Just Following

It was a typical Sunday morning as we prepared to simply gather together, watch the next episode of “The Chosen” and share with each other about what challenged us in that episode. It is always so confronting, moving and inspiring no matter what age you are. 

However, at 9:50am, a woman walked into the building; dishevelled, broken and lost. She was in deep grief. Her best friend had died 5 days earlier and she was not coping. We brought her in, sat her down and allowed her to fall apart. She shared of driving aimlessly around, considering options of ending her life, utter confusion and deep distress.  That morning, something led her to turn into our driveway and to walk into the church building and fall apart. She was met by a psychologist/counsellor who knew to let her talk, cry and share. With this gentleness she was able to be herself. As people began to come into the building, they quickly sensed what was needed and took themselves into the kitchen and other places to allow this woman the safe space she was searching for. 

 

Everything planned for that morning was halted as God had other plans for this little faithful community in Wollongong. We were simply required to offer an empathetic ear, tissues and to cry with her as she shared how she couldn’t see past this moment or how she was going to get through life without her only true friend. The grief was debilitating and so many of us have been in that moment. There were no answers, just the requirement to be present. It is all we could offer. We prayed with her for ‘peace’, gave some practical help in the moment and she went on her way. 

 

As people poured out of the kitchen to ‘mill’ and continue the morning, we felt privileged that this woman had felt safe enough to walk in and allow us to sit with her in her grief. And that we were flexible enough to put everything we had planned on hold to be what she needed in that moment.

 

The episode we watched unfolded many parallels to what had just played out in our small community that morning.   Jesus was walking away from a big city where Mary of Magdala had been turned away from entering the temple, her distress ignored, and so they headed into a small town on Sabbath. Jesus was sharing with his disciples about how he was over the big towns and religious rules and was hoping to find something different in the small town. As they walked into the temple the rabbi was reading the scripture. Jesus stopped all that was happening as he saw a man, broken and alone with a withered hand. Jesus walked up to him and healed the withered hand and then walked out, while the Pharisees were indignant and angry about the disruption and breaking of all the rules of Sabbath and the program that was planned in the temple that day. (Mark 3:1-6)

 

“The sabbath was made to serve us; we weren’t made to serve the sabbath”

(Mark 2:28)

 

I couldn’t help but wonder how many church services and structures even today would allow ALL to stop and focus on one who needed the most healing and hope.  Even if the church wanted to care for such a person, would they be taken to a quieter room, while the service got started and most people got on with the planned program for the morning?  Here in our little community, as with Jesus in the small temple, everything stopped, everyone else went to the quieter room and allowed this woman to be the main thing, have the main focus. And our people graciously and lovingly knew it was the most important thing, unlike the Pharisees.   

 

The question came in the discussion after the watching the episode, “Who are we most like, the Pharisees or Jesus?”  One of our most humble and wisest women answered, “it depends on the day and the time. We certainly know what it feels like to act like the Pharisees”. We are all aware of our inadequateness. However, today, as a community we had been Jesus to this woman. 

 

In this moment, on this day we had been able to, even when we felt we had very little to give, to show ‘love’ to this broken lady.  Who knows where she would be now if we weren’t there and able to be present for her in her desperate time of need?  God was gracious in that day to show us that ‘small’ may feel like ‘failure’ by Church standards today, but not by God’s standards.  He is looking for the faithful, the ones willing to step into His agenda, rather than ours. He is looking for people who are looking for a ‘spirituality’ rather than ‘religiosity’. He doesn’t care about the building, the program, the performance, the rules, the runsheet, the sound, the lights, even the sermon. Jesus on that day, interrupted the Rabbi at the front preaching the sermon and made it clear that they had missed the most important thing at that moment. On this day, He let our community know we were His. He reminded us that everyone who walked into that space, no matter what the plan was, needed to know that in that day. It is so easy to compare, question, wonder why! Our small community has been through much loss and pain and yet as we continue to be faithful, and show up, He continues to show us, as Jesus did with His small band of followers, that is all He asks.

 

There was a conversation between the ‘sons of thunder’ (two brothers)  on that episode that day. They were discussing how bewildered they were feeling as they were looking around at their small, unique and very different band of men and woman called the “disciples”.  One said to the other,

 

            “I don’t understand most of this, maybe, bits and pieces here and there, 

but mostly I am just following.”  (The Chosen, Season 2, Episode 6)

 

It struck me, I know this is how I feel most days. However, today I am thankful that I get to do life with a small, unique and very different band of men and woman called “ICentral”. We are just following and thank God it is all He calls us to do. 

