The Year in Books: May

This month we have a book on a slightly different topic, Toynbee Hall: The First Hundred Years by Asa Briggs and Anne Macartney.  For years I have seen references in various books to the settlement movement or university settlements, without truly understanding what they meant, so I went looking, which led me to Toynbee Hall and this book.

Toynbee Hall, in the east end of London, was established in 1884, named after an Oxford historian who had died the previous year.  In the 1880s there was a movement to address the poverty and appalling living conditions of many in the great cities.  Rev. Samuel Barnett, Toynbee Hall's founder had moved from a church in Mayfair to St Jude's, a derelict church in the east end in 1872 and it was here that Barnett and his wife Henrietta became drawn into community action.  The great idea of Toynbee Hall and the university settlement movement was to bring young undergraduates into the poorest communities to learn what life there was truly like, as a catalyst to change and to run schemes for education, welfare, better housing and even in time union organisation.

Samuel and Henrietta Barnett, painted by Hubert von Herkomer  

Barnett seems to have been determined to see his faith lead to practical action, he wished the people who came to the east end "to settle, that is, to learn as much as to teach, to receive as much as to give".  He wanted those making social policy to have knowledge of the problems faced by the people they were trying to help and his work had a huge impact.  Among people and projects he influenced were Cosmo Lang, later Archbishop of Canterbury, Charles Booth, who mapped London's poverty, future prime minister Asquith and William Beveridge, author of the eponymous report that led to the foundation of the NHS and welfare state.  Moreover for some men and women involvement in Toynbee Hall led to considerable social and educational advancement, the first scholarships for pupil teachers to go to Oxford or Cambridge were established in 1892.  While some involved in Toynbee Hall did very well such as J M Dent, bookbinder who became a publisher and established the Everyman series and Thomas Okey, a basket maker, who became first Professor of Italian at Cambridge.

I am not far through the book but already I find the breadth of the aims and vision of Toynbee Hall inspiring and slightly breath-taking.  Their work has a lot of relevance for today; sadly the problems they were tackling are still with us and getting worse, especially economic inequality.  It also makes me sad that these men and women fought so hard to get decent housing, health care etc. for all and we are now watching their work being dismantled or crippled by lack of funding.  So I would recommend this book as very readable and would commend it to any publisher who would consider republishing it.  Let us follow in their footsteps.

You can see the other entries for The Year in Books here
   

Where next?

If I am honest I put too much hope in the election result, in a change of government, in a change of culture and approach.  The exit poll and subsequent results have knocked me flat: I am honestly not sure how I am going to cope with another five years of Conservative government.  Another five years of being described as a "scrounger" and a "shirker", another five years of the poorest in society suffering the most, another five years of fear and blame and divide and rule.

It is not that I hate the Conservatives per se, or that I hate Conservative voters.  I do hate the campaign they ran, filled with fear, fear of the Scots, fear of the economy, fear that if you do not grasp all you have you may lose it.  I hate the idea that all that matters is you, you and your hard working family, nothing else matters.  I hate the idea that the poor deserve poverty, that it is a matter of personal responsibility, if only people tried harder they would not be poor.  This is blatantly untrue: it ignores all the structures that keep people poor.

I am filled with dread of what £12 billion of welfare cuts are going to mean to my community, to the disabled, none of whom chose their circumstances, what is going to happen?  How are we to live?  What is it going to mean for the increasing numbers of children growing up in poverty?

There is so much that concerns me, scares me, angers me, I feel so passionately about what is happening.  But, but, I am ill, I am exhausted, the anger and anxiety make me more exhausted and sore and ill.  How can I make a change?  How can I get involved and fight and campaign?  To be sure, if I were well, I would be out there, doing everything I could to make a difference.  Instead I feel like my arms are tied behind my back, my feet tied together and my mouth gagged: I feel silenced and made invisible by my illness.

So where next?  I am at a loss.  I am trying to keep an eternal perspective, trying to pray, trying to find hope in God, but the present feels so overwhelming.

I may head back to the Psalms, it feels like a time for lament.

The Impatient Rester

The exertion of moving house and all the work it has entailed has knocked me for six; it is the worst ME crash in years and my word how impatient I am to be back on my feet!  I am so bored of resting, of aching with tiredness and having to say "no" to things I really want to do.  Days seem to float past, each one much alike and it is hard to keep from getting depressed by the situation.  Now I do know that compared to many people I am incredibly lucky to be able to so much, but somehow that is never enough is it?  I want to be getting stuck into church things, helping out, inviting people over, going places, exploring, making, gardening.  The gap between what I can do and what I want to do is vast, a canyon, so if I say, "yes" to something or suggest doing something, then have to pull out, that is why.  In terms of energy my eyes are bigger than my energy reserves.

I am trying to stay positive, to take each day as it comes, be grateful for what I have, for the peace and chance to recover, but I am human and do not find it easy.  Maybe my calling right now is just to be?

