John 11:44 The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, ‘Unbind him, and let him go.’

I have been itching to blog for a while but have been making excuses. Aware that I have nothing of worth to say. So why have I decided to blog again today? 

I am yet unsure. All I am consciously aware of is that there are ideas bubbling within me and if I don't break the seal soon I might not ever again. 

This week we have prayed for and celebrated Christian unity within the Church in England. Yet what does this actually mean for us today? 

We live individualistic, micro-unit lives. We connect with those we pass with a blank stare and a focused frown. We may choose to communicate and socialise with our work colleagues to an extent but there is always a line. We contact our 'friends' through social media and 'like' or 'favourite' their life posts without a second glance. We are too busy to offer hospitality to our brothers and sisters in Christ on a Sunday, or any other time of the week for that matter. Where is unity here? How can we pray for it if we do not model it ourselves? 

This week our sermon in our community fellowship was on Lazarus. Our preacher was our amazingly creative and inspirational deputy Warden: Rev. Dr. Kate Bruce. She made two points. The second was, are we willing to unwrap one another, to be there, despite how bad they smell, despite the wounds and likelihood of being leak on in the process? The first was, are we willing to be unwrapped ourselves? Do we really want to experience the full freedom in Christ which we have been given? I won't get into my rant on how the latter informs the prior and how without the latter you can't have the prior, that is for a different writing piece. 

What struck me was that unity is about going the extra mile with people. It means really being there for them. Not just on social media but in the street, in our churches, on our pew, in our workplace. Do we really connect with people? Are we willing to? That is the main point: Are we willing to? 

A friend was sick recently. On her way home she couldn't help herself and found that she was vomiting on the path. She was ill, in pain and in tears. She had no tissues, she felt weak and she was judged. No-one helped her. Not one person. Put yourself in her shoes. How would you feel? 

Recently, I have been reflecting with friends that I find it hard to pray for myself. They have said something similar. However, we do feel we can and do pray for one another. It is these prayers we feel we see answered, not all in the way we would like. Hearing this sermon in our college communion made me think that this was even more the case. Where are we more vulnerable than in our prayer life? We have dreams, ambitions, hopes which we can share with God. We have frustrations, anger, despair which we can yell at God. We have tears, laughter, dancing, which we can pour out to God. On our own with our creator, loving father, saviour, comforter, this is just between Him and ourselves. Living in unity with others means sharing all of these, and more, with those we are in community with. This is the hard part. This is the true depth of who you are. This is what we are praying for where we are praying for unity. Are we willing to embrace this? 

We do embrace this at Cranmer Hall. Well, I know some of us do. However, do we make time to go deeper together? 

This is my challenge this week. Are you willing to make it yours? 



Pray God opens your eyes to where He has people He wants you to truly connect with and why. 



What do you think about what I have written? Write a comment and let me know. 

Easter Saturday Disciples

As I sat writing a tweet for the hashtag EasterMeans on twitter. I found myself writing: #EasterMeans expectant, prayerful reflection on this Holy Saturday as we wait for Sunday....

As I wrote this several questions streamed through my head, including 'Isn't this where we are at always, as post-resurrection, Christians? Ok, not exactly in the Saturday unknown state, as we know Christ rose again from the dead. But in a very similar place. 

We Christians, alive now, have not seen Christ in human form but still we are waiting in an expectant, prayerful state (at least we should be) for the second coming of Christ. We have, like the disciples had, been told how this might occur but we do not know the exact details. Rather we are waiting in eager anticipation for what might occur. What is more, we have only been told of and read about what came before. The wonders and miracles we experience are gifts from the Holy Spirit, we have not witnessed the Son of God preform them, although we do have the joy of connectedness to God through His dwelling in us through His Holy Spirit. 

In many ways we are the Holy Saturday disciples. Watching, waiting and praying. However, we are not to hide ourselves away in a room for fear, doubting what God has said will happen. Certainly not this Easter, when we have the ability to share the News of what God did for us all those years ago. No, instead we should step out and tell the whole world and invite them to join us in waiting and sharing, praying and anticipating, for Christ will return. The question is; are we ready? 

  

The poor will always be with us...but surely not in the uk?!

This BBC last week showed to episodes called 'Rich, Famous and Hungry.' I was asked by a friend yesterday if I had seen it. I admitted I hadn't and he told me I should. So this morning I did. It shook me, again to the core and then I remembered a couple of weeks ago I wrote this blog but never published it, so here it is...

The disruption startled me. Barriers left lying haphazardly, pathways precarious, with boards for crossing holes. The stark baroness struck me. My heart ached. I felt love, compassion and pain. If I felt like this, how much more would the loving God of creation feel?! 