I encourage you if you haven't seen it to watch the series "The Chosen".

https://watch.angelstudios.com/thechosen

 

The things you learn when you have no 'wifi" - Part 2

As I ventured out to explore New Zealand recently in a van, I discovered that I didn’t have access to the “wifi” in the way I expected to. This meant that the many ways I was so used to connecting with people were now cut off for me. Yes, I could have paid a premium for the privilege, but was on a budget, so I decided to see if I could travel around NZ without having “wifi” at my fingertips. We rely on it for navigation, music, booking accommodation, finding petrol and food stops, weather, booking attractions and general communication. So, this was my challenge, to live simply and see what I could discover. 

 

There was a lot I didn’t miss, but I realised how much difference a few days can make in the world. Interestingly, I reconnected after a while to find that Australia had a new prime minister. But for me, more importantly, it is so nice to connect with my loved ones. With no ‘wifi’ most of the time, when I was able to find free wifi, it was often limited.  It was really important to know how to make the most of the small amount of data you might get. I loved stopping at a café along the road, with no idea where I was, to zoom in with some special friends for a chat. It was such a blessing. I know connection is important, especially when it is limited, and you feel like you might not be able to do it again for a while.  The nights were the hardest alone, I must admit. I sat in a petrol station in the dark at 9pm one night, at 2 degrees temperature, just to connect with my kids and my mum. I was glad I could and I appreciated it so much more because it wasn’t an easy thing to do and was the only way to connect for a short time. 

 

Mostly, when you disconnect from “wifi” and that fast pace of the “ping”, it helps you slow down. Sometimes the space and the silence can be scary, but it is so important to allow the silence and slow pace to lead you. 

 

“The Lord will fight for you, you need only to be still”. Exodus 14:14

 

 I feel like He has been trying to teach me this for a long time now. I know I have been guilty of filling the silence with sound and activity, in order to numb my mind from thinking, processing and feeling at times. But on this trip, I needed to engage in that space, slow down and allow God to heal me in those quiet places. To allow the gaps for God to speak into. He is my safe place and has been my shelter in the storms, so I am thankful for the time I choose to spend with my Father in Heaven.  

 

Ps 37

5 Open up before God, keep nothing back;

    he’ll do whatever needs to be done:

⁷ Quiet down before God,

    be prayerful before him.

 

34 Wait passionately for God,

    don’t leave the path.

He’ll give you your place in the sun

 

37 Keep your eye on the healthy soul,

    scrutinize the straight life;

 

39-40 The spacious, free life is from God,

    it’s also protected and safe.

God-strengthened, we’re delivered from evil—

    when we run to him, he saves us.

 

 

Connection is the key to life. But knowing what to connect to, when to connect and who to stay connected to is so vital for life to the full. So, when it is limited and hard to find, who do you most want to connect with?  Where do you run and find comfort and healing?   Who is it that you want to share with about the things you have experienced and seen along the journey that day? We all need those people in our lives and we need to make them a priority. We need to be brave enough to cut out all the nonsense voices that don’t matter and send us off on paths that lead nowhere. 

 

The van life with no ‘wifi’ certainly breaks down what is ‘really’ important. It teaches us what and who you can live without and what and who you can’t live without. I know it is important to live like this all the time, not just when in a van.  So, the challenge is to not let the craziness of the world flood back in when I return to home and to continue to make good choices along the way and find the still and quite spaces to hear His still, small voice guiding us all along this crazy pace we call life. 

 

 

 

A turn

David in the Bible, will always be known as a shepherd and a king and man after God’s own heart.  What a glorious legacy to be known for. 

 

“Yet there was a time when David did not examine what was in his own heart, he did not examine his own fears of being loved enough, did not examine his fears of not being wanted enough, instead David examined what was outside his own window. Examined who was out bathing next door. When we only examine the ways of everyone around us instead of examining the ways of what is actually within us we can expect our hearts to eventually go wayward. If we don’t examine the ways our hearts turn, it is our very light that ends up not turning out well. David turned away from his responsibilities and draw closer to what he thought would satisfy him, comfort him, fulfill him. By living an unexamined life this is what ends up exploding David’s life”.  (Ann VosKamp) 

 

I have been captured by the haunting words of Ann VosKamp:

 

“Every time we turn from something, we turn to something”

 

How simple is a “turn”? Whether it is a 1 degree turn or a 90 degree turn it is still a ‘turn’. Often it is in the small turns that we suddenly find ourselves in a place we never expected. A slight turn in another direction, then another slight turn and then another. It’s a scary thought and yet we have all found ourselves in this situation.  And then we think we can no longer turn back so we carry on a path that we never wanted to be on. It only takes one bite, one look, one word, one thought, one action, one agreement, one lie, one moment. And then another and another. I have caught myself so many times, wondering how did I get here? How did my life come to this? This is not who I want to be?  