A new arrival is helping make this time of resting bearable, I have adopted a small black cat named Willow from a local shelter.  She is about six, affectionate, determined, funny, sweet and loving.  There is nothing she likes more than a lap for the afternoon, cuddles by the hour and will sit on me in such a way that I cannot do anything else except sit, which for someone who struggles to rest, is invaluable.  I wish I had had a cat years ago, they offer great companionship.  I look forward to getting up now so I can go downstairs to see her.

Perhaps I should write soon about what I have been knitting while I have been resting?  For now it is time to head back to the sofa.

Merry Christmas!

Wishing you a very Merry Christmas full of hope and joy.  I feel this poem sums up some of the majesty and mystery of Christmas and forms a counterpoint to the delights of turkey, tinsel and trimmings; it reminds us why we are celebrating.  I love the last lines, they are a reminder that God has intervened and brought His kingdom into our world, the curtain between the two has been torn and the new time has already begun.  Rejoice!

BC:AD

This was the moment when Before
Turned into After, and the future's
Uninvented timekeepers presented arms.

This was the moment when nothing
Happened. Only dull peace
Sprawled boringly over the earth.

This was the moment when even energetic Romans
Could find nothing better to do
Than counting heads in remote provinces.

And this was the moment
When a few farm workers and three
Members of an obscure Persian sect.
Walked haphazard by starlight straight
Into the kingdom of heaven.

U A Fanthorpe

Christian Community and the Sick

When I first heard about the Community of St Anselm, the new community of prayer being established at Lambeth Palace for people aged 20-35 to “spend a year in God's time”, I was terribly excited and ready to sign up right away. I have been increasingly interested in the ideas around community for some years now and the practises of regular prayer through the day, although I have been less successful always in establishing that discipline at home on my own. It sounds like a fantastic opportunity to grow, learn and experience God. Most of all I thought, “imagine not being lonely for a whole year, not being a Christian alone, being with other Christians”. Being sick, unable to work and coming from a non-Christian family has been intensely lonely, both from a general point of view and from a specifically Christian point of view.

But then reality kicked in, the reality that this community needed energetic people, it was there in the language of discipline, rigour, discomfort and hard work. The reality that someone like me would never keep up for a week, let alone a year. The reality that being around people can be draining. The reality that being chronically ill has made me something of a hermit, unable to be around people, too tired to take part in so many things, not a willing hermit, but one because of circumstance.

My natural reaction to this is to be thoroughly fed up at seeing yet another opportunity go out of my reach, being shut out again because I have no energy to be busy and active, feeling useless yet again. Yet although these feelings are valid and need expressing, it does not have to end here does it? So I cannot be part of this community? It does not mean that I and others like me are shut out of all expressions of community?

I hate to think of there being others out there like me, each isolated from the wider church, feeling outside and being unable to connect with one another. Although things are easier now, I have been through times of intense isolation and still feel too isolated from and out of step with other Christians my own age, and I cannot be the only person in a similar situation? Beginning to read Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Life Together has provided a challenging view of community and I have been especially struck by his view that to live in community with our brothers and sisters in Christ is a privilege.

“So between the death of Christ and the Last Day it is only by a gracious anticipation of the last things that Christians are privileged to live in visible fellowship with other Christians. It is by the grace of God that a congregation is permitted to gather visibly in this world to share God's Word and sacrament. Not all Christians receive this blessing. The imprisoned, the sick, the scattered lonely, the proclaimers of the Gospel in heathen lands stand alone. They know that visible fellowship is a blessing. They remember, as the Psalmist did, how they went 'with the multitude... to the house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, with a multitude that kept holyday' (Ps. 42.4). But they remain alone in far countries, a scattered seed according to God's will. Yet what is denied them in actual experience they seize upon more fervently in faith.”

So community is not only a privilege, but also a prophetic way of living that foretells the way things will be on the new earth. However, as we are still being remade and are not yet fully perfected, living out this calling is a tremendous challenge as we need to be able to leave behind our own needs, priorities and concerns in order to love one another and live together in harmony. Do the demands that illness make upon my body leave enough energy and strength for this challenge?

In myself certainly no, but in God's grace and with His help who knows what may be possible, always bearing in mind that as things stand I am not healed. Therefore maybe my challenge is to consider other means of living in a degree of community, looking for a way for people like me, who are shut out because of sickness, to come together for fellowship, be it virtual or visible? Prayer is one of the few things you can still do when you have next to no energy, so there is no reason for the sick to be shut out of Archbishop Justin's call to prayer, but the challenge is to find ways of enjoying the privilege and blessing of praying with others. Paradoxically this illness has been the means by which I have learnt to value prayer and to rely on God in prayer, because I have fewer of my own resources. I have learnt that prayer takes incredible perseverance, some days just concentrating enough is a massive struggle and of course there are days when the prayer is the simple, primeval, “help!” and no more. God is gracious and helps me when I ask Him to help me with prayer and reading the Bible. But being able to come together with other Christians daily for prayer continues to be something I dream about.

