Do you ever feel as though you are waiting to be found out? I feel that way often. Like I'm a fraud. As though very soon someone is going to discover who I really am and everything will come crashing down around me.
People will say (I imagine), "Who is she to be employed by a church? To teach our children? To preach to us? Her faith is so thin. Her sins are so shameful. Her self-control is so lacking."
Soon afterwards (I imagine) I will be set upon by a mob of angry folk carrying lanterns and various household-implements-turned-weapons and be paraded around town as an example to any others who may be considering masquerading in a similar way. (Or maybe life isn't quite so much like the end of a Disney film...)
Did you know, that's not what I'm supposed to be waiting for?
I am supposed to be waiting - eagerly looking - for Jesus to return (James 5:7). I'm supposed to be waiting - expectantly believing - to see the goodness of God in the land of the living (Psalm 27:13-14).
But I'm not. I'm waiting to be found out.
Where does this insecurity come from?
In part, (I think) it is a twisting of my desire to know God more, to inhabit a deeper spirituality, to really live, rather than just put one foot in front of the other. I ache for more, and I tell myself I am less-than, because I have less.
But do you know - as I type these words, I don't feel less-than. Not at all. Because this evening some truth has come my way, and it's truth that I want (need) to remember the next time I start to believe the lies that have so far made up the majority of this post.
The truth is:
I have already been found out.
I have been discovered,
uncovered,
found out,
called out.
The truth is:
My faith is thin.
My sins are shameful.
My self-control is lacking.
The truth is:
I am known,
seen,
forgiven,
and free.
Right now, I believe that no-one else's expectations or judgements (even my own) matter. I know I won't always feel like this (because of the thin faith, shameful sin and all that...) but that's ok. Because I will be able to take my mixed-up, messed-up thoughts and feelings to the Source of All Truth, and there - once again - I will find that I am known, seen, forgiven, and free.
Sunday, 13 August 2017
Tuesday, 4 July 2017
I'm feeling glad all over
This afternoon after dinner as my 18 month old "helped" me get the vacuum cleaner out of its cupboard, and my 4 year old danced around pretending to be "Mowgli", I was suddenly hit by how thankful I am for this life of mine.
Once the hoovering was done, we went upstairs for bathtime. Little Miss Independent is not a tactile girl, but after her bath, she loves to be wrapped up in her towel on my lap and to have me sing to her. This evening at her request I sang "I'm Special", (a Graham Kendrick classic from my childhood) and she joined in, but in a silly, growly voice that had us both laughing, and then Laurie climbed up too, and my heart just felt really full.
I recently found an app called HappyFeed, which reminds me every day to make a note of three things I'm thankful for. Now in the interest of complete honesty, I've already had days when three separate things felt like a push. But actually, more often my struggle is to narrow it down to just three!
I am so blessed. There are so many wonderful people and great things in my life. I tend to blog in times of crisis, or at least of stress, and I really hope this post doesn't sound saccharine or braggy in comparison. It just felt right to share something a bit different, but (I promise) still authentic.
Because regardless of all the rubbish that goes on, at a personal level and in the bigger picture of our world, there is still so much good. So much beauty. So much cause for joy. And if we let the rubbish blot out all the beauty, then the rubbish wins (and that's even rubbish-er).
"Count your blessings" is one of those phrases that can be mis-used. It can be an effective way to shut down someone who needs to talk about negative stuff they're dealing with, and can be as cutting as simply saying "stop whining". And I know you probably already know this (and I do too but I seem to forget, so here's a little reminder) but actually, counting our blessings, or if you like - naming our blessings - is a powerful act.
For such a simple exercise, it really packs a punch (at least it does for me!) It increases my wellbeing, it's an encouragement to look back on when things are rough, and it brings me near to God. He knows what we need, and he tells us to fill our minds with things that are "true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse." (Philippians 4:8)
And that just makes sense to me. It's like that Roald Dahl quote from The Twits:
In other words, the things we choose to think about, to dwell on, impact us in significant ways. Today thankfulness and joy have been easy to come by, but I think that might partly be because I have been training myself to look for the good, to search for things to be thankful for, to notice the small moments of beauty that pop up all over the place but can so easily slip away unattended.
