will their lack of faith nullify God's faithfulness? Not at all!" (Romans 3: 3&4a)
So I think that attaching blame or judgment to those that do not see healing just isn't on.

Because the thing is, we can never understand what God is doing in the bigger picture. There is a difference between getting to know God better and getting to know God and He will always surprise us if he wants to. (Aside: I was saying today that in the past two weeks I had been 'wise' twice! A 'good friend' turns round and says to me that maybe my spiritual gift is Surprise! Meanie. Not totally biblical but totally funny as an idea of what that gift might look like... Back to God...)

One of the key things about the whole question though does seem to be boldness. We need to be able to ask God and be prepared for bad answers, no answers, rejection and foolish appearances. (On the subject of foolish appearances I was sitting on the train from Zurich to GVA yesterday and had a lovely seat: quiet carriage and space to even put my feet up and rest on the table. Then the ticket man comes along and I had even learnt to have my demi-tariff ready. Not sufficient. He looks at it then at me and sternly points out that I was in 1st class. Whoops! I had not meant to at all, it was one of those double decker trains and I didn't know they did classes. Nothing is worse than packing up and realising for the first time that everyone around was really posh and must have been looking at me dodge the whole way; then walking through all the other carriages with people clearly knowing why you were moving; and then arriving in 2nd class to realise that the reason the guard didn't trust you was 'cause it was choca block with soldiers and football fans and they all saw me looking for a seat with 3 bags in tow and probably also knew that I had been, how shall we say it, dislodged? Good thing I don't have to be ashamed anymore isn't it! Back to God...)

But it is hard not to feel foolish or indeed afraid of being let down. That is where the risk taking comes in. Sometime asking God for a miracle is the biggest risk of all because your faith has the potential to be damaged or nullified if the results are not what you hoped.

For example...

I was trying to unscrew a really tight bit on an easel today and it would not budge. So, I thought: let's pray. If God can release demons He sure can loosen bolts. I was totally confident in this new exciting idea of the miraculous and yet it was not moving. Bit deflating actually 'cause even though I am aware that you can't assume God would answer just so, in a way I was like "why not?" Doesn't He wants to help and bless us and is generally the King of the Universe...?

Anyway, we get on with the problem solving and two minutes later I realise that that bolt did not need undoing. In fact, it was holding a large part of the construction together...! I can truly see now that that prayer was not one to be answered.

But what would have happened if there was not this saving factor of a reason? How could I have reconciled that unanswered prayer? Well, maybe the thing is that there always is - a reason that is. Somewhere God has underlying purpose, we just need to be aware that we cannot always understand it. There are constructions that are harder to figure out than the mechanical design of an easel.

So, risk taking is scary. And I think more so with God than in the physical world (unless the physical world involves being fully dependent on God to be your own personal ski instructor! I will not go on another tangent today though...) as there you can see the full extent of the outcomes and have a rough idea of what you are working with. But, with that step of boldness comes huge rewards and so given the screw was not a complete let down maybe next time I will try for sommat else...

Sorry about the length of the post. Everyone that reaches the end gets a Gold Star!

Package Deals

A review.

My trip is coming to an end. Indeed, I am in my final destination as I write this and come ce soir I will be back in the Brooker-Bright love nest, complete with lots of dirty washing and a serious need for intensive conditioner... I don't think I have ever been this excited about people speaking French to me; I sure won't miss looking like a total retard - partial suits me so much better.

So what say me about the whole experience? Well, I am not entirely sure if I have managed to capture just how much of a blessing my travels have been, so I suppose I shall just state it in a really boring obvious manner - better that than miss the point entirely and have you thinking I just had a nice lil' hoilday, which frankly would be an utter misjudgment.

For one thing, I have had a fair few experiences where I have not been conventionally happy. That is to say I've cried, been angry, been lost, been lonely, been starkly not lonely(!), missed opportunities and wasted precious time on fruitless pursuits. In all of this I have at times wanted to give up, go home, throw things or get drunk. Some of those things I may well even have done...!