It seems, therefore, that I will be sitting out the Community of St Anselm, but perhaps it can prompt me to fresh thinking about community and its different forms? And of course I can pray, for the Community itself, for the wider church and that we can find a way for people like me to take part in a community of fellowship and encouragement, virtual and face to face. I have no idea what form this will take or what it will look like, or even if it will happen, but for now I will keep reading, praying, hoping and waiting on God.

The Year in Books: August

This month's book is actually a children's book, Grace by Morris Gleitzman, a British born author who has lived in Australia most of his life.  My sister and I had a few of his books as children, I particularly remember Blabbermouth and Two Weeks with the Queen.  His books are unconventional and like Jacqueline Wilson he is not afraid to tackle big issues, so when I spotted Grace on Audible I thought I would give it a go.

Morris Gleitzman

Grace and her family belong to a very strict church who believe that only they are going to heaven and that they must keep themselves away from the world to avoid "catching sin"; Grace herself is an engaging narrator, trying to do the right thing but often committing the sin of thinking for herself and asking questions.  Gleitzman captures the atmosphere of a very tight-knit, controlling community, while managing to keep his protagonists from appearing monsters, through Grace we see that the people who are hurting her family have been hurt in their turn.  The church has a very Old Testament focus, presenting God as demanding above all obedience, but I found it notable that in this Old Testament world, Grace's parents, the (comparatively) free thinking rebels, had given their children names with a more New Testament flavour.

Ultimately Gleitzman does bring a sense of hope and redemption out of these apparently unpromising beginnings.  Reading it from the point of view of a member of a church the book, while it could have been incredibly negative about religion, in fact felt positive and affirming and spoke about what church should and should not be like.  We need to think for ourselves and encourage and enable our young people to think for themselves: Christianity at its roots is a thinking, reasoning, questioning faith.  Exploring the Bible you can see many people grappling with God, with who He is, questioning Him, thinking, considering, from Jacob and Job, right through to Paul.  So we need to be able to take our faith beyond obedience and conformity, faith and reason do not have to be mutually exclusive.

If you want to get a flavour of the book you can read the first chapter on the author's website here, while in this interview he discusses the background to writing Grace.  I think I will be revisiting some of his books, I think adults can learn a lot from children's and young adults' books.

You can see the other entries for August in The Year in Books here

The Year in Books: July

Again, scraping in close to the wire, partly this month because for most of the month there was no one book that grabbed me and that I felt I had to write about.  That is not to say there have not been some good books, such as Janet Frame's first collection of short stories, an anthology of comic stories, H G Wells' engaging but slightly strange book Marriage or the ever delightful Psmith.  Instead I have decided on a book I am only half way through: God on Mute: Engaging in the Silence of Unanswered Prayer by Pete Grieg, recommended to me by a friend as I have struggled with prayer for quite a time now.  I often struggle to want to pray and I find myself worrying about prayer, particularly in light of all the terrible things happening around the world.  Or I end up feeling that as prayer is one of the few things I can do, I ought to be doing it more or "trying harder".

God on Mute is a book about faith, about prayer, specifically grappling with unanswered prayer and why our prayers might not be answered.  Pete Grieg set up the 24/7 Prayer network and in his own life has had serious struggles and unanswered prayers meaning he writes with power and from personal experience.  Pete Grieg combines this personal material with solid theology, presented in an accessible way and structured loosely around the narrative of Maundy Thursday to Resurrection Sunday.  Some of what it has to say is not necessarily what we want to hear about prayer and about God, but it is what we need to hear.

I cannot fully write about this book or do it justice: God on Mute is honest, godly, transformative.  I am only part way through the book but already feel freer, less worried, with an increased understanding of prayer, how wrestling with prayer can draw us closer to God.  How suffering does not mean we have done something wrong, but that suffering and persisting in prayer through the hard times can draw us closer to God.  It is so refreshing to read a modern Christian writer affirm that life is hard, but God is good.  The world is broken, life is hard, but that is not the end of the story: God is with us, Jesus died and was buried and rose again so that one day things can be different, the battle may rage around us, but the war, ultimately is won.

If you want a taster of Pete Grieg's teaching on unanswered prayer he has recently done a sermon on the subject at his church, which is well worth a listen (also available as a podcast).  Then go and buy a copy of the book, I am thinking of buying at least one more copy so I can start lending it round.

To see the rest of the year in books entries for July click here

Easter hope

I have not had that much to say lately, I have been going through a bit of a bad patch and been really down at times.  Together with horrible panic attacks at night and the lack of sleep that follows from that, life has not felt like much fun.  I have struggled with my faith too, it is not that I do not believe, not that at all, I still believe in God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit and the Bible, that it is all true.  But more I have been struggling with me in relation to God, struggling to see past the bad in me, struggling to cope with myself and my inadequacy and why God would ever want anything to do with me.  Struggling with grace I suppose, again.