Today I am glad. And I am thankful. But next time it's hard to be glad and thankful, still I will be obedient to God (and to Roald Dahl) and I will search for the best and the beautiful, the praise-worthy and the good. I hope you will, too.
(Apologies to any of my fellow Palace-supporting friends who opened this thinking it might be something to do with football. It just seemed like an apt title!)
Once the hoovering was done, we went upstairs for bathtime. Little Miss Independent is not a tactile girl, but after her bath, she loves to be wrapped up in her towel on my lap and to have me sing to her. This evening at her request I sang "I'm Special", (a Graham Kendrick classic from my childhood) and she joined in, but in a silly, growly voice that had us both laughing, and then Laurie climbed up too, and my heart just felt really full.
I recently found an app called HappyFeed, which reminds me every day to make a note of three things I'm thankful for. Now in the interest of complete honesty, I've already had days when three separate things felt like a push. But actually, more often my struggle is to narrow it down to just three!
I am so blessed. There are so many wonderful people and great things in my life. I tend to blog in times of crisis, or at least of stress, and I really hope this post doesn't sound saccharine or braggy in comparison. It just felt right to share something a bit different, but (I promise) still authentic.
Because regardless of all the rubbish that goes on, at a personal level and in the bigger picture of our world, there is still so much good. So much beauty. So much cause for joy. And if we let the rubbish blot out all the beauty, then the rubbish wins (and that's even rubbish-er).
"Count your blessings" is one of those phrases that can be mis-used. It can be an effective way to shut down someone who needs to talk about negative stuff they're dealing with, and can be as cutting as simply saying "stop whining". And I know you probably already know this (and I do too but I seem to forget, so here's a little reminder) but actually, counting our blessings, or if you like - naming our blessings - is a powerful act.
For such a simple exercise, it really packs a punch (at least it does for me!) It increases my wellbeing, it's an encouragement to look back on when things are rough, and it brings me near to God. He knows what we need, and he tells us to fill our minds with things that are "true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse." (Philippians 4:8)
And that just makes sense to me. It's like that Roald Dahl quote from The Twits:
“A person who has good thoughts cannot ever be ugly. You can have a wonky nose and a crooked mouth and a double chin and stick-out teeth, but if you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely.”
In other words, the things we choose to think about, to dwell on, impact us in significant ways. Today thankfulness and joy have been easy to come by, but I think that might partly be because I have been training myself to look for the good, to search for things to be thankful for, to notice the small moments of beauty that pop up all over the place but can so easily slip away unattended.
Today I am glad. And I am thankful. But next time it's hard to be glad and thankful, still I will be obedient to God (and to Roald Dahl) and I will search for the best and the beautiful, the praise-worthy and the good. I hope you will, too.
(Apologies to any of my fellow Palace-supporting friends who opened this thinking it might be something to do with football. It just seemed like an apt title!)
Tuesday, 16 May 2017
2 Bags of Crisps and a Packet of Biscuits
Did you read the title of this post? That's what I ate while sitting at my desk earlier today. In about 15 minutes. I was definitely not supposed to eat that. I didn't want to. But I did. And do. Most days. Alone. In secret.
This post is basically going to be me trying to figure out why. It may never get posted (I do that a lot - you would be surprised how often I actually blog, even when this page doesn't get updated for months and months - writing really helps me process stuff).
So...What The Actual Heck is going on with my snacking? Here follow some random thoughts in no particular order...
Around September, I realised I had no energy to play with Little Miss, and I thought I would try Couch to 5K (again). This time I stuck with it and have kept up with running. I am currently fitter than I have ever been. This means I give myself permission to snack more, and to snack on unhealthy things, because I am more active and therefore "can take" more calories. (Rationally, I know this makes no sense, but my brain is very clever at convincing me it does.)
