moments

Another moment of mild amusement today - was connecting to WiFi on phone and discovered someone had labelled themselves GETOFFMYWIFI.  Er, well, I was looking for mine, actually.

Just been wandering round the displays at our church this morning for our Celebration of Creativity - may post some pics at some point (now updated with a few pics - although they don't capture the feel of everything!). Looks gorgeous - amazing what people can do! Spent quite a bit of time on Thursday putting up some of my poetry which is a bit nerve racking but the overall effect is very nice indeed.  Have come home to conserve energy but would have stayed otherwise - lovely space for moments of reflection and contemplation.

Artwork from Jacqui Lea:

Feltwork from Ray Reynolds:

Display from church craft group:

Poetry wall from me(!!):

Local artists display their work:

creativity in demand...

I'm having trouble keeping everything in my head this week. I keep thinking I have loads to do and in a sense that's true, but it's do-able if I'm organised. And if  I don't forget things.  And if when I go to write down the thing I'm not supposed be forgetting I don't forget before I can find the pen / type it into my phone.

No, the photo has nothing to do with anything, and yes, you are allowed to laugh.


I had an interview on Saturday to join the editorial team at Magnet magazine, which was successful.  It's a voluntary position and will be great experience in the editing process.  After that I had a lovely lunch with two friends, which was fantastic (as shown by my previous entry!).

It was in London so in the brief window I had between interview and lunch I decided to take a stroll along Westminster Bridge, deliberately choosing to exit Westminster Tube Station under Big Ben itself (which totally awed me in my country bumpkin days!). However I only got halfway across the bridge before retreating - horizontal rain and fighting to keep my umbrella from blowing inside out while trying to avoid other people's umbrellas (who were having same problem), getting squished by tourists and utterly drenched anyway. Every time I squinted up at the Houses of Parliament I got a face full of wetness.  Clinging onto the sides of my umbrella meant the rain was also pouring down my sleeve. Glad this happened after the interview! Retreated, defeated, to Waterloo before going to lunch on the Southbank.  Tottered onto the train feeling utterly exhausted - having got up at 5.30am, as well as all the rest of it.

Anyway.  Was not going to say any of that but never mind.  Now, I have to sort out the church magazine (rather smaller, but I try to do a good job), having the youth group round tonight and also on Sunday, and preparing for our church's 'Celebration of Creativity' weekend (the one after next).  Spent all morning preparing two 'welcome' boards - as well as printing and laminating some poems to display in one of the smaller rooms.  They'll be sharing wall space with textile art from my very talented and ultra lovely friend, and I'm trying to work out the best way of displaying everything (since she is on holiday).  I need to email someone to ask for a wall hook, I need to prepare the room a little (probably this Saturday) and then sort most of it out next Thursday.  In between, I'll be putting the magazine together, chasing up articles and finding fillers as necessary.

As well as those little ordinary chores which fill up the to-do lists.

This is all aside from the day job (writing), you understand.

Still, I enjoy being creative and it all comes under that category.  Now, if I can just remember to do everything....

welcome by listening

“LISTENING is always involved in hospitality. The most gracious attempts we can muster are meaningless if we do not actually hear the stranger. Listening is the core meaning of hospitality. It is something we can give anyone and everyone, including ourselves. It takes only a few minutes to really listen…

Hospitality is a way to counter the thousands of times another human being has felt less than human because others didn’t listen. Listening is the power of hospitality; it is what makes hospitality the life-giving thing it is."

- Daniel Homan and Lonni Collins Pratt, Radical Hospitality: Benedict’s Way of Love

This is one thing that I was particularly struck by when preparing the recent service. By listening to people, we are welcoming them. Welcoming their thoughts, valuing their opinions, providing them with a safe place to speak.  Our attentiveness is a welcome of its own.

For a fuller quote see here.

welcome and welcoming

On Sunday evening, I led a service at church on the theme of Welcome. As it was dubbed 'alternative worship' I let my creative impulses take over! At the front I had the communion table, with an array of cupcakes and the word 'welcome' stretched across the front. Around the church were several 'welcome stations' - using words and images to think and reflect upon the theme of welcome, being welcomed and being welcoming! These included photos, bible verses, quotes and poetry.  Some were displayed using digital scrapbooking software to frame them nicely.

The stations themselves were mainly decorated noticeboards with space around them, although at one 'station' I had pieces of paper where people could write down the things that made them feel welcome. There was also a big pile of bean bags in one corner, as well as a couple of little tables next to certain noticeboards with a vase of flowers, an open bible and a small wooden cross.

The idea was that people should feel welcome right there and then as well as reflecting on the theme in general. So as well as using liturgy, scripture and song we had some music playing in the background in the middle, where people could wander around the welcome 'stations', have a cupcake (!) or simply sit and reflect as they desired.

It was a good turn out for an evening service and as I began the service I noticed a couple of new faces.  One thing I had kept on imagining during my preparations was the possibility of someone walking in during the service.  Rather bemused, I prayed for this 'hypothetical' person during my preparations.  Imagine my quiet delight when someone did walk in during the service and was made to feel very welcome!