 

Repentance is not a word we like to speak about, but it means simply “to turn”. Easter is a key time to retell the story. It is a story we must continue to retell. As we have just come through this time we see the many ways the disciples turned from him, we see his enemies turn and hurt Him, we see the religious people and the crowd turn on him, all the while Jesus continued to turn toward His father. At every step He had a choice to turn away, to take another path, but He choose to turn toward the cross. He turned towards death that we might have life, grace, forgiveness and freedom from our own wrong turns. The story of Easter, shows us that there is no habit, no lie, no words, no actions, no agreement, no bad choice, no wrong path, no sin too far that we cannot not turn back to Him. 

 

David writes in Psalm 32: 3-5 (MSG)

 

“When I kept it all inside, my bones turned to powder, my words became daylong groans. The pressure never let up; all the juices of my life dried up. Then I let it all out; I said “I’ll make a clean breast of my failures to God”. Suddenly the pressure was gone – my guilt dissolved, my sin disappeared”

 

 

I am thankful for the men and woman in the Bible that share their pain and struggles so openly to show we are not alone in our failings to be who we long to be. David was not perfect, and his legacy remains because he knew that it was never too late to turn to God. Like David, we are only one turn away from freedom and love. I am reminded that no matter how far I turn from Him and who He made me to be, I only feel love and joy from Jesus whenever I turn toward Him. I pray there would more turning to and less turning from the love and freedom that Christ can bring this hurting, messed up world. 

 

 

 

 

When will I learn?

I have always gained great comfort from the Psalmists who wrote so many psalms beginning with a plea for help as they cry out to God:

 

Ps 57:1  Be good to me, God - and now! I’ve run to you for dear life. I’m hiding out under your wings until the hurricane blows over.

Ps 119:105-112. Everything’s falling apart on me, God, put me back together again with your word.

 

Ps 64: 1 “Listen and help, O God. I am reduced to a whine and a whimper, obsessed with feeling of doomsday”

 

Ps 86:1-2 Bend an ear, God: answer me. I’m one miserable wretch! Keep me safe – haven’t I lived a good life? Help your servant -I’m depending on you!

 

Ps 102:1-2 God, listen! Listen to my prayer, listen to the pain in my cries. Don’t turn your back on me just when I need you so desperately. Pay attention! This is the cry for help! And hurry – this can’t wait.

 

Ps 130:1-2. Help, God – the bottom has fallen out of my life! Master, hear my cry for help! Iisten hard! Open your ears! Listen to my cries for mercy.

 

Ps 142:1-2 I cry out loudly to God, loudly I plead with God for mercy. I spill out all my complaints before him, and spell out my troubles in details.

 

At first, I would keep reading them and take solace in that fact that I plead the same thing over and over again. Every day is a new challenge to get back up and try again. But in any given day that I feel like I am stronger and can move forward, something happens and pushes me back 2 or 3 steps again.  I would feel like a failure over and over again, wondering will I ever get there? I took comfort in the fact that many of the Psalms begin with a cry out for help, and it is not always a whimper, it is often a demand using words like “help”, “listen”, “pay attention”, “listen hard”, “plead”, “open your ears”.  They are often said with exclamation marks after them that feel very demanding and desperate. I was always taught to pray with respect and to begin with ‘thank you’ and “praise you God for…”.  I know it is the way Jesus taught his disciples to pray and I want to be respectful indeed, but if I am honest I do find joy in the Psalmist’s cries of desperation. It is real and raw and helps me feel less like a failure and more like a normal mortal, who is simply struggling. 

 

But today as I read more Psalms begging God to help, I was comforted by something different. For a while now I have judged myself for wondering how long will I take till I never waver from His love and grace?  How long will I sing this whining song?  How long will it take till I learn and move forward?  I don’t know if you have ever felt stuck, like you are in a holding pattern and you just want to stop going back to the same old pains and struggles over and over again. I know it is how I feel all the time lately. I just want it all to stop. I long for the renewing of the mind. These words feel like a broken record and yet I find comfort in them when I read another Psalm that says: 

 

Ps 70: 5 But I’ve lost it, I’m wasted God – quickly, quickly! Quick to me side, quick to my rescue! God, don’t lose a minute.

 

Ps 77:4-6 I’m awake all night -not a wink of sleep; I can’t even say what’s bothering me. I go over the days one by one, I ponder the years gone by. I strum my lute all through the night, wondering how to get my life together.”

 

So, there is a small comfort in the reminder that if it was so easy to move forward, there would simply be one Psalm and not over 100 of them. The reality is that just as much as our human nature needs to hear things over and over again, we often do need to keep realising it is a journey and it takes time for restoration and re-storying. 