My sleep has been disrupted (every single night) for 16 months and 2 days - since our precious boy arrived in our family. Lack of sleep makes me hungry, I tell myself. In particular it makes me crave sugar. And it saps my self-control (what little of it I have), making me more likely to give in to temptation. In the interests of being completely honest (even while worrying what you will all think about it), I'll own that I'm also still breastfeeding, and from anecdotal evidence, that is also a hunger-inducing activity!
Like so many of us, I feel like I am trying to keep a heck of a lot of balls in the air. All the time. My marriage, bringing up two little ones, my very vocational ministry job, precarious finances, never-ending laundry, friendships, a relationship with God, walking the dog - there is just so much to think about and fit into each day. And eating is a stress-reliever for me. I know it's unhealthy, I don't seem to know how to stop.
But I really want to.
Stop.
I hate my lack of self-control.
I hate that I constantly think about food and feel hungry.
I feel guilty all the time, as though I am lying, hiding, being duplicitous.
I dread being found out, and worry what people will think of me when they know for sure that I really don't have it all together (if I don't post this, here is the reason why).
And I'm scared that this eating must mean I'm suppressing something HUGE and if I stop I might discover it and fall apart (again).
But really, and deep down, I do know that eating junk food is not what is holding me together.
"He is before all things, and in him all things are held together" (Colossians 1:13).
And I know that what I need is to replace my faulty coping strategies with some unfaulty ones (yes, definitely a word). Like blogging. Which really helps. And like replacing the lies in my head with real, true, truth that says food can't fix anything broken inside me and it can't replenish my hungry soul. Which seems laughably obvious when you see it written down like that!
Once again, the lesson I have to learn is to turn to the place I know truth comes from. "For he satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things." (Psalm 107:9)
I am really, genuinely frightened of posting this, but I think that in order for things to change, it needs to be out there. I am sick of hiding and shame. I want to own my struggles and my weaknesses and through them allow God to work in me. And I want the glory to go to him - and that can't happen if no-one knows about it.
So here goes...
This post is basically going to be me trying to figure out why. It may never get posted (I do that a lot - you would be surprised how often I actually blog, even when this page doesn't get updated for months and months - writing really helps me process stuff).
So...What The Actual Heck is going on with my snacking? Here follow some random thoughts in no particular order...
Around September, I realised I had no energy to play with Little Miss, and I thought I would try Couch to 5K (again). This time I stuck with it and have kept up with running. I am currently fitter than I have ever been. This means I give myself permission to snack more, and to snack on unhealthy things, because I am more active and therefore "can take" more calories. (Rationally, I know this makes no sense, but my brain is very clever at convincing me it does.)
My sleep has been disrupted (every single night) for 16 months and 2 days - since our precious boy arrived in our family. Lack of sleep makes me hungry, I tell myself. In particular it makes me crave sugar. And it saps my self-control (what little of it I have), making me more likely to give in to temptation. In the interests of being completely honest (even while worrying what you will all think about it), I'll own that I'm also still breastfeeding, and from anecdotal evidence, that is also a hunger-inducing activity!
Like so many of us, I feel like I am trying to keep a heck of a lot of balls in the air. All the time. My marriage, bringing up two little ones, my very vocational ministry job, precarious finances, never-ending laundry, friendships, a relationship with God, walking the dog - there is just so much to think about and fit into each day. And eating is a stress-reliever for me. I know it's unhealthy, I don't seem to know how to stop.
But I really want to.
Stop.
I hate my lack of self-control.
I hate that I constantly think about food and feel hungry.
I feel guilty all the time, as though I am lying, hiding, being duplicitous.
I dread being found out, and worry what people will think of me when they know for sure that I really don't have it all together (if I don't post this, here is the reason why).
And I'm scared that this eating must mean I'm suppressing something HUGE and if I stop I might discover it and fall apart (again).
