Mustard Seeds

"Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." Matthew 17.20

This week I have mainly been listening to a new album called Mustard Seeds, which is extremely awesome. Click on that link, get listening then read on!

At this point I should probably declare that I know the musician behind the album from university, I liked his music then and I like it now. The songs are both musically and lyrically strong and musically more interesting than a lot of the Christian music on the market, which can all sound rather homogeneous. Musically the songs are at times resonant of Nick Drake, at other times calling to mind church music of a more traditional and even ancient kind - harmonies hinting at cathedrals filled with Gregorian chant. The sound and scale of the album is quiet and intimate, allowing you to draw near to God and spend precious time in His presence, yet would also work in a more corporate setting. In the lyrics are some great promises and some great prayers, for example,

May your grace reform this church from a crowd of sinners to a holy loving force with your pow'r within us. May we yearn to serve and may we love with fervent hearts by grace restored.

Such a fabulous picture of what the church is and is becoming (from Designer, Refiner).

Rather than attempt to review the whole album I will just focus on the last song, To the God of the Broken Ones which has resonated with me and my life hugely.

To the God of the broken ones,
To the God where all hope comes from,
We sing come heal us, come heal us

To the God who is always there,
To the God who heals ev'ry prayer,
We sing come heal us, come heal us

Ever loving, ever Lord.
Ever faithful, ever more.
Ever gentle, ever sure.
I'm ever thankful, ever yours

To the God of unending hope,
To the God who calls us his own,
We sing come heal us, come heal us

To the God who will never change,
To the God who knows ev'ry pain,
We sing come heal us, come heal us

Ever loving, ever Lord.
Ever faithful, ever more.
Ever gentle, ever sure.
I'm ever thankful, ever yours

I love the rich promises and truths about who our God is that are contained within this song: truths that I can't hear too often, especially as it is such truths that help combat the lies of depression. My favourite of these promises and truths is "the God of unending hope" (which is really both a truth and a promise). In the midst of the storms of life it is so easy to forget that ultimately our hope lies in God himself and that He never changes, never leaves us, always loves us. This is a song that I sing as a prayer for my own life, as well as more generally for the church and the world. Moreover it is song that you can sing from wherever you happen to be, whether things are going well or whether nothing is going well, "yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my saviour" (Habbakuk 3). As someone who frequently feels like nothing is going right I truly value such songs that help me to worship despite my circumstances, because the truth is God is always good and I need more of the truth.

I have found this album cheering, uplifting, calming, comforting and inspiring; I pray you do too.

Achievements

Today I had a most exciting letter - to say that I was a runner up in Knitting magazine's "design a scarf" competition and that they wanted to print my pattern in their upcoming book of scarves!!!!!! I was so excited when I had read the letter that I was dancing around the kitchen in my pjs celebrating. Good thing the neighbours were out at the time. Pictures are available here

It means so much because I finally have an identity beyond that of a sick person, or a sick person who does a bit of knitting. I know such things don't really matter and shouldn't matter, but sometimes my ego gets in the way and memories of all my dreams and plans come back and I want more. I know being God's beloved child is infinitely more important, but I do like having a tiny bit extra. Perhaps it's the first step on the road to achieving things despite having ME and fibro?

In other news I also finished knitting the hat I've been designing to go with the scarf, just got the ends to sew in and the blocking to do and I can send that off (for the "knit a hat" competition). I'm rather relieved that this month's competition was for designing a draught excluder, since I feel no urge to design such a thing and so can have a break from manic designing! Deadlines are hard work with ME, you would have thought I would have learned that at university?

I also darned socks successfully for the first time today, my monkey socks which being knit in a pure wool with no nylon, had worn through on the heels. So all in all, apart from a slight crash (note to self - just because you have a few days of feeling a bit better don't try to cram everything you've been wanting/meaning/needing to do into those few days, it doesn't end well), today has been a good day. Praise the Lord.