As usual there are things I wish I'd done differently but overall I think it went well and people were able to have space and time to feel welcome and reflect on the wider theme of hospitality, asking questions like 'what makes you feel welcome?', 'who are those who are made to feel unwelcome?' and 'how can we be more welcoming?'  I deliberately kept these questions broad - so that they encompassed areas of church, society, family, friends and communities, so that whatever their background, people would be able to think about these things.

I may, if I get the chance, post some of the quotes and resources I used as separate blog posts.  We're having some time off shortly and I deliberately won't be online much, but if I have time (!) I will schedule some posts!

Half the Church by Carolyn Custis James: book review and giveaway

I was pleased when Zondervan contacted me about participating in a 'blog tour' for a book they were 'very excited about'.  I was even more pleased once I looked it up and saw that it might be something I'd be interested in.

So, what do I think now that I have read the book?

The first thing that struck me about this book was the inclusivity of its style.  Despite being written by an American author from within her own church context, James makes very clear from the beginning that the subtitle of this book is indeed a true reflection of its purpose: recapturing God's global vision for women.  At no point did I feel on the outside looking in.

She emphasises that within our context of freedom and plenty, some questions and discussions we tend to have about women and their roles here in the West are simply not applicable for women in different cultures and environments, lacking our resources and our choices.  But instead of shuffling past them and focusing on 'us' she chooses to take a fuller, more compassionate view, recognising women's importance throughout the world and what we can do to help those who have so much less than we do.  Indeed, the extremes throughout the world put our church debates in sobering perspective.

Part of this book springs out of her own reading of Half the Sky*, a book chronicling some of the horrors experienced by women and girls in today's world.  James constantly refers to some appalling stories of women and girls facing terrible choices -  or more accurately, no choice at all.

I warmed to her as it became clear that she was passionate about the plight of women throughout the world, those without any opportunities, those closed in by poverty and those subjected to abuse.  Her concern was not preoccupied by the insulated West.  One statistic she quoted I could not really get my head round: 

"It appears that more girls have been killed in the last fifty years, precisely because they were girls, than men were killed in all the wars of the twentieth century.  More girls are killed in this routine 'gendercide' in any one decade than people were slaughtered in all the genocides of the twentieth century."

 Nicholas D. Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn, Half the Sky, as quoted in Half the Church (emphasis mine).

But James' vision is wider than sharing with her readers the awful treatment of some of the world's daughters.  In effect, she contrasts this treatment with what she sees as the biblical picture of women: God's image bearers, equipped to lead by the mandate of Genesis 1.

James makes a lot of reference to the ezer of Genesis 2 - ezer-kenegdo being the phrase often translated a 'suitable helper' when referring to God's purpose in creating woman.   James ties this in with other uses of 'ezer' as a kind of warrior - sometimes used to refer to God himself as shield and helper.  Without a grasp of Hebrew I feel unable to critique this -  but it is certainly an interesting suggestion, and a recurring theme throughout the book.

I loved the way James' focuses on women's primary calling - to love the Lord our God with all our soul, mind, heart and strength.  I also deeply appreciated, that while identifying marriage and motherhood as very important callings, she emphasises that they are not what makes up our identity.  She talked about many women feeling they cannot start living their calling until they are married / have children - and I strongly agree that this is a negative thing we need to shake off  (for men too, I feel).  Our worth is not found in marriage and motherhood, as beautiful as these things are.  There are so many who do not fit that 'template', and I for one have always felt irritated by the common cultural assumption that we are 'incomplete' until we find the 'one' or experience parenthood.   It isolates and excludes a huge amount of people, and makes us feel somehow 'lesser' if we never reach these supposed ideals.

She underlines this further when talking about the 'Blessed Alliance' - which is how she refers to the relationship between man and woman.  And - wonderfully - she is not confining this to marriage but to male-female relationships in general - Christian women working with their brothers, their friends, to show God's image to the world and share the power of the gospel - together.  Is it me, or is so little talked about platonic or familial male-female relationships?

These are the two 'load bearing' pillars of the image bearers - our relationship with God, and the relationships between us.  Within the story of Genesis 3, both of these pillars are broken down - but in Christ they are restored.  This book contains no rants or diatribes, but shows a genuine longing for renewed and loving relationships between the genders.  It talks about the value men and women have as part of the body of Christ - and if half the body is not encouraged to use its gifts, then we are all weakened.  We bless each other by our gifts.  Men and women are not two 'halves' of an image bearer but each is one, and in Trinitarian likeness, one plus one = one.  We are called to that kind of oneness.

James does take a chapter to address what she calls the 'Big Debate' over the role of women in the church, and has some helpful things to say.  She reiterates what I've heard elsewhere - you cannot build an entire theology on disputable texts.  You have to examine what is indisputable  and go from there.  And in this way she looks at some examples of women in the bible and what she feels they tell us about our role as image bearers.  I love the way she avoids getting embroiled in specific issues and instead keeps her focus.

In today's world, we have so much more awareness of what is happening around the globe to those created in God's image.  And, James enthuses, it's our calling to make a difference.

May we be remembered as a generation who caught God's vision, faced our fears, and rose up to serve his cause. - Carolyn Custis James, Half the Church

Much of this book I am still digesting.  Naturally there will be elements people will disagree with - but I think it a very worthwhile read, whatever your viewpoint.  I suspect there will be those who come from different contexts and don't recognise some of the issues she talks about, or have trouble with her frame of reference.  I, however, found it helpful and interesting.