Instantly numbness and mindful distractions overcame me. A friendly face and future dreams caught my imagination. Brief bliss. 

Water mixed with cast off furniture, mud ridden driveways and barely standing walls. In contrast, a cross the road, a newly built housing estate, prim gardens and sparkling 4x4's. Extreme poverty back-to-back with wealth. 

A slum in Nairobi? No, but this is what flashed into my mind.  

Perhaps because I am meeting with dear friends who I shared existence with for a week in Nairobi, and three months in Tanzania, this morning. Or perhaps, God is opening my eyes to what surrounds me. 

This week bishops, and other church leaders, have bombarded new articles with their condemnation of the way the government is treating UK citizens. The third wealthiest country in the world has poverty, the like of which I have observed and written of above! 

Starvation, malnutrition and desolation grips our country. And the governments response? To tell the bishops to shut up and mind their own business. 

A few weeks ago I wrote an essay on how the established church has a right to speak into Parliament, where other denominations would find this difficult. I can proudly say, they have proved my argument correct this week. For once, I am incredibly pleased to be a member of the Church of England, not just any member but an ordinand training. 

Our God is a loving God. He does condemn us, but not without first trying everything He can to save us. He loves us and therefore, as a parent would try anything to help, support, nurture their child God, the ultimate parent, does ALL He can too. The problem? We like things done our way not His. 

I am one of the worse! I like things to run as my imagination dictates, how grateful I am that it doesn't. Sometimes I am not grateful. It hurts, it sucks, and I don't like it. But I know from experience God is good. 

My help and glory are in God —granite-strength and safe-harbor-God— So trust him absolutely, people; lay your lives on the line for him. God is a safe place to be. Psalm 62:7-8 MSG

'Ah yes, the never-ending, daily, sometimes minutely wrestle of 'am I being lazy/ putting this thing off or do I need to rest?' An aspect of life this illness intensifies, as it does with many things. Measured by the 'I would just love to...' Or the 'Argh I had planned that and now I can't do it!'

It feels often as though life is a forest stripped off leaves, and the only way through is to push aside bare branches which you know will scratch you, tearing gnashes through flesh, exposing your warm blood to dirt and thus disease, and yet more pain.

Still, at points I hear a bird crow or the sun breaks through and a beam temporarily overcomes my vision and I look skywards and remember there is life outside the wood. There is a God who is bigger than this current circumstance. Then I glimpse orange and white, in those brief minutes I remember I am not alone, others suffer with this too. So I find the hollow of a tree and take a seat. Nestled up against the firm trunk, chin tucked on top of my knees, arms wrapped around my legs I rest. This is my cocoon.

It may not be ideal but it as it is. I am frustrated as I would like to be able to press on. Yet I remember I can not and sometimes we are called to wrestle with ourselves, or God, before we can explore what we have discovered from our wrestling. Jacob wrestled with God and learnt. A butterfly wrestles, stretches, grows and forms in their cocoon. Without it their wings would not form in the perfect way to enable flight.

Still it is encouraging to share these wrestles with those around us and learn others are wrestling too. Thank you!'

This was a reply I posted on another blog, of an amazing Godly woman Tanya Marlow. If you haven't read her blog do, here...http://tanyamarlow.com/cocooning

I read it at a timely point in my week.

"Welcome back to Cranmer Hall. Happy New Year! Hope you have all had a good vacation."

I smiled as I gazed around the room, "Thank you Lord!"

This scenario has loitered in my mind all week. Week one of Epiphany Term, year two of ordination training. I shall not bore you will the finer details but 'hit the ground running' comes to mind. A week of highs, lows, questions, tears, laughter, doubts. Life at Theological college while training for ordination in the Church of England (Just had one of those 'oh, erm, is this really me?! fleetingly regular moments).

I thudded onto the couch, my arms aching, tears brimming, torn between sleeping and screaming. Settling instead for catching up with 'Call the Midwife' on iplayer, followed by a good chat with my mum. Sharing heart moments equally in conversation is lightening; physically, spiritually and emotionally. Still I headed to bed around 7pm exhausted, day five of the first week back.

'How did I end up feeling this exhausted already?!'

I asked myself, between tear droplets and intentional ignoring of the aches my body held on to.

I, like Tanya, face the impending daily question of am I just being lazy? Can I push through? (with hopeful joy in my voice) or Do I actually need to rest?

There is no right answer to this. There are days when pushing through, albeit more gently than I would have before, is the only answer, and I live with the consequences. If I rest it is a question of where? How suitable a place will it be and will it enable 'proper' rest? And how does one judge if they themselves are being lazy?!