But really, and deep down, I do know that eating junk food is not what is holding me together.
"He is before all things, and in him all things are held together" (Colossians 1:13).
And I know that what I need is to replace my faulty coping strategies with some unfaulty ones (yes, definitely a word). Like blogging. Which really helps. And like replacing the lies in my head with real, true, truth that says food can't fix anything broken inside me and it can't replenish my hungry soul. Which seems laughably obvious when you see it written down like that!
Once again, the lesson I have to learn is to turn to the place I know truth comes from. "For he satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things." (Psalm 107:9)
I am really, genuinely frightened of posting this, but I think that in order for things to change, it needs to be out there. I am sick of hiding and shame. I want to own my struggles and my weaknesses and through them allow God to work in me. And I want the glory to go to him - and that can't happen if no-one knows about it.
So here goes...
Wednesday, 8 June 2016
Windows (the glass kind)
"When God closes a door, somewhere He opens a window," sighs Maria to herself as she is ejected from the Abbey towards the beginning of The Sound of Music. (Yes, one of the best singing nun films ever made.) And then she sings a number all about having confidence in herself and sunshine and Spring and all sorts of other things that aren't God.
I am learning that when God closes a door He may open a window, but it will be the window He chooses, not the one I identify on His behalf. And actually He might decide to open a sunroof instead of a window. Or turn on the air-conditioning (apparently I am now in a car in this metaphor, I'm choosing to go with it, feel free to join me...)
I've noticed a similar sort of dichotomy in my own life. Just recently God has closed the door on my time serving in Bristol. This wasn't "the plan" and has left me wondering what's next. God shut the door, so where's that open window that's just the right size for me to wriggle through?
And there's the problem, I'm instantly looking for the next thing. I'm so terrified I'll miss it (or that maybe actually God doesn't have a further plan for me) that I'm putting my energy into trying to suss out and work towards the next thing. And worse, I'm kind of telling God what should be through that next window when it opens...
- Something that uses my gifts, skills and experience.
- Something that will provide for my family.
- Something that will further validate the joys and struggles I've been through recently.
Have you ever found yourself slipping into a similar trap?
"I'll end this relationship that's pulling me away from God and He will provide me with the right person to marry."
"I'll give away my money/possessions and God will give me a laptop/car/4 bedroom semi when I need one."
I am learning that when God closes a door He may open a window, but it will be the window He chooses, not the one I identify on His behalf. And actually He might decide to open a sunroof instead of a window. Or turn on the air-conditioning (apparently I am now in a car in this metaphor, I'm choosing to go with it, feel free to join me...)
It's good to have dreams and plans and to get excited about opportunities and about the future. It's bad, and frankly, pointless, to try to dictate to God how He should be guiding and blessing you. (And please don't try to force your way through a window you think ought to be open for you but isn't, you could end up with glass in nasty places - I've been there. Metaphorically. Obviously.)
I think what I'm trying to say is:
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take."
Proverbs 3:5-6
Here I am, focusing on windows when - be they open or closed, whether what I can see through them looks like sunshine and buttercups or storms and thorn bushes - they are not the point. Once again I need to learn that the outcome is not the same as the end goal. What I end up doing is not the point.
The point is knowing God well enough to really trust him to open the right window at the right time. Why am I trying to climb through windows when I could be spending time with officially the best person in the universe? (One day I'll learn this lesson...)
Saturday, 30 January 2016
Breathing like a fish...
Have you ever seen Finding Nemo? (Stay with me, I'm almost sure I have a point)
There's a moment near the beginning of the film just after (*spoiler alert*) Nemo has been caught by divers when Marlin, his Dad, comes to the surface of the water desperately looking and calling for his son. But of course, he's a fish, so he can only exist above the water for a very limited amount of time.
So he has to plunge back into the water to take a life-prolonging "breath" (no, I don't understand how fish work and it seemed like too much hassle to look it up) before he can come up again and look and call some more.