On a personal level, on finishing this book I feel incredibly encouraged - about being a woman.  I've never actually confessed to feeling discouraged, but it is true.  Something about this book drove right through that discouragement, knocked it all to pieces and made me feel differently about myself.   It's given me the courage to step over something I had been deliberately ignoring and find a sudden sense of freedom and purpose.

I hesitate to use the word, because it feels a bit heavy with association and liable to be misconstrued but I feel, in this case, it is worth saying.

I feel empowered by this book.

And the fact I feel able to use that word says something in itself.

*The title 'Half the Sky' is based on the proverb 'Women hold up half the sky'.

***

Giveaway
Yes, Zondervan sent me an extra copy of this book - if you want to be entered for the giveaway please leave a comment on this post telling me why you'd like to have this book.  If it's too hard to choose, I will use a random number generator, but I think it would be great if we shared our thoughts anyway.  Comments must be posted by Wednesday 13th April. Giveaway is now closed - congratulations Red!

I received this book free from Zondervan for the purpose of reviewing. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.  You can find a list of other reviews here.

Contemporvant Growtivation

Couldn't quite work out whether to laugh at this or cover my eyes.  Apologies if this makes some of you squirm or frown!




Found via Facebook friends, via their friends, via their friends (etc)

Later: apparently this video is no longer accessible - please let me know if you find it working elsewhere!

choosing to lift my hands

Sometimes it hurts to lift my hands. Not necessarily from great pain or grief, although certainly there have been times when that was true. Often they are simply tired or heavy. Today my arms are physically aching, but I chose to lift them anyway.

Pondering the nature of worship, I reflected that so often we are tempted to  express ourselves in these outstretched, visible ways only when we have already received: when we are feeling.  Our praise becomes our response to that feeling.


But today I lifted my hands not because I felt like it, or even because I wanted to feel like it, but because I wanted to show my determination to worship despite my physical and mental tiredness. I chose to use my arms to praise. I chose to lift my hands.

I wanted to express a dedication within my limitations, or perhaps beyond them - to say - this is what I ascribe to, this is the person to whom I ascribe greatness, the one who does not change in spite of my vulnerability, my changing emotions, my body - which does not recover as well as I would often wish it.

Does this make my worship less heartfelt?  I do not believe so.  I do not lift my hands because I think I should, or because I want other people to notice.  I do not lift my hands to make myself look spiritual or as a reflex reaction.  I do not lift my hands as if it were a mere accompaniment to worship.  I lift my hands because I recognise the worth of the one who I follow and worship.  I want to say 'yes, you are worthy of my praise', even when my legs are wobbly and my shoulders knotty.

Sometimes it hurts to lift my hands, but I choose to anyway.

part three of a personal story: new horizons

My experience of other traditions and denominations was widened further when I made a decision that would change my life, in many ways.  I applied to study at what was then London Bible College, now London School of Theology (one of my favourite places in the world).  The story of that decision is an important one, but I won't go into it here - perhaps I will tell it another time, if people are interested.  Let's just say it was made very clear that this was the next step on my journey.  (Very rarely have I ever known anything beyond 'the next step'.)

LBC/LST is an inter-denominational evangelical theological college, thus attracting students from all traditions and cultures.  It was a time of incredible growth for me - in knowledge, in faith, in friendships - and also a time of great challenge, being stretched and at times disassembled, but all the while knowing I was in a safe place.  My passion for Christian unity did not lessen, although it was so much a part of life I rarely thought about it in a very defined way - constantly in conversation and community with those of different traditions meant it was a very practical, very immediate, fact of where I was.  And it delighted me.

It was also where I started getting an inkling that I may, in some way, be going to be involved with those in the Baptist tradition.  I came aware from one chapel service with the odd sensation that in some way I would eventually be connected with Baptist ministry,of all things, but I really didn't know how!

Then I met my future husband, who, I discovered in the course of our new relationship, felt called to Baptist Ministry.  I remember quite clearly deciding perhaps I should know more about this, and picking up a book about Baptist theology.  It was extraordinary.  But...but this is what I think, about so many things.  It wasn't where I'd started, but I felt I had come home.

And now, here I am, she who hates labels but who will, on very special occasions, call herself a Baptist. Because this is where God has put me and where he has led me.  For a while I worked for our regional association in an admin position, which I loved - churches working together!  The Baptist church is so diverse in its congregations, styles and opinions.  Within this medley, I have found my place.

Here in this place, I am still keen to keep on working with other traditions, to work within our agreements and accept the fact of our disagreements, to rid people of their prejudices against each other, to find a way of working together for the good of our communities and our world.  To exercise friendship, respect and tactfulness.  To pray together, seek God together, express our longings together.

To bring together the pieces of the broken sword not in a way that forces people into one mould (the pieces are different shapes, after all) but that expresses the love of God in a dynamic, beautiful way.

To be the church in all her pieces, in all her humanness.

A body of many parts.

The body of Christ.



This is the third part of a personal story, which I have been inspired to share during the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity.  Links to the previous posts:

Part One - the broken sword
Part Two - under the waves

part two of a personal story: under the waves

My nose was baptised a fraction after the rest of me.  A fleeting moment passed as I was aware that the tip of my nose was above water, and then I was lowered just a bit further before coming up out of the waves.

