The one about…fear.

I knew it was going to be ‘one of those evenings’ when she said she couldn’t get to sleep! The wind was unusually strong, and eerily loud, especially through the huge yew trees which stood at the top of the garden.

“It’s just the wind”…I tried desperately to play it down but it didn’t help that last winter a large branch had fallen and narrowly missed the van parked on the driveway. I knew my attempts to convince her that it was ‘just a bit windy’ weren’t going to make any difference, no matter how many distraction techniques I tried!

I’d had about half an hour to myself, I don’t think I ask for much, just a little time to gather my thoughts, process the day and just be me once they’re all in bed…but best laid plans and all that! I took a breath and tried not to sound irritated, she was genuinely scared… “Ok, get into my bed, I’ll sit in there with you!” That was my evening gone!

I checked the oldest three were settled, and the rest were asleep. I put the dog to bed and texted Sid (he was out with friends) to warn him there was a child in his bed and he’d have to jump into hers when he returned, then I got into bed, the wind still howling…she took my hand and gripped it and then, within minutes I felt her grip loosen and her body relax, she slept…

It was the most beautiful moment. All my irritation and disappointment about “my time” melted away as I watched her sleep. The wind still howled, the trees still swayed and I was very aware that there’d be nothing I could do if they did fall on the house…but somehow I made her feel safe, somehow me being there was enough.

There were many things I thought about in that moment. I wondered why I’d got so precious about my time? Did I think I deserved an evening to myself, like it was something I’d earnt! Did I think I could clock out of parenting at 8:30pm because most of them were in bed? Had I learnt nothing in fifteen years!! There’s always another evening and I do know parenting is 24/7… it’s not like our youngest let’s me forget that!

I think the thing that bemused me most was the trust my daughter had in me, she found security and safety, not because I could change anything, but just because she knew I loved her. It was almost as if, in that moment, love overcame fear; as if love drove the fear out; as if love left no room for fear to exist.

I know that much of the fear in our world could be overcome if we learnt to love others rather than hate or distrust them. I know that some fear is irrational and can be negated by logic and self-talk. But what about the fears that are deeply personal, the fears that haunt us about who we are, where we’re going and how this is all going to end? How do we face those fears?

It seems sometimes we distract ourselves from those fears; we shop, we work, we socialise, we watch TV, we read books, we flick through social media, the list could go on and none of the things we do are wrong or bad in moderation, but they can become avoidance techniques and in the long run they’re about as useful as me trying to play the ‘Greatest Showman’ soundtrack to my daughter to drown out the wind!

The fear doesn’t go, it might be numbed or hushed for a while but often, deep within, our soul is still troubled, still uneasy, still fearful, no matter how much we try to avoid it.

Admitting fear exists is painful, it leaves us vulnerable. Maybe acknowledging that our soul needs to be held; that what’s deepest within us needs to connect to someone or something else; that our truest reality needs to know love, is the start to working with that fear.

Maybe that’s why the bible talks of God as love.

What if in that moment where I held my daughter’s hand, the mystery that we call God; that divine force; that love; became a very present reality? What if it’s love that both awakens and calms our soul? What if love is one way we experience the something that is outside of us, something we know to be true but can’t always define? What if God really is love and love really does exist!

The one about…time.

Some things just take time; like moving a family of nine to a new town, or settling into a new job or school, or understanding a new way of being in the world when something significant has changed. We live in a world of instant, fast and quick, we don’t always like the reality that some things just take time. We do however talk a lot about time; about not having enough time, or time running out. We talk about time being of the essence, we use words like ‘anytime’ and ‘sometimes’, we enjoy time off or time out and we work full time or part time. We have a good time, a hard time, a rough time and some things happen all in good time. Sometimes we’re in a race against time, living on borrowed time; or having a whale of a time, the time of our lives, wasting time, at the same time or ahead of time. Time; the indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present and future regarded as a whole or a theoretical construct established by humanity to enable us to place or plan events in some kind of order? We make good use of the concept of time, yet across our world time is viewed very differently.