There is no definitive answer. So, in the meantime, I will snuggle against my tree and cocoon, trusting in the God who loves me, is with me in this trial and is cocooning with me too.

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble..." Psalm 46:1

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble..."

In the stillness a laugh erupted from my mouth. I could not help it. There was a quick giggle from my two companions. It was funny, even in the midst of morning prayer. I believe God sees the funny side and I hope you will too. 

A few Tuesday evenings ago I sat snuggled up on the sofa, laughing at Gilmore girls and trying to finish a cross stitch I started for friends a few weeks ago, a belated 70th birthday present. 

Black. Everything went black. 

"Oh no!" We groaned in unison.

Hannah and I carefully made our way to the lounge door, discussing whether it was only the lounge where the power had tripped or the whole house. In the hall a light was on. Based on this Hannah thought it may just be the power in the lounge which has ceased. However, it was the emergency light. We definitely didn't have power. 

Standing at the bottom of the stairs Hannah yelled up to another of our housemates "Jane, have you got power?" The response was resoundly no. 

Great, just great! The three off us stood in our cramped hall and discussed what to do next. 

Being intelligent, capable women we looked at the electricity switches and tried to flick the fuse. Nothing. 

It was cold, it was dark, it was 10 o'clock at night. What were the options?!

"I could stay here, I would be ok, I have a hot water bottle." One of my housemates declared. 

"And how would you heat the water to go inside the hot water bottle?" I asked.

 It had been cold for days. Any vague heat which had once filled our home had vanished. We hadn't had heating since Thursday and although we had had fan heaters on in some of the rooms, many had not and now without any electricity heat would not be a viable option at all. 

We had two choices, curl up and share body heat or pick up the phone. I love my housemates dearly and if it had been a necessity option one was valid. However, we opted for option two. 

As a dear friend answered the phone I burst into hysterics, quickly joined by my housemates. Explaining our situation, through fits of laughter I spluttered "It's...not...funny...but..." It was ridiculous. I mean, it was 10pm on a January night, we had no hot water and not electricity the last time I was in this situation I was in Tanzania, and I expected it there! 

We were offered shelter for the evening and each dispersed to her own bedroom to pack what belongings we could remember we may need for a stay in someone else's home. 

Automatically we all found ourselves trying to switch on bedroom lights, to no avail off course. Not having a torch to hand I found myself trying to remember where I kept my belongings, sensing things by touch and smell to decipher if this item were indeed the one I wanted.   

Re-congregating in the hall, we set out in the wind and drizzle up the hill to seek warmth and lighting. 

On arriving we were welcomed by gracious friends who had organised us areas to sleep and welcomed us to use their home as long as we needed. 

Now, here we were sat the following morning, teas or juices in hand sharing in the morning office together (one if the many highlights of living with my particularly wonderful housemates!) and the psalm declares...

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble..."

In the stillness a laugh erupted from my mouth. I could not help it. There was a quick giggle from my two companions. It was funny! After our night and the unknowing of what the day would face, of when we might have working electricity and heating again, of where, how and when we were going to do the assignments we needed to do, to read this brought us joy, hope and laughter. 

Bitter sweet 2

 Living with Chronic post-viral fatigue is never easy. But throw in Christmas season, where as a trainee vicar and ministers daughter the load is slightly more. As well as buying, wrapping and exchanging presents, helping cook the Christmas dinner for all nine of us round the Christmas table, there are services beyond measure, preparing, taking and generally being there for people and 'catching up'. All which I love!! But no longer have the energy to sustain. 

This is frustrating. 

As I say, I love it all. I love baking, socialising, catching up, serving and being with people, but I can't stand around for long, I can't keep standing and sitting for songs, or if I do I don't have any energy to talk to people, or tidy up afterwards. 

But what is societies view?..... She is being lazy!! 

Argh!! I want to scream. The truth is I could do it last year, sit around and allow myself to not 'play the game' as I was sooooo poorly, but this year...well I care too much what people think is the cusp of it. I know I shouldn't but I do. On top of that I don't count my disability as giving me an excuse, but the truth is I don't want to be disabled. I want to be well. 

But if I keep convincing myself I am well I eventually hit a wall, like today. I am tired. I want to cry. My arms ache so I can barely lift them. I'm tired of being poorly and it impacting every area of my life. Praise God I have been able to do more this year but by no means can I do everything.