The anchor of my soul

A few weeks ago I watched a sermon DVD by Louie Giglio lent me by my lovely friend Becca and in it he was talking about how Jesus is the anchor of our soul (Hebrews 6). As he was talking about this I looked down at my knitting, sitting untouched on the sofa beside me, and the anchors worked in fair isle in the scarf I was knitting caught my eye. That 'God-incidence' made me smile, especially as the anchor motif and its surrounding peeries had caused me more trouble than any of the others put together.

Over the past few weeks, which have been full of ups and downs (mainly in my mood) and felt turbulent and difficult, I can really say that although I feel like I am thoroughly at sea, Jesus really is the anchor of my soul. Throughout, no matter how difficult things have been, no matter how horrible I've felt or how angry I've been towards God over the past few weeks, He has never let me down or left me alone or abandoned me.

"When my heart was grieved
and my spirit embittered,
I was senseless and ignorant;
I was a brute beast before you.

"Yet I am always with you;
you hold me by my right hand.
You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will take me into glory.
Whom have I in heaven but you?
And earth has nothing I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever" Psalm 73.21-6

He is always there, always with me, always patient, always loving, always kind, always ready to listen, utterly reliable. He answers prayers, He does not leave me, does not grow short of patience, even when I run out of patience with myself! He is true, faithful, unchanging, unshifting in a world full of shifting shadows. I can see why the Psalmists so often called Him "my rock".

Don't assume from this that everything is absolutely fine and sorted in my life, it isn't, not by such a long way. I'm still ill, still depressed at times, though my moods are gradually regaining some sort of stability. I still get scared for the future and anxious and bored now; I still feel terribly sad that I can't be at church. But somehow Jesus brings into this situation, when I allow Him, inexpressible love, utter forgiveness, complete acceptance of me the way I am, comfort and some glimmer of hope: a promise that things won't always be this way and I know that He keeps His promises. I suppose that's what faith is?

Of course there are times when I don't feel this way, when I don't feel remotely positive and praying feels like beating my fists against a brick wall and I feel a million miles away from God. But these are only feelings and hopefully by writing down the truth and by reading the treasury of truth - the Bible - I can remind myself of this, remind myself of the facts.

"Because God wanted to make the unchanging nature of his purpose very clear to the heirs of what was promised, he confirmed it with an oath. God did this so that, by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled to take hold of the hope set before us may be greatly encouraged. We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek." Hebrews 6.17-20

News from another world

Tonight I achieved my dearly held wish to make it to church for at least part of the prayer week. I'd forgotten how big our church building is - it has magnificent wooden roof beams on a scale that would today be prohibitively expensive.

God was deliciously, gloriously close and I really felt His love and Him with me, especially during the singing and the time of corporate prayer. Though I'm not sure I really know how to worship with others any more, it felt a bit strange, I suppose just from lack of practice, I'm not used to other people being there too.

I suppose I'm feeling so down and flat now because for a while I dared to dream and be part of another world that I don't usually have much contact with, then I got home and realised that I still wasn't part of that world and everything is still the same. It is like when you watch a movie and get caught up in the world of that movie; then it ends and you come back down to earth. For a while this evening, before fatigue, fever, panic and the tiles on the chancel floor making me feel seasick and weird brought me back down to earth, I dared to dream that maybe I was well enough for church. For about 15 minutes I felt fine, great even, I managed to stand through two whole songs and for a little while after that! But before I'd been out of the house two hours I was struggling to focus and stay awake and feeling physically bizarre (there is no other word for it).

The glimpse of the lives other people live didn't help either, I'm finding that the more I compare my life with that of other people the worse I feel about myself. It was yet another reminder that the church doesn't seem to have a lot of use for the ill or disabled, in order to serve in the church you need not only to be well, but turbo charged. And yes, I know how bitter that sounds. I know I need to stop comparing myself with others, for a start it's not comparing like with like. If I take life slowly and focus on each moment at a time, on the things I can do, then I can sometimes achieve some sort of contentment.