Some cultures don’t place anywhere near as much emphasis on time as we do in the West, or atleast they understand time so very differently. We are monochronic, we are time obsessed, schedule dictated and busy. I read a book* a few years back written by a son of American missionaries who spent much of his childhood in a small African village. His village was visited one day by Frenchmen (but they could have equally been British or American). These Frenchmen asked many questions of the villagers about the future of their village, questions which the village elders were unable to answer. The chief gave this explanation:

“We are not like them. To them, time is everything. Did you see those silver circles on their wrists? Those things measure the day into very little pieces….Frenchmen think that counting time is important. A day can be divided into twenty-four parts, and each of those parts can be divided into sixty smaller parts…the smaller the men can measure the day, the more angry they seem to be. For the Senufo, the movement of the sun is as much measurement of the passage of time as we need. We know when to get up. We know when to work the fields and when to hunt. We know when to rest in the shade. We know when to go home. We know when to sleep. Children, it is enough.”

We do not live in a small African village following the pattern of the sun. Instead as Green Day so eloquently summed up “time grabs us by the wrist, directs you where to go,” we are slaves to our calendars, diaries and schedules and we are often stressed. So is there any way to hold time differently?

What if we start by admitting that there’s something slightly mysterious about time? What if we start to see time as a gift? A tool for us to use but not to be controlled or defined by? What if we were able to literally make better use of time? It seems that time can offer us a lot of comfort as we negotiate some of the more difficult opportunities life throws our way, as though time does have mysterious healing properties. Given time, events that once felt raw, painful and insurmountable become less so, time seems to reduce the pain, intensity and impossibility of some of the circumstances we experience. Time is mysterious in other ways too. There are days where time seems to stand still and days where time seems to fly. Yet we believe time always passes at the same rate? How can some things seems like they happened yesterday when actually it was five years ago and other things seem a lifetime ago despite only a week having passed? There are those moments where time stands still, moments where we witness an incident but it all seems to happen outside of time, we can’t get there quick enough or move out of the way fast enough, its as though we’re not functioning within the usual parameters of time. It seems there’s so much more to time than our narrow one dimensional view, although I’ve heard it said that we actually live in a half dimension of time because we can only move from the present forwards.

Which raises the question of what if there’s something or someone that exists outside of our constraints of time; a being, force or energy that isn’t limited by our understanding of time. An entity that holds all time and sees our past, present and future as a whole? What if we were able to comprehend time in a different way? How would that affect our understanding of death and loss? How would that impact how we hold the present? What if there is mystery to engage in, mystery that enables us to begin to grasp that this isn’t all there is, that what we hold to so tightly isn’t as important as we believed it to be and as we begin to realise this we also begin to let go of some of the things that we thought mattered and begin to celebrate life, here and now, in this place, in this space because time and space are inextricably linked. Here and now will always be where the joy is because here and now are all we actually have.

*Too Small to Ignore, Dr W. Stafford pg 84-85

 

 

 

 

 

 

The one about…moving.

Sid has been offered job. It has been a long, emotional journey, full of unexpected turns and strangely surprising outcomes, so it’s no surprise that people keep congratulating us on the good news. While I’m sure it must be ‘good news’, right now it feels more like ‘news’, which isn’t really how I think I should feel or how I expected to feel but I do remember similar feelings surfacing just over fifteen years ago when our first child was born.