So Easter has been a precious reminder of what Jesus has done for us, that He has taken our sin and takes it afresh every day, so that we can go to the Father.  Today I feel a renewal of hope because Jesus has died for us and has risen and stone is rolled away and the tomb is empty and so everything is possible.  I will still make mistakes today and tomorrow and the day after, I am not perfect in myself and never can be, but through Christ, in God's eyes I am and I am loved and accepted.  How to take in this truth, to understand it and live out that truth?

A couple of songs have been helping me along this path, one is from an album reviewed on a university friend's blog, by a band called Page CXVI and is called Roll Away the Stone, I love the chorus:

Roll away roll away the stone!
Where he lay, where he lays no more
Risen and victorious radiant and glorious
He rose amen He broke the chains of sin

And Boldly I Approach by Rend Collective, a meditation on Hebrews 4.16: "Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."



I hope they help you enjoy God's grace anew this Easter.  Life has been hard, it will be hard again, but we all need a reminder of the truth to show us that this is not all, that there is a hope to come.  It is a relief to be able to remember God's grace despite not having been able to go to church as I would love to do and amid all the other frustrations of my life.  I do not know what is next or where I should be going but for now I will try to rest with God and remember that the Easter message, "That there is now no condemnation for those who are in Jesus Christ."

Sunset on Good Friday

The Art of Celebration

Last Monday my favourite band, Rend Collective, released their latest album, titled The Art of Celebration and I have been listening to it all week.  The songs have an energy and life to them and contain many truths and promises.  The premise of the album is that God is always worth celebrating, no matter what the circumstances of our lives and sets the tone by opening:

We’re choosing celebration
Breaking into Freedom
You’re the song...
Of our hearts

This song, Joy, is one of my favourites on the album, the lines "The pain will not define us/Joy will reignite us" have been resonating with me, so often I feel like my identity is being subsumed by illness.  There is an interesting dance remix of this song at the end of the album, while dance music isn't usually my scene, it can work for worship music and it mixes well with rhythms of Irish origin often used by Rend Collective.

The band have talked about not liking being pigeon-holed as a "folk" band and have tried to diversify for this album, but I would say to them not to worry about it, their original philosophy of making music that anyone could get involved in is great, stick with that philosophy.  It is much closer to historical church music than the "traditional" organ and choir music, which originated in the nineteenth century when village music groups were banished from churches in favour of organs.  Let's put worship back into the hands of the people and have inclusive music that has its roots in the past but has freshness for today.

I am terrible at celebrating, terrible at seeing and remembering the good in life and in God; it sometimes feels like my brain is fixated on the bad, the evil, my sin, endless darkness.  But the Bible is packed with people celebrating God, Paul and Silas singing their hymns in prison in Acts 16 particularly come to mind and I hope this album can help me to learn more about always celebrating Jesus and what He has done and is going to do.  Despite the name the songs do acknowledge the hard side of life, it is not mindless "everything is wonderful" stuff, but about the conscious choice to celebrate.  Darkness, deserts, pain, doubts, questions, sorrows, shadows are all allowed in and acknowledged, but placed in their proper perspective of God's grace and goodness and mercy and light.

There's so much I love about this album, I will admit to not being the most moderate or measured reviewer (though honestly I am not in their pay and I bought my copy!), it has brightened up a dull week and has a message I badly need.  Have a listen - in their generosity the band have put the lyric videos on youtube - see what you think, buy a copy, celebrate.

By your power I can change, I can change
‘Cos you’re not finished with me yet 

This is the art of celebration
Knowing were free from condemnation
Oh praise the One, praise the One 

Christmas

When I was a child December seemed to stretch forever, day after day, marked out in little cardboard doors, tantalisingly keeping me from the apex of the excitement, the best day of the year: Christmas Day.  The air seemed almost to sparkle, there were endless excitements, carol concerts, plays, parties and treats, baking, decorations, pantomimes, a sense of goodwill seemed to pervade.  There were the yearly rituals, watching the Blue Peter team lighting the advent candles, helping to decorate the tree, going to the church to watch the familiar story acted out.  Then my one night of the year of excited insomnia before the Big Day with all its stockings and presents and turkey and crackers.

But Christmas now, where has the magic gone?  Now December seems a different sort of time-warp, the days falling over themselves in their rush to get away before Christmas looms.  Days full of lists of presents to be bought, cards to be sent, jobs to be done.  The reality of the work behind the sparkle hitting home.



Now instead there are small, quiet compensations for the onset of age, the satisfaction of choosing just the right present, the happiness of cards sent and appreciated, meeting old friends in the box of decorations, the heady spiced whiff of mixing Christmas cakes and puddings. While that feeling of Christmas joy and magic is more fleeting, glimpsed occasionally in a child's face or conjured up from turning on the Christmas lights at dusk and watching them make the glitter come to life in a quiet twinkling glow.  Light coming into the darkness.