I received infant baptism as a baby and was later confirmed, both  in the Church of England.  So how did I get here, on a pebbled beach beneath a sign which proclaimed loudly and cheerfully 'BAPTISM HERE' just days after my 18th birthday?

I had no problem accepting that infant baptism and confirmation could be seen as a theological equivalent to believers' baptism (and I know that the Holy Spirit and the act of laying on of hands is important in confirmation, too).  I did not discriminate in any negative way on those grounds. I still do not, although I am a proponent of believers' baptism in my personal theology. I was at sixth form college at the time, where I had made more friends and some of them were Christians, from various traditions and backgrounds. My decision to be baptised by total immersion was more of a personal decision than a theological one, yet it was act of obedience, just the same.

I didn't see a particular need for being baptised, having been sprinkled with water as an infant and confirmed when I was 14. I knew that for my parents the former was an act of dedication; they did not believe infant baptism made me a Christian.  My confirmation was where I made those promises for myself.  I must confess, however, to feeling a little sad not to have consciously participated in the symbolism evoked by the water. I say 'consciously' - I was conscious, but I cannot remember it, for obvious reasons!

The decision I made started with a niggling.  I kept coming across things about baptism and it kept on...niggling at me. I was rather surprised by this niggle.  I wasn't entirely clear what to do with it.  Gradually it grew stronger and stronger until it became clear that there was someone behind it.  I didn't know what to do.  In the end, I talked to my mother, who was supportive - I knew she would be.  I confessed the need to have company in this - someone to be baptised with  me.  So we prayed together that evening that if God truly did want me to be baptised by total immersion, there would someone who would accompany me in the whole experience.

That week I walked into my sixth form college where one of my friends was sitting in a chair, beaming.  'I'm getting baptised!'  She told me, jubilantly.  It still makes me smile, even now.  Any doubt was erased by delight.

My friend had a Methodist background and she too had taken the same steps as me.  Neither of our churches having such a thing as a baptistry, we chose neutral ground.  Well, more accurately, we chose the sea.  We were baptised by the chaplain of our college, himself an Anglican and incredibly helpful and understanding of our wishes. In the end, the service was called 're-affirmation of baptismal vows by total immersion', which seemed to cover things.  The words were the same - baptised in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we made our personal vows to follow Jesus and acknowledge him as Lord of our lives. We knew there were some who still wouldn't understand, but we desperately wanted to do it.

So surrounded by friends and family from various denominations, plus some holidaymakers who asked to watch (my response: of course!), we entered the water.

Before we were baptised, the two of us prayed together. I knew then that for me, this was the decision.  I'd already come to faith, I'd already made various commitments on my journey, but this, I had decided, was for life.  There was no going back for me, not after this.  In enacting the dying (going  under) and the rising to new life (coming up) I was displaying my decision.  Jesus was not only my Saviour, he was my Lord.  In a sense, I visibly signed over the ownership of my heart that day.  I quivered with the intensity of my decision.

I did not know then that in later times, when my faith was all but broken and darkness swarmed over me, how much those promises made in the water would hold me fast.  I didn't know how much I would need that memory. How often, when doubt and grief and chaos flooded my mind, I would recall those prayers we said amid the pebbles, and the promises we made before we went under the waves.  How I would fiercely hold onto that symbolic decision when everything else was pulling me away from it.  How much I would thank God, with all my heart, that he had niggled me into it.

Neither did I know that I would end up in a church which came with a baptistry.

All I knew was: this is my vow.  This is my holy ground, where I take off my shoes.  This is my response to that niggle which became a call.



To be continued...again.

part one of a personal story: the broken sword

I intimated in Tuesday's post that there was a personal element to my longing to see Christians working together.  I'll try and encapsulate it a bit here - but please remember this is my personal experience.  You are welcome to take it or leave it.  Neither is this my Christian testimony about my coming to faith in God, but it does talk a bit about how I have interacted with his people - his church.

As a child I attended an Anglican church - it was a very 'low' kind of Anglicanism, not that I knew much about the differences at the time. Years later I discovered certain kinds of incense made me cough and splutter, so perhaps it was just as well!  I went to church with my parents, and for reasons I won't go into here, also spent a couple of years in a Pentecostal Assemblies of God congregation, and then another charismatic Anglican church before returning, for the majority of my teens, to the original Anglican church where I had begun.

We've touched on the fact I'm not keen on labels (see here), and as a teenager I was very prickly about denominationalism.  I would quite firmly say 'I am a Christian,' beyond that, I was determined not to be boxed.  I knew there were aspects of Anglican tradition that didn't match my own slowly forming theology, nevertheless I loved the people within - and the church is the people, after all - and I wanted to be where God put me.  I also wanted to ditch the labels.

All this makes me sound very firm in my opinions, but I should explain a little more about teenage Lucy-ness.  I stumbled through my teens on a tide of feeling - feeling that I did not know how to express, and longing to know and understand more and more.  But I struggled to put myself into words, and when I sincerely tried, my contemporaries looked at me somewhat oddly - who thinks that much about life?!  I suffered from an innate shyness which coupled with this desperation to express and understand generally left me muddled and exhausted.  It was nobody's fault.  I was just becoming me, in my own teenage way.