I can picture myself standing in the tiny lounge of our quirky Victorian terraced house in Northampton, reading the ‘Congratulations on Your New Baby’ cards. I was standing because the tiny baby boy I was holding seemed to cry every time I hovered anywhere near a chair. I distinctly remember reading and re-reading the cards, desperately trying to fathom what on earth everyone was congratulating us for. The ‘new arrival’ did not let me sleep, he fed at least every three hours, sometimes for an hour; day and night. My nipples bled, other parts of my anatomy had been subjected to damage severe enough to warrant stitches, so even if he would let me sit down it wasn’t actually comfortable and then there was the affect the whole experience had inflicted on my marriage. My husband, whose eyes had once sparkled with playful attraction, now didn’t dare look at me; partly because the disturbing images of birth that he’d just witnessed tormented his mind whenever he saw me and partly because we both knew that if he looked at me the wrong way there was no guarantee I would respond as a loving wife should. A combination of sleep deprivation, hormonal overload and genuine fear of the tiny human in my arms left my mood somewhat unpredictable and not in a good way!  Yet there we both were, standing at a safe distance from each other, wondering if there would ever be such a thing as a safe distance from the baby, reading cards that spoke of happiness, joy and love…none of it made any sense.

The reality was that the people who designed those cards, and the people who bought them, knew that the arrival of a new baby was good news. There was an awareness that the seemingly demanding little person would bring us so much joy, laughter and happiness; all which would out weigh any drama surrounding his arrival, any need for sleep and anything else difficult, painful or just simply sad that we would inevitably experiecne at various points in our lives with him. They knew that this new life was good, and they were right. Our baby was and is a cause for celebration and we’ve had six more causes for celebration since, each with their own unique birth dramas, each with their own attempt at sleep deprivation as a form of torture and over the years, each with their own ‘moments’ where we’ve had to take a breath and just hold them through it, whatever it was. All of these moments have been totally worth every second of the craziness that is our life together.

So as I sit here, trying hard to comprehend that the news of a new job is in fact ‘good news’, I am reminded of those first time parent feelings. I’m reminded that in those early days where I felt lost and lonely and overwhelmed I was held and loved and somehow carried through. I’m reminded that all I ever had to do was take the next step, the next breath, change the next nappy! So while I’m apprehensive about how the next few weeks are going to play out, I do know that leaving a people and a place that I love will eventually be OK and that embracing a ‘new life’ together will be a great adventure. I know that despite my fears, despite the seemingly inordinate amount of details there are to sort out and despite the tears and the tension of trying to carry all of the emotions involved, including my own, that we are moving forwards. I also know that all I actually have to do is take the next step, whatever that is, because that’s all any of us can do. So while some steps might be more tentative than others, and some steps might bring tears and confusion, and while sometimes it might feel as though I’m going round in circles I know that ultimately this is all headed somewhere and that the somewhere is good.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The one about…words that create.

Abraham Joshua Heschel once said that “words create worlds” and God said “let their be light”.

It seems that words change things. But does the Divine actually speak?

The interview with Jesus last week got me thinking. What does conversation with the Divine sound like? There’s a song I’ve been listening to and some of the lyrics go like this:

🎵You say I am loved when I don’t feel a thing. You say I am strong when I think I am weak. You say I am held when I am falling short. When I don’t belong, You say I am Yours.🎵(Lauren Diagle-You Say)

Which is very similar the lyrics of another song which asks:

🎵Could you take care of a broken soul? Will you hold me now? Will you take me home?🎵(Jess Glynne-Take Me Home)

Both songs speak into what it is to feel lost and helpless, to need rescuing, to be held by something or someone who can be trusted, who can offer safety, hope and a future. There are many songs written that echo this, the thoughts aren’t new. These thoughts are also the basic plot of every fairytale ever told, almost as though through the stories the heroes and heroines are asking the questions of our deep human desire to find love, belonging and security.

It seems that throughout the centuries humanity has called out to something or someone that will listen. Through music, art and literature, or simply from within the depths of their own being, people have asked questions and looked to a higher force, a greater power, something or someone seemingly stronger than themselves for answers. It also seems that there are moments for all of us where life doesn’t make sense, where fear takes over no matter how much we try to reason with it, where the unanswered questions seem endless and we just need to know someone or something has got this because we’re not sure we have.

I’d call that ‘something’ God, but spirit, energy, ultimate reality and love work just as well as words to capture that something more. Whatever word we use though it doesn’t really answer the question of whether God (or that force of love) answers humanity in those moments. It doesn’t actually make sense of how we’re told we’re loved, held, strong or that we belong? I guess that’s where it needs to stop being some whimsical wish and become more tangible.