Light coming into the darkness, that's what it is about in the end, hope coming into the world as the nights draw in.  Trying to find time, amidst the lists, to remember the first Christmas in all its ragged perfection.



Since I started this meditation a few days ago the weight of expectation and waiting has increased, I have slowed down (responding to the aide memoire of a two week headache) and the days seem to have joined me.  I am grateful for the slowing of the days and for the time to think, if not for the illness that creates this time.  The wind whistles and howls around the house with occasional breaks for glorious mild sunshiny winter days and a feeling of Christmastime has crept into the house on the heels of gingerbread and carols.  At the same time I have remembered some of the reality behind those painfully exciting childhood Christmasses, such as the year I slept so little on Christmas Eve that I was tearfully exhausted by seven and wasted precious hours of Christmas day in an early bedtime.  Christmases pile up memory and experience in layers, each bringing a part of themselves to each new Christmas; while my understanding grows and changes, of what Christmas meant and means.  I go again to the child in the manger and the light come into the world, and begin to ponder the Christ who will come again and the double waiting of Advent.

Charles Wesley's hymn Come Thou Long Expected Jesus is a current favourite, I especially love this version by a band called Kings Kaleidoscope

Come thou long expected Jesus
Born to set thy people free
From our fears and sins release us
Let us find our rest in thee 

Israel’s strength and consolation
Hope of all the earth thou art
Dear desire of every nation
Joy of every longing heart 

Born thy people to deliver
Born a child and yet a king
Born to reign forever
Now thy gracious kingdom bring  

By thine own eternal spirit
Rule in all our hearts alone
By thine all sufficient merit
Raise us to thy glorious throne 

Come Lord Jesus, into this dark world, bring your light, your presence and your kingdom. Thank you for Christmas, in all its meanings, Amen

On fear

Although I have heard the promises such as “if our God is for us, who can be against us” and others of its ilk, I still find the world a terrifying place.  I feel plagued by fear, surrounded by it, caught up in it.  The thought of the long-term future fills me with such panic, of course we do not know what will happen, but sometimes we need to take decisions or do some sort of planning for the future and I find it almost unbearable.

I have improved over time, I can now think beyond the next minute, beyond the next hour, beyond the next week, sometimes even beyond the next month or months without being gripped by terror, slowly I have regained the future.  But I still feel as though I am surviving, not living and at present I am wrestling with how to live, how my future should look, what I should do with what I have and what I do not have.  It is an unsettling process, stirring me up inside, a hard process after such a long time of simply not wanting to be alive.  I am trying to accept life.

The worst thing about the fear is the feeling that I have failed God, my loving Father, He has said time and time again “Do not fear, do not be afraid”, and yet... somehow I cannot trust Him.  I feel ashamed and hate my lack of trust and faith, my failure to obey, to believe that He is sovereign and knows my future (Psalm 139) and that He will never leave me (Hebrews 13).

In the light of this failure I find the prayer in Mark 9.24 a help and a heart's cry, “I believe; help my unbelief!”.  God is gracious and there have been times in the middle of the terror and panic when He has been so close and has calmed me, at least my fear keeps me coming to Him for help.

Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.  Forgive my lack of trust and help my trust in you to grow as I come to you in the storms.  Be with me, strengthen my feeble knees and weak hands, be with me in the fear and help me to overcome.  Be with those who also fear.  Amen

"Jesus said... “Do not fear, only believe,” Mark 5.36

Trust

On days when it is fine enough one of my greatest pleasures is sitting out in the garden.  Over time I have found that if I am quiet and relatively still the birds who frequent the garden gradually begin to trust that I will not hurt them and start to come closer.  It will begin with a rustle in a tree or perhaps in the holly bush just to the left of the bench.  There are little twitterings, whispers and clicking sounds as they consider me and wonder if it is safe to venture to the seed feeders.  Then one adventurous soul, generally one of the robins - they are the boldest of our garden birds - will break cover for a moment, grab a piece of seed and retire with it.



The robin often loves company and will come to see what I am doing, there will be scufflings in the holly bush and a beady eye will peak out and sing softly.  Of course his favourite time of all is when my father is out gardening, he and his partner have spent entire afternoons following him around within inches, sometimes getting perilously close to the spade or fork as my father digs.  Over time I have learned to tell the two robins apart by their behaviour, for example the less bold of them hovers close to things rather than land and this robin also likes to fly across the garden narrowly avoiding my head to announce his or her presence.  Our current robin's new trick is to bring whatever he has found, small grubs, caterpillars and the like to show us, before flying off to eat them or take them to his nestlings.

The day before yesterday one of the robin even had a bath while I was standing a couple of feet away, a sign of trust that brought me such joy.  Indeed it has struck me that perhaps this is how God feels about us when we trust Him?  When we dare to approach, or show Him something we have done or just come to see what He is doing, does He feel that same joy? Is my joy at the robin's trust and company a small echo of what happens in God's heart when we come to Him and trust Him?  I do hope so.  Certainly it makes me more determined than ever to try to trust God more and to keep coming to my Father.