As I became more anxious about sharing my heart, so full of feeling, I began to hide behind a mask of a manically overdone version of my natural silly streak.  I consider my silly streak a very healthy and necessary thing, but at this time, it was something I hid behind, because I did not know how to contribute to conversation.  I did not know how to be me, because I did not know then who on earth 'me' was.   This mask wasn't always appropriate, so sometimes I would simply remain quiet, at one point reduced to nauseating panic attacks - coping with sheer depth of feeling and self-consciousness and tiredness.  My body, frustratingly, would not keep itself distinct from my emotions, and thus when I was a nervous wreck, I really was a nervous wreck. (Of course this is a generalisation.  I did have my sane moments!)

Only relatively recently have I been able to look back at that other me and smile benignly, no longer clutched by scorching embarrassment.  She's still with me - not all of it was hormones - but blended in with later experiences and, well, growing up.  Anyway, you get the picture. I felt things very deeply indeed - and not just for myself; I could be assailed with chokingly powerful compassion, which alas was so powerful I was yet again rendered speechless and unable to show it to the person concerned.

Within my passionate nature, I had a longing for God.  I was incredibly sincere in my faith and thrived on seeking understanding.  I also had a passion for Christian unity. I looked at division and it hurt. Once, the young people were holding a service as an alternative to Hallowe'en.  The idea was that it was open to other churches in the area and I took this very seriously indeed.  One of my most vivid memories is of lying in my bed praying furiously for this service.  And lying back, rendered mute, an image flashed into to my mind.

I can still recall my feeling of astonishment.  This is not a way that God often speaks to me, so to suddenly have a 'picture' come out of nowhere was startling.  And perplexing.

It was a broken sword.  I don't mean a sword merely seared in two but splintered, fragments of it lying about - big, small, shiny, rusty.  Baffled, I asked immediately: 'what does it mean?'

The answer came back, startlingly clear and swift. 'This is my church.'

(Now. Some of you will say 'it was all in your head'.  Some of you won't like the image of weaponry.   I understand that.  I'm just telling the story.)

Gradually, the threads of meaning layered in my mind.  A shattered sword is no good for its purpose. It is ineffectual.  What good is a sword that lies in pieces?  But put those pieces back together and what do you have?  A powerful weapon.  One that can stand against injustice.  One that can defend the weak and poor. One that can make a difference.

It's an analogy.  It's an analogy that went straight to my heart.

To be continued...

unity on a Tuesday

Today sees the start of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity 2011. I'm not sure why it starts on a Tuesday.  Why does it start on a Tuesday?

Anyway (such a useful word).

This is an issue I have long been interested in and even passionate about - although I confess I find words like 'ecumenism' heavy in today's world (I believe the Greek word from which it comes means 'the whole known world' - I'll have to investigate more on that.). I like talking about co-operation, discussion, sharing ideas and sharing resources.

At our church on Sunday evening we had a cafe style discussion evening talking about 'Christians United'.  Most of the time was spent in group discussion, with no shortage of things to say. Many of us had backgrounds which were denominationally diverse, and the overall feeling of the evening was positive, recognising that we are all made in God's likeness and that working together in the name of Christ was a good thing.

Of course there are always things that baffle one group about another. What is highly symbolic in one tradition seems a nonsense to another - the associations simply aren't there. Once explained, we still may not agree, but at least a level of understanding has been reached.

What I believe is so important is a willingness to talk, and keep talking, and to do so in a way that is genuinely loving and constructive. Unfortunately the phrase 'speak the truth in love' has become so well known that sometimes it is used as a get out clause for any behaviour - 'may I speak the truth in love?'  You may, but will you?  Really?

Of course, blogs are great vehicles for such communication - as long as love, respect and humility still apply.

Sometimes there are areas of such firm disagreement that a kind of stalemate is reached and recognised.  Then it's a matter of looking at areas of commonality and finding that tiny chink where you can work together.  You may not feel able to worship together in a church context, but what's stopping you picking up litter and demonstrating a united concern for your community?  It's just one part of our witness to those around us.

Unfortunately sometimes the stalemates lead to visible enmity within Christ's church.  This, I find heartbreaking.  By this I mean actual nastiness, which is totally contrary to our imitating Christ.  There will be frustration and exasperation, as there is in any disagreement - particularly when it comes to interpreting what God wants of us.  Sometimes this will mean walking away from each other and taking a breath.  Sometimes we will feel genuine grief over another's point of view.  We may feel a surge of deep disappointment when we discover their opinion - on something terribly important to us - is the complete opposite to ours.

By no means is it easy, and a willingness to talk openly and lovingly, recognising a mutual desire to do what is pleasing in God's eyes, is essential.  It's also an individual choice, which is where things can get mucky, because for a genuine debate to occur in a healthy framework, there needs to be some mutual agreement as to how we will treat each other when we disagree, what attitude we will choose to embody in those moments.

Perhaps I'll look at some of these aspects in further detail at some point, as I realise I'm skipping about as I introduce the topic.

Some of these are thoughts that arose out of our discussion, some are my own.  But they don't truly explain my interest in the issue. For that, I'll have to tell you a little about my personal journey within the Christian church...watch this space for more thoughts on Christian unity this week.

Join Churches Together Connect

Image: original source unknown

blogging, gender and Christianity (part 2)

Firstly, I'd like to say a few things about me.