What if ‘God’ does speak? What if belonging is spoken of throughout all of nature, suggesting that nothing’s really wasted but everyting plays its part. What if love and strength are spoken of through the couple dancing in the falling blossom, the baby cradled in its mothers arms, the safe silence between the couple married for fifty years as they sit on the park bench or the lady walking her two rescue dogs? What if love and strength are seen in the sibling lifting her younger brother up to the post box to post the letter, the three year old picking daisies and putting them in an envelope to his grandma or the son holding his mum who’s just signed all responsibility for her life over to him? Love and strength whisper throughout our world in so many ways and somehow remind us that we are loved and held regardless of how we feel. Love, belonging and strength, they are all there to be seen in nature, community and the everyday; almost as if it is about what you choose to focus on, about choosing to take time to stop and listen because its all there to be seen, to be noticed and all there to become a part of.

Hearing the Divine is also about choosing not to find distractions to ‘numb the pain’ or ‘help us escape’ (Lewis Capaldi-Someone You Loved) but instead about choosing opportunities that help us feel alive, choosing the experiences and encounters that wake us up to reality, however hard that is, because it’s only in waking up, being present and living now that we truly experience and receive love, belonging and strength. To live numb or distant is to not know how loved and held you really are. To not really know how much you belong and to not discover the strength of identity.

What if that’s how the divine speaks, what if it’s in those moments where we choose to listen that we find truth, love and hope whispered over us and we know something bigger than us is holding all of this? What if it’s in those moments where we stop and connect with the world around, read a book, engage in conversation or listen to music, what if we’re attentive, noticing the small incidents that often go unnoticed? What if the divine speaks in our own thoughts and musings if only we would just pay attention to ourselves and really hear? What if the word has been speaking since the beginning and continues to speak today, all of the time? What if we just need to learn to listen? What if in the beginning was the word and the word was with God and the word was God?

The one about…asking Jesus that question?

Me: Jesus, hi, thanks for agreeing to do this. I’ve just got a couple of questions. I’m not used to doing the interview, it’s usually Sid so if it’s ok with you we’ll just get on with it! Tell me, who are you and why are you here?

Jesus: Hi, yes, love that you wanted me to do this, it’s a good question, something many people have tried to answer. Who do people say the Son of Man is?”

Me (slightly flustered): erm, some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets. Your mate Peter said ‘the Messiah, the Son of the living God.’ But I was actually hoping for your answer.

Jesus (smiling serenely): I know, but what about you? Who do you say I am?”

Me (even more flustered): Er, God? Well, God in human form. The manifestation of love? The embodiment of mystery? Tangible spirit? Corporeal reality? Life? But your answer would be helpful. You know you should have been a politician, your ability to avoid the actual answer to a question is like some divine gift. Anyway, we’ve lost focus slightly…so, who are you?

Jesus (laughing): Ok, I’m the Light, the bread, the door, the way, the truth, the life; I’m the resurrection, the vine, the good shepherd. I’m life.

Me: right, yep, great; that’s quite a list. Tell me, why are you here?

Jesus: I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they have ever dreamed of.

Me: that’s interesting. You claim to be ‘bread’ as well as be here to provide; to be ‘the door’ or ‘the light’ or ‘the way’ and be here to show the way; to be ‘truth’ and to tell the truth; to be ‘the resurrection and the life’ and be here to bring life? It seems that your identity and purpose are inextricably linked. Which raises the question of whether the two questions can actually be asked separately. What if who we are is also why we’re here? What if we’re here to be who we are? What do you think?

Jesus: I think I fancy fish for tea, you up for a picnic on the beach? Talking of fish, did you watch the documentary on BBC2 about the four families who tried out being fisherman, I’m not sure but I think it was the BBC’s attempt at Love Island?