Facing failure

Some days, some weeks even, I feel like a failure: an utter, miserable, lowest of the low, out and out failure.  Now is one of those times.  Life seems dismal, I feel frustrated by my own ability to make the same mistakes again and again and I feel stuck.  Prayer is hard, a fight and a battle, to focus, to find the words, even sitting quietly before God is a challenge.  I find myself not wanting to pray, which is a feeling I hate.  I hate that I do not want to spend time with God and hate how that must make Him feel.  The world seems like a bleak place and change seems impossible.

I am trying to persevere, as the Bible urges us to again and again, but it feels so hard and yet in saying that I feel like such a wimp.  Surely I knew before I began that following Jesus was hard?  He warns of it, "Whoever does not take up their cross and follow me is not worthy of me." (Matthew 10) and "In this world you will have trouble." (John 16).  So why do I moan and whine and protest when things are hard?

I find it so hard to put aside my pride and admit that I cannot do this on my own, to accept my own inadequacy and that ultimately I cannot save myself.  It is at this point that I turn again to Jesus, to the cross, to give in to grace, something so simple, yet so hard.

But I still admit that I cannot yet rejoice in trials and sufferings, although I can overall see the good that has been coming out of the hard times.  Sometimes the hard times are when I am closest to God, but the hardest hard times are when I find it hard to approach God and when my sense of failure becomes overwhelming.

Father help me to persevere.
Forgive me my failings.
Thank you for the cross.
Help me.
Help me to find strength in my weakness.

Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12) 

52 Weeks of Happy - Week 8

Posting a day late this week because I have been a little (more) under the weather (than usual), nothing major, just a low level virus I think but enough to be annoying and make me even more tired.  It is also increasing my brain fog so that I am finding it hard to think clearly or focus on things at times and I have felt a bit down about it at times.  However, I am trying not to let this take over, so I am writing this post for a start, although I do not appear to have taken many or any photographs this week so you will have to excuse the blog's dull appearance for a bit.

1. Talking - talking to someone wise with whom you feel safe to say how you really feel and who makes you feel like you are not doing so badly after all.  The sort of conversation that leaves you with a lot to take in, think about and pray over.  Oh that there were more people like this in the world and oh that I could help others in the same way one day.  Such a precious opportunity.


From a previous year but still delightfully sunny.

2. Potato farls - where have these been all my life?  They feel like the perfect food for this grimly cold weather.  I got the recipe from this brilliant feature in The Observer by Miss South of the blog North/South Food, not only is the recipe simple and effective, there are a number of the other recipes on my "to try" list and the piece is thoughtful, thought-provoking and well written.  Do go and read it, then try the recipes.

3. A gentle, silly film - this time a 1970s film-of-a-sitcom: Bless this House starring Sid James (who also came up last week), which was on Film 4 this week and is bound to be on again.  It was just right for an afternoon on the sofa knitting.  I am considering checking out the original sitcom.


Again not this year's, but I am beginning to see snowdrops and crocuses and must get some photos of the primroses.

4. Friends - I have been lucky enough this week to have a couple of social engagements, which I managed to fulfil despite feeling under par, and there really is nothing like sitting around a table eating and talking.  I can see why Jesus is so often found eating with people in the Gospels, be it up mountains, beside lakes or after inviting himself to someone's house, it can be one of the best ways of getting to know people and deepening relationships.  There is a special warmth and vulnerability to sitting down to eat together, like the Vikings leaving their weapons at the door when they sat down to eat or King Priam going to eat with Achilles when he goes to him to ask for Hector's body back in the Iliad.  What made this dinner even nicer was that it was utterly unexpected, my neighbour called around and invited me that afternoon.

My other social occasion this week was having coffee with a knitting friend, a form of socialising I enjoy very much and we had a good chat about stranded colour work and other knitterly topics of conversation.

So, on with the rest I think.

52 Weeks of Happy - week 6

Six weeks into this 52 weeks of happy, goodness me, never thought I'd last this far.  It has not been a bad week, not too bad anyhow, although I have been struggling to relax and sleep.  I keep meaning to write other blog posts and they keep not happening.  Today I do not feel especially positive, so coming up with four things to be positive about is a good exercise, hopefully it will help my head see that there are positive things going on, help me not to miss them.

1. A kind thought and a great quotation - a kind friend sent me a lovely cotton bag she had got on a weekend away in Sheffield, with the following quotation on it "It is impossible to be angry when looking at a penguin", from of all people, John Ruskin.  I would love to know what the origin is of this statement, I had always associated Mr Ruskin with serious matters, not penguins.  The bag has two rather gorgeous penguins following in one another's footsteps and it put a big smile on my face.  Naturally it already has some knitting in it.