I keep a blog.  This much is obvious.


I am a Christian.  The fact that I use this term to explain my belief and chosen lifestyle instead of merely as a label, is also fairly clear to readers of this blog.


I live in the United Kingdom.


I am married to a church minister.


My husband is a minister in a UK Baptist church.  I, too, have found my theological 'home' in the Baptist way of looking at things.


I have a degree in theology, and this is a continuing interest.  I have always longed to think and explore faith, life and meaning more deeply.  (This is part of the purpose of this blog, in case you hadn't guessed.)


I am hopelessly forgetful, so in order to remember all the things I learn I have to keep thinking about them.  My life needs regular littering with reminders.


I am a writer.


I struggle with Chronic Fatigue/ M.E., which impacts my way of life.


I have a variety of hobbies and interests, most of which fit loosely under the topics of expressing my creativity and exploring/enjoying the natural world.  Most, not all.


Is this the sum of my parts?  By no means.  This tells you nothing about what I'm like to talk to, my mannerisms, my views on specific subjects.  There is much, much more to me.


And amid all this, I am also a woman.

I've already stated in my previous entry that gender isn't something I'm particularly concerned with when reading blogs. If I'm honest, any disparity hadn't really occurred to me.  I think that we all have certain issues which act as triggers for thought and feeling.  I have not had any particularly painful discriminatory experiences as a woman, so I'm probably less personally sensitive to it.  (Although I still remember the shock and hurt of reading what some of the 'Church Fathers' have to say about women!) What I am sensitive to is being pigeon-holed and labelled.

Why?  It's probably partially the health thing.  I used to hate being known for being the one who was 'ill'.  I've carried that sensitivity through with me.  That, I admit.  So it will colour the way I look at things. I think if this post had another title, it would be 'Know Yourself' - but more than that, knowing that what is not an issue for you is  an issue for others, respecting that and listening to them in order to understand their point of view.

So when we talk about something that constitutes one of my parts - be it health concerns, or indeed womanhood, I am quickly wary of labels.  The fact is, I don't want to make a big thing of it.  Making a big thing of it, for me, involves a kind of isolation.  You take the 'thing', the 'label' and suddenly the whole broad sweep of things gets lost.  I'm going to have to say it, although I hate cliches (interesting) - you can't see the wood for the trees.

For me, singling out women implies that they are an issue.  A problem.  Not simply one part of this weird and wonderful thing called humanity.  A humanity that together reflects the likeness of God.  And a faith that says we are all one in Christ Jesus.  (Remember - this is my perception, my explanation of what I struggle with.  I'm claiming nothing else.)

So why, I hear you ask, am I even posting about this?  Well, there was a conversation going on.  I listened to a few people.   I like discussing things, so I joined in.  It really is that simple.  I've learned enough about myself to know what my sensitivities are, and this takes away some of their power.  Therefore  I join the conversation out of interest, out of a joy of interacting, of thinking and chewing over an issue.  Of, yes that's right, looking deeper.  This is not a big issue for me, but it is a big issue for some.  Out of interest in and respect for their point of view, I am adding my voice.  There's no obligation to listen, of course!

I should add that  in no way am I saying that this is merely about personal sensitivity to an issue.   There do seem to be less women in the UK blogging about Christianity than men, and it's good to point this out and ask why.  I would love to read more blogs by women reflecting deeply on their faith and theology.  It's been great to discover new ones during this discussion.  Here, however, I'm merely bouncing my own thoughts around on my own blog.

Now, again there are various tangents and topics that skim through my mind.  I do still want to talk about denominations, because one thing I have noticed about the UK Christian blogosphere is that bloggers tend to 'cluster' in their denominations.  This, to an extent, is inevitable.  All these threads of commonality, be it gender, profession or belief will naturally cultivate certain groupings.  Humans, after all, have a tendency to congregate.  Coincidentally, tomorrow marks the start of the 'Week of Prayer for Christian Unity'.  So perhaps I'll do a separate post about that later in the week.  But what I would like to see is more crossover between blogs of different denominations, celebrating that which we have in common, explaining our differences and doing so with gentleness and respect.  More on that, later.

I also want to look at the nature of Christian blogs, because I wonder if the issue is not so much about UK women bloggers who are Christian but those who blog particularly about Christianity,  theological reflection, or church ministry.  Because the latter is far more specific, and it may be that there are plenty of UK Christian women bloggers, but just not so many who use their blogs as a place for theological reflection.  They have other topics that they choose to blog about..

Which takes me into the area of the purpose of blogging, audience and all kinds of things that would make this post too long.  But my point, if I have a point, is that there are so many factors.  It's interesting to me to dig a bit deeper and find out what they are.

Image from vectorstock.com

pausing in the sea of writing...to write something else

Today I am going over all my current writing projects, adjusting, proofreading and updating them. It's nice to get into it again after a busy weekend.  Preaching on Sunday morning seemed to go well, at least the responses I had were positive.  I enjoyed it because my own preparation fuelled excitement about the topic - Jesus before all things, and as always the exercise means that I learn myself, encouraging myself to think deeply and ponder hard on the nature of God and his role in my life.