As it happens I did catch the end of a couple of episodes of that documentary. I didn’t watch the whole series (seems I never do!), but I was reminded that life at the turn of the century was hard. They worked just to survive, there was no making a little extra so that they could enjoy a night away or take the kids to a theme park. Life back then was simply about survival. Answering the question who are you and why are you here would have been almost nonsensical, they were fishermen and they were here to be fishermen.

The same reality stands true today in many cultures across our world. There are people who don’t have the luxury of wondering why they’re here, their lives too immersed in producing food for themselves and their families, providng shelter and sustaining life. They find identity in their purpose and their purpose is their identity. Their purpose is to live.

Maybe its not a luxury to wonder why we’re here. What if we were healthier mentally and spiritually when our purpose was simply to be alive. What if our “developed world” with celebrity culture, rich lists and our desire for more success, wealth and notoriety means we find ourselves losing sight of who we are, becoming caught up in unhealthy notions of who we could be, which stop us being fully present now? What if the leisure time we think we deserve, the ‘little extras’ we believe we earn actually detract from our abilty to know who we are and stifle our ability to genuinely share life with others?

What if knowing who we are could negate the need for comparison or competition? What if knowing our identity and our purpose enabled us to live from a place where we could celebrate the success of others more readily and smile at their joy? Maybe if all of us were able to know who we are and focus on living right now we’d find that community could flourish. We’d find a reliance, a generosity and a genuine need for each other that was far from superficial.

What if the reason we’re here is to simply be who we are? What if we fully understood that we are unique, that no one else can bring what we bring to our families, friends, communities or the world? What if we are here to be fully alive, to truly live, to share ourselves as a good gift to the world? What if it is as simple as that?

Me: Jesus, just one more thing, the being life and bringing life, that’s quite a mind blowing concept!

Jesus: you know Christ isn’t actually my surname?

Me: 🤔

 

The one about…an open letter!

Dear God, the Source, the Divine, the Universe, Mystery, Energy, Spirit, Love.

I wrote an open letter to the Secretary of State for Education this week. I wrote the letter because my children have found themselves caught in a system which wasn’t speaking truth over them. It made me wonder how many people are caught up in a world where the truth about who they really are is not told. So God, I’m looking to you for some wisdom.

According to the government of this country my four year old is a failure. He can’t write a simple sentence without support so apparently he’s failing. He’s four and that’s the message they’re giving him?

I am grateful that he has a teacher who will never utter those lies over him; she will never tell him that he’s not good enough. She will speak only good things over him because she is a good person. Yet she is required to constantly assess and measure the children in her care, comparing them all against criteria that doesn’t value who they are.

I used to think that you placed similar measures on humanity, that you constantly assessed the ways we do or don’t measure up, that you kept some eternal league score of who’s in and who’s out, who’s good and who is not good enough.

There are generations of people who believe that in the eyes of the universe they are not good enough, who believe they don’t measure up, who believe that they won’t succeed.

I don’t buy into that particular understanding of you anymore so in the same way that I won’t stand by silently and let my children be told that they are failing or that they won’t succeed I also won’t stand by and let humanity continue to believe that you think they are failing or unsuccessful.

We want mental health issues to decrease, we want unemployment to reduce, we want violence and terrorism to stop; but until we inspire and encourage each other to believe that you speak only good over us, and in turn learn to speak only good over each other, we will not be a people who thrive. Until we start to believe that you believe in us and then begin to believe in who we are, celebrate what we can do and have the courage to try what we can’t, without fear of judgement from you or each other, we will not be a people that experience life in all it’s fullness.

It starts from the moment life begins and living from this place of belief, aspiration and encouragement needs to continue until we are all equipped to love each other and the world.

The way we understand you and each other needs to be drastically reconsidered so that we take the pressure off our misinformed definitions of success and failure and allow ourselves to get on with living and loving alongside all the incredibly creative, naturally inquisitive and highly capable people in our world.

Any help in letting the world know very gratefully received!

Yours, always…

Deb x

The one about…the story we’re telling ourselves!