2. Cabin Pressure - the radio 4 show, which each week keeps me in stitches, laughing so hard the whole house can hear, if not next door as well.  John Finnemore is a brilliant writer, mixing wordplay, situation and plain silliness into a superb and closely packed half hour.  Go and listen on iplayer while you can - the last in the series is next Wednesday at 6.30.  I realise now that I should have mentioned this sooner, before the series was nearly over, however, you can catch up with the previous series on audible most reasonably.

3. Continuing promise of spring - the buds on our wild cherry twigs are breaking and gorgeous green leaves emerging, hopefully there will soon be flowers.  They are rather hard to photograph though.



4. Prayer - I would not have made it through the week without prayer, both mine and other people's.  Sometimes it is talking things over, sometimes sitting in peace, with some liturgy in between.  Prayer helps me to keep my stress and anxiety levels manageable, my mood more stable, and helps me and others in so many ways.  I am so grateful to God for this gift and that He cares about us and our daily lives, that He is interested and wants to hear from us, no matter how small or big the problem.  Through prayer God is teaching me to rely on Him and how infinitely gracious He is.  For example, if I cannot find something I try to remember to pray, before tearing the house apart looking, as I find searching for things so tiring and they do generally appear after I have prayed, sometimes almost at once, sometimes a little while later, but they do.  Through watching Him answer prayers on a small scale I find I can learn to trust Him more for the big things.

Prayer also helps me to feel less useless within the church - I may not be able to do much else for my church and for the wider church, but I can pray.  It is so good to have others pray for me too, sometimes it is easier to pray for someone else than it is for yourself and in the past a good friend and I have arranged to pray for one another that day rather than struggle with prayer for ourselves.  I love how God equips us to help one another and love one another.

Time to try to relax and get some sleep now I suppose.

A belated Merry Christmas

Life has rushed by in a whoosh over the past week or so, leaving me no opportunity to post.  So it is a belated Merry Christmas, I hope it has been a peaceful and enjoyable time, however you've spent it.  We have had a quiet, but nice time and my hand knits have been well received.  I think I will blog again this week  about them and show you the pictures I could not show before.



For my sister, who cannot eat Christmas Pudding, I made a Summer Fruits Pudding, using a recipe by Jane Grigson, from her book English Food, a volume I shall be exploring more fully this year.  I was somewhat nervous about it, never having made it before but it was well received and came out of its basin smoothly.  Indeed I have a feeling I will be making this for my sister again, which is no problem as it is little bother to put together and is the same shape as Christmas pudding - my dad even stuck a spring of holly in it.



Although I have had less time than I would have liked for reflection I did find two points very comforting, the first being that the King is coming and that He will come again, simple but true.  The second being most comforted by parts of Isaiah 9, in particular verse seven:

Of the increase of his government and peace
    there will be no end.

God's kingdom is coming here on earth and it is growing and will increase without end.  Amidst all the war, violence and trouble of this world this is a valuable promise.

In fact it seems I cannot count - I said two points - there were other, related verses that have helped and encouraged me this Christmas.  While I was reading the Nativity stories in Matthew and Luke I also looked up some of the Old Testament passages that were quoted, to read them in their context and find out more about them and why they were quoted.  Micah 5.7-8 encouraged and comforted me so much:

He will stand and shepherd his flock
    in the strength of the Lord,
    in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God.
And they will live securely, for then his greatness
    will reach to the ends of the earth.
      And he will be their peace.

Lastly I've been loving this version of Come Thou Long Expected Jesus by Kings Kaleidoscope - do have a listen, or just read the words.

A blogger's miscellany

1. I'm aware it's been a while since I last posted, unfortunately I haven't been too well, I overdid things somewhat and then muddled up the date of my flu jab and turned up 24 hours too early.  This lead to me missing sleep to get up early two days running which is what finished me.  It seems that despite more than 12 years' practice I still haven't quite got the pacing thing quite right.

In order to combat my disorganisation I have purchased a diary for the coming year, it's simple, small but stylish and a great cheerful colour.


2. I have been enjoying this song a lot lately, it is simple but full of hope


3. I have done a lot of knitting lately but most of it is secret Christmas knitting, which I can't show on here just in case.  In between I have been doing some small ornaments though such as the small jumper below.  I'm also having a go at the adorable mini snowman from Mochimochiland's miniatures' collection.


4. I'm very excited about Kate Davies' forthcoming book The Colours of Shetland and am looking forward to knitting the shawl shown at the top of her blog and in the meantime am planning to knit her pattern which came out today - Snawheid hat, .  You can see her adorable dog Bruce helping with the photographs of the hat here.

I'll try not to let it be quite so long before the next post.

What I pray my church will be

Recently while praying for my church I scribbled down a list of attributes I pray my church and the church more widely will have and will further develop, suitably enough on the back of an envelope.  Then I lost the envelope for a few weeks'.

As I have now found it again I thought I would post the list here, in the order in which I wrote it down, in the hopes that it would prove helpful to you as you pray for your church and our church.  Of course the list is not comprehensive, but I hope and pray it can be a place to start from.  I dearly love the church, it is a wonderful concept, the body of Christ, a series of loving relationships changing the world, working through the world like yeast through flour, to make all things new.