What amuses me is that we all pull some very frowny faces when we listen to a speaker.  I'm quite sure I do it myself. The speaker has to remember that, otherwise s/he can get a little bit anxious about how it's all being received!  I always try and identify myself with my listeners, as I consider myself a constant learner in life, and hardly feel able to tell people what they should think or do.  Instead I try and show what I would like to be and show in my life, and try and take them with me.

Right.  Back to work.  Or possibly lunch, looking at the clock...

a hint of the coming season

This morning, I heard spring.  I was placing a book on a shelf and heard the cheep of sparrows.  At the same time, a shaft of sunlight touched my cheek.  I don't what it was - the timbre of the sound, the softness of the air, but I felt a thrill of recognition.  Birds sing and cheep all through winter in our garden, but it felt different.  The bathroom window was wide open as I'd been cleaning; the breeze that drifted through held the promise of a whole new season.  It's only February, but today I heard spring.  I remembered what it felt like - the balm of the sunshine, the joy of the birds, the gentleness of the breeze.  I remembered that over the next few weeks, a change will take place.

On a somewhat more trivial level, it's still mucus manor in my neck of the woods, but I'm now on antibiotics.  Hopefully it will start clearing up in the next few days.  The congestion I can cope with, irritating as it is; it's that awful stinging pain that makes it so difficult.  Bending over to clean the bath this morning was excruciating.

I'm working on various bits of writing, at least as much as I can with my aching head and stinging face; this coming weekend I'm also leading the evening service (Communion & Healing) at church.  It's been a little while but I'm praying God will use my weakness (and weary sinuses!!) to be a blessing.

Yes I know it says 2009 on the photograph...the 2010 crocuses are yet to come!

"what am I doing here?"

Yesterday afternoon some of us went out to a care home to lead a service there.  It felt good to get out in the community and do something like that; church in action as opposed to within the same four walls.  I'm keen to be involved. The service was appreciated and it was good to see some of the residents humming and smiling.  Many of them suffer from dementia type illnesses, and you can see the confusion frequently pass across their faces.

One lady I spoke to afterwards was very distressed. 'What am I doing here?' she asked me.  'How did I get here?  Why aren't I at home?  I don't know anyone in this room.'  Trying to be soothing and distracting her with cheerful remarks only worked for so long; in the end I was rendered mute by the fear and panic on her face.  'Can you tell me where I'm going?' she asked me pointedly and repeatedly.  In the end I led her to one of the carers, as they would know where she would normally be as far as the home was concerned, although I felt inadequate to answer a question that had no appropriate response.  She needed a response, even if it was just leading her across the room. I was struck mostly by the fear created by her illness - more than mere confusion, panic widened her eyes, and I ached for the terror she was feeling.

Lord, remember those who can't remember themselves,
who do not understand why they are where they are
who cannot be comforted as the answer lies
in something entirely forgotten.
Help us be comforters; help us show your peace,
despite not knowing the answers,
may we soothe their fear with your perfect love.

fire!

It’s Pentecost Sunday and we did something rather different in the service this morning. We are required to have a fire drill in the building once a year, so Andy and Rob incorporated it into the service. Andy was reading the passage from Acts where it talks about the rushing wind and tongues of fire – and then the alarm sounded, so everyone had to get up and troop outside. Very effective, and made me smile, too!



I should say here that Mrs M has also awarded me the Kreativ Blogger award in her recent post, so thank you Mrs M!

I have also been awarded the Lemonade Stand, or ‘Attitude of Gratitude’ award by two bloggers, Sarah in the Woods, and Kathryn – thank you so much! It’s taken a while for me to officially accept the award – how ironic if I forgot to thank them for their ‘gratitude’ award! I will try and update this post at some point with bloggers who I feel deserve this award (pictured).

The sunshine continues…

spring Sunday

According to my Dairy Diary (which my mum gets from the milkman each year!), spring officially starts on Friday (20th). But it's already here in our garden:




Thought I would share some of the photos I took in the garden during the week:


Chionodoxa flowering happily

Crocus peeping out the side of the strawberry pot (which I've never used for strawberries!)
First aubretia of the year to open out its little petals

and of course, the golden daffodil glowing in the sunshine

Am going to the evening service today as we had a church quiz last night and I don't cope well with an evening event followed by an event next morning. Spent most of yesterday afternoon agonising over whether to go or not. Was rather low yesterday (thanks for the encouraging comments on my last post, guys - much appreciated) and very tired, but in the end I did go. Was the right thing to do - despite physical exhaustion, I needed somewhere to go and be instead of being left at home feeling as I was.

Our team actually won. I'm not great at general knowledge and completely phased out during the sports section (miraculously, I did know one) and concentrated on the dingbats we'd been given. (Did get rather over-excited during the movie quotes, however!) Andy is very good at retaining facts and accessing them quickly. I learn things well but if I don't use the knowledge enough, it slips away.

Talking of facts, I'll try and post the answers to true or false? tomorrow or Tuesday. In the meantime, you can still join in!

In this stretch of Lent before Easter, I hope to post some more serious thoughts I've been having at this time. I should get a wriggle on; it's less than a month away...

Have a blessed Sunday.

"...the LORD, my God, lights up my darkness." ~ Psalm 18:28

Today: 4/10, medium

fogginess in the joint.....!