Sorry that there has been so much soul-searching on here lately: I've been having a very confusing time, quite turbulent inwardly and I don't have anyone to talk it over with, who I know and trust well enough and see anything of to talk about such things. And there has been so much inner turbulence and instability of mood that it wouldn't be fair to inflict it all on one person (though Catherine has stoically put up with plenty of it!). I think I shall start a private diary for matters spiritual, but still share some of what goes on here, partly to encourage and partly to educate anyone reading this about what it is like to be trying to survive as a sick Christian, or to make any fellow travellers feel less alone.

In the meantime I'm trying to salvage the good from the wreckage of tonight, wishing my mood were more stable and trying to ignore how much more of 'an ill person' the experience made me feel. Most of all I want to focus on God and how good He is, in spite of what a mess I am.

Wish I were there

Right now I'm feeling torn to pieces inside because there are all these wonderful things happening at church - prayer, communal meals, worship, fellowship in so many different shapes and forms - and I'm stuck here, out of it, hurting all over and so tired the ground feels like it's dragging me down. And I want to yell at God because He could make me well enough to go and He isn't and I could just cry and cry but I've got, somehow, to find a way of accepting the situation and keep on trusting Him.

The alternative is to keep hugging the anger and hurt to me and not do anything positive and keep on wallowing in negativity. After all there's nothing to say that you have to be in a particular place or even with particular people to pray for your church (or for anything else). So not being able to make it to church isn't such a disaster, true the fellowship is better there than in an empty room, but God's always here, He never goes away and we don't have to go to a particular place to meet Him.

Bizarrely just the act of writing this down, getting it off my chest, has made me feel significantly better. Letting things get pent up inside doesn't help, I'm becoming increasingly aware of that. Of late I've been so angry about things, just about being ill and my general situation and I don't know how to handle it, what to do with it, how to be less angry. Hopefully it will pass or ease soon as the side effects from those pills gradually wear off and my mood settles down again, but it could take some months to restore equilibrium - it was only a very delicate equilibrium in the first place and one that took years to achieve. In the meantime I suppose I just have to put up with the sheer instability of my moods and their tendency to plummet to the depths of despair in minutes. Sometimes I worry that I must look or come across as utterly mad.

I suppose tomorrow I've just got to find a way of glorifying God within the constraints He has put upon me, rinse, lather and repeat the next day and the next and the next. Walking (or more realistically limping) with Christ and trying to learn to trust Him.

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8.28*


*please note: although I've quoted this verse here do not think that quoting it to a Christian who is going through hard times is a solve all. Having it quoted at you when things are tough by all and sundry without thought or any other form of encouragement can get extremely irksome.

Shelter

Another song today, about church and what church is and can be.

Shelter - Jars of Clay

To all who are looking down
Holding onto hearts still wounding
For those who've yet to find it
The places near where love is moving
Cast off the robes you're wearing
Set aside the names you've been given

May this place of rest in the fold of your journey
Bind you to hope, you will never walk alone.

In the shelter of each other, we will live, we will live
In the shelter of each other, we will live, we will live
Your arms are all around us

If our hearts have turned to stone
There is hope, we know the rocks will cry out
And the tears aren't ours alone
Let them fall into the hands that hold us
Come away from where you're hiding
Set aside the lies you've been living

May this place of rest in the fold of your journey
Bind you to hope that we will never walk alone

If there is any peace, if there is any hope
We must all believe, our lives are not our own

We all belong
God has given us each other
And we will never walk alone

I particularly love the lines,
"May this place of rest in the fold of your journey
Bind you to hope that we will never walk alone"
And the way it expresses the idea of "the body of Christ" in a new way.