Let us pray.


What I pray my church will be:

Founded in Christ – our sure foundation

welcoming, open

a window on another world

learning from the past but not bound by it

preaching the Gospel
boasting in Christ crucified

loving

discipling one another

one as He is one

of pure heart

full of joy in Him

a lamp on a lampstand, a city on a hill, shining for all to see

full of peace

fellowship

different

genuine

a place of healing

a place of prayer for all the nations

Amen.

I will leave you with this song I discovered yesterday, which is a tremendous encouragement to pray.

A variety of works in progress

The past couple of weeks life has conspired against me managing to blog. I overdid things and then lots of stuff's been happening, mostly good stuff, socialising and the like, but I just have not had a chance to recover. Hopefully in the next couple of weeks I can recover and rest. So the works in progress I've missed writing about?

First some socks, dragonfly socks in the "Monet" shade from Colinette Jitterbug, lovely fabric, but I will be washing them with some trepidation as I have had a lot of trouble with their colours running in the past. But for now I am enjoying knitting them up. It is one of those patterns you can pick up fairly easily, but that has enough to keep your interest as you knit.

Secondly a baby cardigan, in a fabulously spring-like shade of Zauberball 6 ply. I'm reprising February Baby Sweater from Elizabeth Zimmermann's classic book The Knitters' Almanac, one of those books well worth purchasing simply to read, as well as containing some great patterns. I like this cardigan because the babies pictured wearing it on ravelry look happy in it, relaxed and comfortable and also because it seems flexible in sizing, fitting for quite a while, which given how fast babies can grow, is always a bonus.

Today, Good Friday, has also reminded me of a more serious "work in progress": me. I am so thankful for Jesus, because without Him I would be lost, eternally and in the here and now. I am so thankful that He loves me just as I am, messy, untidy, unfinished, constantly making mistakes: endlessly forgiven.

Monk, not Thelonious

Life with Jesus can contain surprises; you think of yourself as a certain sort of person, or certain sort of Christian, then find yourself doing or becoming someone different. Not changing who you are entirely, still being yourself, but doing things differently.

Lately in my life the change has been liturgy. I started off as a Christian in churches with no or minimal liturgy; it was something fairly dull and meaningless we had recited at school, something old and fusty, not me at all. Then I found myself going to an Anglican church, re-encountering liturgy, getting occasional glimpses of the sense of oneness it brought to us all as we prayed as one, but still not sure about it on the whole. Gradually as I have got used to the form of the service of Home Communion I have grown to love it, the reminders of who we are and who God is and how we relate.

So recently, while searching for ways to pray more regularly and with more discipline I decided to take a look at the Northumbria Community's website to see if they had any resources which might help me and there I found their daily offices, the prayers they say daily which form the rhythm of their daily life. I went to them because of what a friend from university, whose parents live there, had told me about it and because I had been impressed by the sense of peace that radiated from his parents when I had met them. Initially when I had been praying about how to pray, which sounds odd, but made sense at the time, I thought perhaps I would experiment with some different methods and types of prayer, but since I started praying the daily offices about a week and a half ago I have not stopped, neither do I want to.

Praying the morning and evening prayer (I have not yet managed to fit in the midday prayer), though sometimes at odd times, has given me a rhythm of times when I stop and spend time with God. The words are growing on me, helping ingrain Jesus and God's promises within me, reminding me of them and giving me a structure for the times I spend with God. There is space for my own prayers and short, digestible Bible readings. After I have prayed the morning or evening office I feel peaceful and calm, it is strengthening my ability to see things with the eyes of faith and not feel so overwhelmed by the world around me.

Most immediately helpful has been Compline, the short prayer said last thing in the evening. Since starting to say this prayer I have found that I have had fewer problems getting to sleep, which is a real relief. There is a different one for each day of the week, but they centre around praying for God's peace as we sleep, something I always need.

I am grateful to God for the generous gift the Northumbria Community have made in sharing their Daily Offices and also that He has helped me gain the discipline of following them, I pray I may continue to grow and develop in prayer. None of this has come easily so far, I have been asking God, in my somewhat haphazard prayer, fitted in among and during other things, that I might pray better and spend more time with Him for quite a while. It is well worth persisting in prayer, even if it does not immediately appear to be answered, keep asking and trusting.

And so on with the adventure and change.

Here is one of my favourite parts of the morning prayer, to give you a taste:

Christ, as a light

illumine and guide me.

Christ, as a shield overshadow me.

Christ under me;

Christ over me;

Christ beside me

on my left and my right.

This day be within and without me,

lowly and meek, yet all-powerful.

Be in the heart of each to whom I speak;

in the mouth of each who speaks unto me.

This day be within and without me,

lowly and meek, yet all-powerful.

Christ as a light;

Christ as a shield;

Christ beside me

on my left and my right.

Amen