Right now I relate to Marlin! I gave birth to a ridiculously wonderful little boy 16 days ago. And since then (highlights including the expected sleep deprivation, 2 unexpected bouts of mastitis, re-learning how to breastfeed, and Little Miss getting a sickness virus), it's felt a lot like I've been frantically swimming around on the surface existing on the last "breath" I managed to take in some time before Baby arrived.
And this morning as Baby sleeps on me and Little Miss eats her breakfast I am realising that I need to follow Marlin's example if I'm going to be able to continue on my own adventure.
I need to plunge into the depths and breathe deep the life-giving water I find there. Not the depths of the ocean, but the depths of the One who created it.
As the song says: "there I [will] find you in the mystery; in oceans deep my faith will stand."*
There have been times in my life when maintaining my spirituality has felt like another task for the to do list, one more thing that needs to be gotten out of the way so I can continue on with the rest of life without feeling guilty.
And then there are times like now. When it is so undeniably clear to me that life can only be found and sustained when I plunge headfirst into the living water that is provided for me in abundance - and breathe deep. That's the only way I'm going to get through this day, tomorrow, and whatever may be around the corner (and I'm hoping that writing it down here will help me next time I forget...)
So if you need me, I'll be over here, taking some time to breathe like a fish.
*Oceans, by Hillsong
Thursday, 1 January 2015
The Clichéd New Year's Resolution Post
Making resolutions is a favourite hobby of mine. It's part list-making, part unbridled optimism, and part beating yourself up - three things which come very naturally to me, and so I am enthusiastic about bringing them together.
I have never worried about limiting my resolution-making to "the season" (as it were) but I do tend to get a bit reflective at this time of year, and that usually leads to some resolution-type thoughts floating around waiting to be attended to.
I'm rather pragmatic about all of this, by the way - I reckon a couple of months (weeks? days?) of something good which then fizzles out is better than no time spent on the good thing at all. And you never know, this might be the time something sticks and my life is changed forever (the aforementioned unbridled optimism really does come in handy).
So today - as I have woken up late (late being 8.45am. Little Miss slept for 14 HOURS bless her wonderful soul!), packed bags, said goodbye to family, driven home, unpacked bags, cried a little over the last Miranda, and still not watered the poor, flagging Christmas tree - there has been a list taking shape in the back of my head that I am finally allowing myself to attend to.
I'm not going to share everything on that list, but as item number seven appeared on the paper, I realised words had been put to something that's been hanging around the outskirts of my consciousness for a while, and that I wanted to record it here.What I wrote was as follows:
"Be less afraid, less ashamed and more me."
To be honest, I wouldn't exactly call that a resolution; it's very different to the other items on my list. I like to set myself quantifiable goals, things I can tick off when they have been achieved. (For the record, I regularly add things to lists after I have done them, just to tick them off. I'm not even ashamed about it.) But as I let my brain wander over the things I plan to focus on this year, I got that funny feeling in my stomach which I have come to associate with God's voice breaking in to my situation (by the way, does anyone else get the stomach thing? Probably no-one does). And then I wrote that sentence.
And I realised I have lost some of my freedom. I don't know what exactly has been the cause. Possibly the transition I've made over the last 18 months from "woman" to "mother" - it is the best thing I have done or will ever do, but it does some funny things to your understanding of your Self. Possibly the move we made in September, leaving our community of more than ten years to follow God's call to a new job (a job share actually, between me and my husband) in a new church in a new city - I've never experienced having to begin again and establish so many relationships from scratch before.
I guess it doesn't really matter what the cause has been. What matters is that I don't remain where I am today. I believe that there is more to life than this. (I actually can't type that without thinking of the Zoolander quote I once used on some Alpha publicity "There must be more to life than being really, really, ridiculously good looking.") More to life than a feeling of needing to hold back in case...in case what? In case vague fears become reality and I am rejected somehow, or laughed at, or I fail.