While it is true that we each have Jesus with us every single hour of every single day of our lives, sometimes we need to be His hands and feet, His tangible body here on earth, for one another and accepting that help from one another as each has need. It's why the writer of Hebrews exhorts us, "Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching." (Hebrews 10.25 NIV), because we need to support one another while we are here. Likewise it is why in his book Where is God When Life Hurts? Philip Yancey concludes that the question we should really ask is "Where is the church when life hurts?". The body of Christ is such a fabulous idea, a refuge from an often hostile world, a place where everyone counts and belongs, where Jesus is the life and the Spirit and the pumping heart and creator and the centre, where restoration, love, hope, forgiveness and grace can flourish and flood out into the world. I pray that my membership doesn't impede the work of Jesus in His body and that despite being so broken myself I can be shelter for others, as they shelter me.

"The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms" Deuteronomy 33.27

"A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." John 13.34-5

The hall of mirrors

Or which image is real? Unpicking the tangles in my brain.

I've been doing a lot of thinking this week, though I can't say I've got far. Right now I feel like I've just emerged (or am just emerging?) from a hall of mirrors at the fair, where it's never clear which image is reality and everything is distorted and bewildering.

For a start I've realised a couple of things I need to work on, anxiety would be the first one as it is apparently still well and flourishing. There is no way that worrying yourself to a point of near physical sickness over sending an email is normal, neither are "stress nosebleeds". As another DWP appeal looms I do need to get an urgent grip on this; I don't want to end up in the state I was in last time. Though as a side note I am constantly amazed by the fresh and inventive ways that my body comes up with in order to express anxiety, most creative.

The other is that I need to let go of past hurts, trite and hackneyed as that sounds. There are old wounds, some healed, some not quite so healed, that I keep revisiting and picking over like a child picks at its blister and that needs to stop. It's pointless, it's like my mind running round and round on well worn railway tracks getting nowhere except to keep the old hurts and wounds of the past alive. Or rather it serves no positive point, it keeps negative feelings hanging around and allows me to feel like the poor wounded soul, ideal fodder for a pity party. However, the reason I called the phrase "let go" trite is because although it sounds simple I don't entirely know how to do it. Prayer seems like a good first option (it generally is after all) and I suspect that this one is going to require some real wrestling. Stopping myself (and asking the Holy Spirit to prompt me) every time I start to revisit these dark but familiar old haunts also seems like a good option.

Meanwhile the church is looking different to how it looked a couple of weeks ago. Then it looked like a fortress, without any means of ingress, moat, sheer walls, draw bridge drawn firmly up and portcullis down. It felt like you were either cosily in the church, part of things, or utterly outside and on your own. Now at least this blog seems to have blown a small hole in the walls; when I couldn't work out where to begin trying to find an entrance. Hopefully things will be better from here, though it still tears me apart inside that I can't be more involved, can't be there - the guilt every time someone asks for volunteers at life group is terrible. But that's just how things are, not anyone's fault, something I need to learn to live with.

Another thing I have realised, from things various people have said, is that the difference between the person I see as me and in me and the person other people seem to see or say they see is startling. I cannot help seeing the utter blackness inside me, seeing the self obsession, greed, pride, general wimpishness, moaning, self pity etc. etc. I hate all this in me. I am trying to remember grace, to remember the cross, to remember that we are all sinners in need of forgiveness. But at the same time I can't help seeing myself as a self pitying attention seeker. That label keeps ringing in my ears: attention seeker, or attention seeking. When I was so so depressed I ended up so worried about not attention seeking, or not trying to seek help in an attention seeking manipulative sort of way and it worries me now, what if I'm just attention seeking? Maybe I should just keep quiet. I don't even know where to begin to untangle that lot or know what to do with it. That's what I mean about the hall of mirrors, it's so hard knowing what is true and what is distortion.

But as, for some peculiar reason, God does seem to love me and want to know me and want me to know Him, then I want to "follow on to know the Lord" (Hosea 6.3 KJV, via J. Rees Larcombe, Journey into God's Heart). It's always good to have a goal, right? And that's one I want to re-commit to.

A final thought, in the form of a "Not-poem"

A little girl is knock knock knocking on heaven's door,
Asking when she can come home;
Listening to her Father say, "Not yet my beloved child."