Sorry for the moan, that is not what I intend at all. I believe in seeing the hope in all situations and I certainly do see the hope in my own. The bible tells us 'God works everything for the good of those who love Him...' But many people forget the second half which states 'according to His will and purpose.' (Romans 8:28) You see in all things, the good and the bad God works them for good, but not the good we necessarily expect. Nor the good which we classify it as but rather as the 'good' He sees and understands. Very often this is not something we would deem as good, because as humans we have a limited view of things. However, it is what God knows and understands which dictates His actions and often we simply need to trust, even when things seem scary and out of our control. 

I wonder how Mary felt, she had been told by an angel that she would have a baby, she had remained faithful to God, so how could He, a loving generous God do this to her?! What if Joseph divorced her? That wouldn't look good!! She might never get married, what would her parents say? They would never believe her!

Now we know, in the aftermath of the story that an angel appears and tells Joseph to marry Mary but she didn't know that was going to happen, did she? And we are not given a time spectrum so it may have been when she had already started to show, at 14 in a society dependant on men for women to exist and survive, how was this a 'good' plan by God? 

And yet, now we see the bigger picture and know it was good. Because of their faith in God Mary and Joseph were entrusted with the job of rearing Jesus, God incarnate. The ultimate gift. But it is only good within God's plans and purposes and when the bigger picture is known. 

In some ways I know my fatigue is a gift from God and He is working it for good, but at present I don't see the bigger picture and in the nitty gritty of life it is difficult, but I keep trusting God. In the mean time I will share my frustrations and be real with you, because I am not called to live a dishonest life. In fact I am called to share a vulnerable one, for that is when God shines through. If there are no cracks the light can not be released!! At the same time when the cracks are revealed, it stings. Bitter sweet I once blogged and bitter sweet it remains.  

Numb?!

Numb?!

Chiming bells, candles, cinnamon smells and jiggly tunes consume us at this time of the year. Why? Simple. It's Christmas! 
"But what does that mean?"  The vicar asks for the hundredth time, and we all know it has something to do with God and Jesus. 
Yet most of us bustle around, trying to narrowly avoid each other as we dash from store to store. Parents squeal in excitement as they announce how they are off to see "Little Molly as Mary and Tom a shepherd." We may even bring ourselves to roll into church and sing a few carols but do we mean what they declare? Have we even thought about it? 
Or are we numb?! 

Last Tuesday evening I sat through a beautiful candle lit (and glow stick) carol service in Durham Cathedral and sang some well crafted carols, but did I really take stock of what I was partaking in? Or was I numb?!

How many of us watch versions of the nativity and smile at the cuteness of small children dressed up and concern ourselves with whether our little darling has remembered their lines or not, but do we ever ponder the significance of the Christmas message? 
Or are we numb?!

After all, it all seems a little strange doesn't it? Every year we spend a fortune, cook, then consume, more than we ever do at any time of the year and furthermore we dress children up in blue, white, brown, gold, red and, increasingly, orange (- chickens are making more and more of an appearance in Bethlehem these days). And why?

This thought has recently struck me. I know the nativity story inside and out; angel appears to Mary, tells her she will have a baby and he will be the saviour of the world, then the angel goes to Joseph to ensure he also knows and will still marry Mary, then they have to leave their home to go to the place of Joseph's birth, they end up having Jesus and putting Him in a manger, angels appear to shepherds who turn up to celebrate Jesus' birth, meanwhile a star has appeared in the sky and some wise people head towards Bethlehem too. Of course what the majority of nativity's fail to take account off is Herod's request for all boys under the age off two to be killed - i.e. The wise people did not turn up on the night of His birth. Also in none of the four accounts of Jesus' life is a donkey mentioned. Just saying.

Now don't get me wrong there is nothing too wrong with any of these things, I love Christmas, and do not believe in being a humbug!! But I wonder what God thinks. Does He wonder why on earth we put ourselves through this every year? Does he sit, with a bemused parent expression on His face, smiling as He watches us dash about muttering under our breaths? Does He sigh and think 'this was supposed to be so simple! Christmas is about love.' 

You might be thinking 'I know that!' True, but for whom from whom? 

Christmas is about God's love for you!! Me, the person next to you, your best friend, your parents...each and every single person. If only you had been on the earth God would have arranged Christmas the way it happened over 2,000 years ago because He LOVES YOU!!!

That's Amazing!!

Now when I stop to remember that the baby we see in the manger is the manifestation of God and His love I can't be numb. I get excited!!

This is what Christmas is about - the fact God loves me, you, us!! 

And suddenly I don't just sing another carol, I think about the one I am singing it for. The one I am thanking, of thinking me worthy enough to love in such an amazing way. And you know what? If there is nothing about the nativity story which is significant the why do we celebrate Christmas and go through this rigmarole?! 

Watching a nativity as it tells me how God sent the only gift worth receiving this Christmas I am no longer numb, are you?!