I am looking for the freedom to be just exactly who I am and to accept that is all I can be and to know that it is enough. And I want to experience the fullness of life that I believe is part and parcel of that freedom. And I so badly need Jesus, in whom I believe all freedom and true fullness of life can be found.
So, to make a start down the path to being less afraid, less ashamed and more me (and handily beginning resolution number four), over the next couple of weeks I will be meditating on and memorising this verse, spoken by Jesus:
"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came so that they may have life, and have it abundantly." (John 10:10, NASB)
Are you making any resolutions for 2015?
Tuesday, 25 November 2014
This is my Sabbath, tell me yours
Last week, my doctor told me that "what I really need" (in order to shake this nasty virus that keeps stealing my voice) is a couple of days of rest, preferably with someone else watching Little Miss. I actually laughed in her face!
This is the real world, I told her (well, actually, I just thought it in my head, because laughing at her was already a little rude, and also, the virus had stolen my voice).
In the real world (said my brain) you can't just stop and rest, because while you are trying to rest you will just be worrying about having even less time to do all the GAZILLION things that you didn't have enough time to do before you tried to rest.
Then I went to church on Sunday evening and it was a bit like (read "exactly like") God laughed in MY face...
I already knew the topic was going to be Sabbath.
I already knew I had to pay proper attention because one of my lovely young people couldn't make it and had asked me to let her know "the gist" of what was covered.
I already knew that setting aside time to rest, renew and restore is something God wants me to prioritise.
I already knew that God made me as a human being, not a human "doing".
But I had forgotten.
I'd forgotten that it's not me that makes the world happen!
I'd forgotten that we are supposed to "work from rest, rather than rest to work."*
I'd ignored the fact that "not taking Sabbath is a sin."**
Eeshk. (No, not a word, but the best group of letters at my disposal to describe precisely my state of being at that moment).
So then we had our discussion time, and a question posed was - what does your Sabbath look like? What can you give your time to and guarantee that you will come out the other side refreshed and renewed? What helps you pause and breathe and thank?
And the answer was out of my mouth before my brain had even cottoned on (not an unusual occurrence for me). "Writing."
Writing is where I find my stillness, my rest, my peace. It's not my only Sabbath, but it's a very important one that I have been neglecting. So here I am. This is my Sabbath. What's yours? (Really - I am very interested and actually asking you! Let me know in the comments!)
*Mark Buchanan
** Pete Scazzaro
This is the real world, I told her (well, actually, I just thought it in my head, because laughing at her was already a little rude, and also, the virus had stolen my voice).
In the real world (said my brain) you can't just stop and rest, because while you are trying to rest you will just be worrying about having even less time to do all the GAZILLION things that you didn't have enough time to do before you tried to rest.
Then I went to church on Sunday evening and it was a bit like (read "exactly like") God laughed in MY face...
I already knew the topic was going to be Sabbath.
I already knew I had to pay proper attention because one of my lovely young people couldn't make it and had asked me to let her know "the gist" of what was covered.
I already knew that setting aside time to rest, renew and restore is something God wants me to prioritise.
I already knew that God made me as a human being, not a human "doing".
But I had forgotten.
I'd forgotten that it's not me that makes the world happen!
I'd forgotten that we are supposed to "work from rest, rather than rest to work."*
I'd ignored the fact that "not taking Sabbath is a sin."**
Eeshk. (No, not a word, but the best group of letters at my disposal to describe precisely my state of being at that moment).
So then we had our discussion time, and a question posed was - what does your Sabbath look like? What can you give your time to and guarantee that you will come out the other side refreshed and renewed? What helps you pause and breathe and thank?
And the answer was out of my mouth before my brain had even cottoned on (not an unusual occurrence for me). "Writing."
Writing is where I find my stillness, my rest, my peace. It's not my only Sabbath, but it's a very important one that I have been neglecting. So here I am. This is my Sabbath. What's yours? (Really - I am very interested and actually asking you! Let me know in the comments!)
*Mark Buchanan
** Pete Scazzaro
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