“You’re already telling yourself a story so tell yourself a better one!” The words jumped out at me and everything else seemed muffled or irrelevant. What if he’s right? What if it’s that simple? The thought stayed with me.

Psychologists talk about the “tapes” we play.* Sometimes it’s called self- talk, it can be positive or negative but at its very essence it’s the story we tell ourselves about our lives and it’s influenced by every encounter and experience we’ve had, good or bad.

We all have accounts we can relay of moments that have stayed with us, words spoken over us, experiences that have impacted us or memorable occasions that have changed us. There are millions of other encounters and conversations that we don’t remember but are stored somewhere deep within us. We all have parents, teachers, siblings, colleagues, peers, who have influenced us subtly and sometimes not so subtly. They’ve created a frame for how we see ourselves and what or how we believe our lives should be. We’re also influenced immensely by the dominant culture that surrounds us, music, news, film, literature; all shape what we believe to be true about ourselves.

Some people have had mostly positive messages spoken over them, others are better at filtering the negatives like Jack in the film Titanic who, when he’s asked if he enjoys his “rootless existence” replies:

Well yes ma’am I do…I mean I got everything I need right here with me. I’ve got the air in my lungs and a few blank sheets of paper. I love waking up in the morning not knowing what’s going to happen or who I’m going to meet…Just the other night I was sleeping under a bridge and now, here I am on the grandest ship in the world having champagne with you fine people.”

Oh to interpret a story with such positivity!

Yet for others, the message they’ve received has damaged them and their ability to really know who they are and the tapes they play aren’t positive or necessarily even true.

What if it’s possible to start telling yourself a different story?

Whatever your opinion or understanding of the bible what the book does is continually take the story being told to a nation, tribe or individual and tell a better one. So slaves are told they are a people, the childless are told they will grow a nation, prisoners are told they will be free, women are told they have value, prostitutes are told they are loved, the outcasts are told they are welcome, the illiterate and uneducated are told they’ll change the world! Stories are re-told. Even the ones we read as primitive and barbaric are often actually a step forward for those people, in that time, in the way they interact with the world!** The work of the divine has always been to tell a better story.

Which takes us back to the question what if our stories can be retold? Maybe you don’t need it retelling, maybe you’re able to hold a positive, authentic, humble opinion of yourself with integrity constantly. What if though, there are times that challenge us, that daunt us, that leave us feeling less than capable? What if at times we feel anxious, insecure, bitter or frustrated and the story we tell ourselves just feeds deeper into those emotions? What if we’re able to take a step back, to review the story, to ask why we believe that about ourselves? What if we to dare to believe there’s a better story, another view, an alternative path, which that particular story can follow?

What if we choose to focus on what we can do rather than what we can’t, who we are instead of who we aren’t? What if we change the negative talk about that person and start seeing them as the more fragile human we know ourselves to be? What if we choose to believe we can do good in this world and as a result, in every interaction, we seek to record a positive message onto someone else’s tape? What if there’s a true story at work in the world that we can be part of? What if we’re all telling ourselves a story and it really is possible to tell ourselves a better one!

* tapes, a throwback to how life was but also a recognised psychological term!!! Maybe now we’d just have it all stored in our “cloud”??

** you’ll see what I mean!!! In “What is the Bible?” Rob Bell writes:

Does it surprise you when someone in the bible wins a battle and then gives their gods the credit? That’s what people did at that time.

Does it surprise you when after, winning, they wiped out the women and children and then said their gods told them to do it? That’s what people did at that time.

Does it surprise you when they won and then let no one escape but put everyone to the sword, and then said they did it with their gods power? That’s what people did at that time….

You find these stories violent and repulsive and barbaric because they are.

If you didn’t find them shocking and awful and confusing, something is wrong with you.

The violence isn’t that surprising; what’s surprising is that among all that violence there are new ideas about serving and blessing and nonviolence….What you find in the bible are stories accurately reflecting the dominant consciousness of the day, and yet right in among and sometimes even within those very same violent stories, you find radically new ideas about freedom, equality, justice, compassion and love.