To post or not to post? Am somewhat foggy headed so you may have to be the judge(s)! My tiredness may make this joint a touch disposted. Did I really just type that?? (Actually, I also accidentally typed 'type' as 'time' and then nudged the caps lock...have amended those errors, at least). From the top: My tiredness may make this post a touch disjointed.

A little rundown on life:

Saturday was the day we held our service for the induction of Ruth, our new minister, and also celebrated the official "opening" of our newly revamped church buildings. It was a really positive day, and very uplifting. It seemed especially poignant knowing that all that our church has been through these past few years - 'tempest tossed' would certainly be the word for it.

As I was listening to the speaker he touched on the idea that quite apart from being a shadow of what we were, as in the phrase used usually about the elderly or sick, we are in actuality a shadow of what we will be. This lovely phrase gave me an emotional few seconds...

Am in process of writing up a talk I am giving to our church's ladies' group on Thursday. It is, broadly, about hope. Hopefully (no pun intended) I will get my words out in the right order....

Today:3/10, medium
Last few days: 4/10, medium - high (ish)

counting down

Phew. Have not been writing much, due to simple exhaustion I think! Sunday was a very busy day, we had the nativity in the morning service, then we were out for lunch (v nice) and then we had the carols by candlelight service in the evening.

The nativity went very well, with a couple of minor comedy moments (but no one got stepped on, thank goodness). In the last song the shepherds were meant to clap and dance around, but only one actually did so. He did it with gusto, bless him, and it was wonderful to watch. Then at the final chord, one of the others spontaneously threw his soft toy sheep into the air, which caused a great deal of mirth, not least from his mother, who was sitting next to me. (Thank goodness they didn't throw baby Jesus.) Herod, by the way, did not look even slightly like Dracula - so that I'd completely forgotten it had even been mentioned!! He did sport a rather fetching black wool beard.

I read a poem at the Carols by Candlelight service, at the beginning - I could relax and enjoy the rest of the service. I was utterly drained by the end however, and was simply unable to go round chatting to visitors, which made me feel a little dejected, but still it was a long day for me - considering what I am used to. Had to try and reign in any frustration and sadness, knowing that the overwhelming tiredness itself would not help any rationalising that was needed.

Have just come back from having a blood test - what fun. Had to go to doctor's last week in my usual 'have you still got the headache?' - 'Yes' scenario. Mentioned my rapid heart rate and she wants to check my thyroid although of course this has been checked before (is there anything they haven't tested me for?!). I've actually twice been sent for an ECG but because of the procedure they don't think a fast rate is notable - most people are nervous / embarrassed anyway. So all that has established is that I don't have an irregular heartbeat. But still it thunders on. I've been pondering if it has anything to do with the levels of adrenalin and the body's stress response, which I've been learning about as part of the programme (see here).

Meanwhile, Christmas is on the doorstep. If I don't write anymore for a while, I'll take the opportunity to wish you a very happy, blessed Christmas and a wonderful new year. May we all have the moments we need in order to truly appreciate the season...

Today, and most days: 3-4/10, medium -high

recent events

I have just walked face on into a cobweb on my way round to the bins at the side of the house. Andy had warned me about this; the diligent spider re-spins its web as soon as it has been destroyed, and the giant masterpiece stretches right across the path. Since I have not walked to the bins from the front way for a while (and if I did, Andy has recently gone round before me, presumably meeting a cobwebby fate) I was not at all prepared and had the strange sensation of walking straight into it. I'm not clear where the spider went - and although I'm not bothered by spiders minding their own business, the idea that it went somewhere on my person is a little disconcerting.

Um, yes, enough about that. My parents returned home yesterday morning. Obviously my entries have not been very regular over this time. However, much has been going on which I would not previously have written about anyway, since I don't feel it would have been appropriate. But now I can share the news! The church has called a new Senior Minister and she has accepted. She and her husband came up this weekend for the final 'preach with a view' and question and answer time with the congregation, and the Special Church Meeting was held on Tuesday, where the vote was taken. I think many of us were nervous beforehand, not really knowing which way it would go, but now it is done and over and confirmed. Obviously this has been going on for the last few months, but as I say I did not feel it appropriate to write about until a decision had been made. So that is fantastic news.

Also on Saturday there was a church building open day, where we could go and look around the building. The result is tremendous. Where there were narrow corridors, cracked walls and difficult access for those less able, there is now an open, light building which flows beautifully throughout. It is now so community friendly and hopefully will be a fantastic resource to help and reach out to those around us.

So this has been a very positive week - even if we have been on tenterhooks at times!

On a personal level, my headaches have been very bad these last couple of days, which I have found a bit discouraging, but I do hope and pray I get some respite from them soon. I have scribbled my ratings on a pad so please feel free to ignore this exercise I am supposed to do for my own benefit:


Sunday 14th: 5/10, horrendously high
Mon 15th: 5/10, high
Tues 16th: 5/10, medium, high later in eve
Wed 17th: 4/10, medium
Thurs 18th: 4/10, medium -low
Fri 19th: 4/10, medium - low
Sat 20th: 4,10, medium
Sun 21st: 4-5/10, medium
Mon 22nd: 4/10, medium progressing to high
Tues 23rd: 4/10, medium - high
Wed 23th: 3-4/10, very high
Thurs 24th: 3-4/10, very high