So, what is my point exactly?

God was with me the whole time.

Do you know the 'Carlsberg don't make [insert word here] but if they did they would probably be the best [repeat word here] in the world' adverts? Well, foolishly and more for the sake of the phrase, I was about to say that God doesn't make holidays but if He did they would doubtless be the best holidays the world. Then I realised that God DOES make holidays. He is a travel agent. An agent of all things in fact. He's an interior designer, a consultant physician, a head chef and a traffic warden. There ain't nothing that He can't do and whatever He does do He do's the best.

What a fabulous role model for us all. That and a continual blessing :-)

I've learnt so much about listening to God, then relistening to God (and no doubt in due course will be learning to rerelisten to Him too). I eventually got the realisation that He wants to be my number 1 all the time and have since been delighted as He started to show me how. Even better, as I made mistakes and felt like I was failing at putting Him first, He showed me that it was ok. Wanna hear a cute story as to how?

Well, I gonna tell you anyway.

Remember how I said in Vienna that I gave someone directions having just got off the train? Well, as I wrote about it in my journal (like my blog but with the juicy bits left in and souvenir train tickets stuck inside the front cover) I realised that God was doing more than giving me a friendly face. What happened was this:

She approached me about 30 seconds after I had left the flat for the first time. I was taking a walk and was in a 'bit' of a bad mood - tired from traveling and being a grumpy cow that was frightfully aware of it and totally inept at dealing with it. Just before we met I had been saying to God how I had let Him down/would shortly be doing so. You know, when you feel bad about it but haven't got the drive to stop it happening? I warned Him that I would be no use at all in Vienna but was instead falling off the path for a bit, which was really rubbish given I thought I had been doing so well since my B and had half hoped it was be the end of all that crap! (Note, I am a perfectionist and am well aware that this was not realstic but was clinging onto the dead sinful nature part of things as opposed to the thorn in the flesh warning... but that's a whole other topic.)

Anyway. A sweet Austrian girl at the tram stop asks me for directions to the number 37 (we were at 37a which strangely is in a totally different place). Observe here that everyone it seems speaks two languages - I felt like a reet fool. (And by here I mean anywhere that isn't England). Now, David had recently texted me info for getting into town using the number 37 tram and at the time I had thought "Fool why did you do that? I have to be at your place in an hour so as to let you in 'cause you gave me your keys..." Suddenly, the message had a use and I was able to take Agnes to the stop. We had a nice but pretty mundane conversation and afterwards I was like "Ok God, it gave me sommat to do I 'spose. No major wisdom or messages from You but maybe it was supposed to cheer me up, what with her cute smiley Austrianess". It didn't really work but at least I felt a bit good helping her get there.
Then it hit me (only two days later) that what He was really saying is this:

It doesn't matter if you are being or feeling rubbish, God can still equip and use you to His own special purpose if you let Him.

Now, stands to reason really. I mean, I don't know about you but I am pretty sure that even when I am on 'top form' I am probably not actually as good as Jesus. So, seeing as we always have to be topped up by God in order to be of effect, what difference do our own fluctuating and finite measures of goodness make anyway?

The key is not in how much we have to offer: it is never enough (remember the loaves and fishes...). It is in the offering that He rejoices and uses us. Obvious when you think about it but how cool that He will arrange the universe around us, just to make sure the message gets through?

For those of you avid followers that saw me planning my social life in the comments, I am currently sitting in an über cute farmhouse about an hour outside of Zurich. I didn't make it to the city and will not now given how late it has gotten, but what I did do was SO MUCH better I don't care in the slightest. More to follow but basically God was at work yet again and I slept in a Heidi hayloft last night and petted a cow this afternoon. Could it be more of a Swiss experience?

Geneva I have missed you and can't wait to get back; but be warned, I done gone changed again. Two and a half weeks post baptism, I would say a big fat "Wow!". Who the hell am I anyway?

Laters, x

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...