 

I took small comfort in the fact that there is something powerful about not feeling alone. But today I was struck by the fear there is something dangerous about staying there.  Many of the Psalms start in pain, but they don’t stay there. I realised that I had to stop myself from quickly moving over the “hopeful positive” statements to seek another verse where the Psalmist was crying out for help. I was reminded that is it maybe more important where you end, rather than where you start. It Is okay to plead, whine, cry out, demand help, acknowledge pain and struggles as long as you don’t stay there. And this is where possibly when the learning occurs. I must stop berating myself about why I am I still sad and lonely and change the destructive self-talk of “when are you going to learn, Tammy?” to asking different questions like: 

 

Am I still in the same place I was three years ago?

Are my dark days as dark as they used to be? 

When I am struck by pain, do I stay in the darkness as long as I used to?

When it hurts deeply and I feel the pain, do I stay there, or do I move through it?

Is my focus on the pain or the promise of hope that comes on the other side?

 

When my answers to these questions are “no” then I am learning and growing and changing, be it ever more slowly than I would hope for. When my desire is to focus on the hope more than the pain, I am heading in the right direction and it is all He asks for. I am challenged to “be still” and ponder the way each Psalm ends rather than my focus staying on the way it begins. While many of the Psalms begin with pleading and begging for God to help, they always end with: 

 

Ps 57:11. “Soar high in the skies, O God! Cover the whole earth with your glory”

 

Ps 64:10 “Be glad, good people! Fly to God! Good-hearted people, make praise your habit”.

 

Ps 86:17. “As you, God gently and powerfully put me back on my feet”. 

 

Ps 102:28 “Your servants’ children will have a good place to live and their children will be at home with you”

 

Ps 130:7 “…With God’s arrival comes love, with God’s arrival comes generous redemption”

 

Ps 142:7. “….your people will form a circle around me and you’ll bring me showers of blessing!”

 

Lord, I continue to pray for your strength daily, to keep my focus on your message of hope, love and grace. Help me to learn more about that each day and to learn that "to sing your praises is enough".

COVID - An iceberg of titanic proportions

The Titanic movie was an epic movie. Many would know and smile at the mention of the movie, a tale of a mega ship created to change the world at the time it was built.  A huge ship with all different layers and classes of travel, something for everyone, who were off for an amazing journey. The story begins to get interesting when two passengers have the gumption to cross classes and connect together. And then all hell breaks loose when the ship, which was supposed to be unsinkable, hits an iceberg and over time the damage is enough to send the whole thing crashing to the bottom of the sea. While I love the drama, adventure and romance of the movie, I remember a scene of a violin quartet standing on the deck of the ship continuing to play as the ship went down. Was it denial, was it acceptance, was it simply the English stiff upper lip, proudly going down with the ship, doing what they have always done?  

 

In a throw away conversation with a colleague we joked about how hard it is to “turn the ship” when it comes to thinking about doing church life across the ages. After what feels like 15 years of exploring life in community together, across the ages, I am still shocked when I find myself in a conversation with people who are still asking how it is even possible to grow, serve, learn and worship across the ages. The ship is simply not turning and it made me think about the “Titanic”.

 

The many decks, the many classes, all keeping separate and not mixing. The fact that the titanic was sinking and most people had no idea until it was too late. The rush to the life rafts to discover there wasn’t enough of them, because no one truly believed that the Titanic was ever able to sink.  The ship was designed for comfort and style and order and class, not practicalities. This mega ship was unstoppable, it was going to be honoured and adored by the world as the world’s largest ship. After all, biggest is best.

 

It feels like for centuries we have been building the unstoppable, unsinkable mega Church. One that has many rooms, many activities, many segregations, many specializations, all to keep everyone occupied in their own way. The captain is very removed from the people and all with the desire to get as many people saved and to the other side of this world to eternity. Like the ‘Titanic’, the institutional church was built all with the best of intentions and yet seems to be missing the real practicalities and purpose of community and life together.  And once it started sinking, the panic of personal survival meant that community and care for each other seemed to be thrown overboard. 

 

My colleague said, “maybe we need to strategically place some icebergs” in order for people to re-think. I can’t imagine any more of an iceberg than COVID-19 on the world stage. Yet it seems as if the church is like the quartet of violinists standing on the deck and playing their music (with masks on of course) as if all will be ok if we just keep doing what we have always done. 

 

On the Titanic, as the ship was sinking, the life rafts were only small and only a few people could get on each. There wasn’t enough and many people drowned as a result. This is a very interesting visual. Just to state, I am not about sinking ships or churches for that matter, but I do believe in the ‘life raft’. I do believe the ‘life raft’ is the kind of community Jesus built and He wanted us to build thousands of them. I do live in such a ‘life raft’ community. It is rich, strong, life-giving, safe and yet vulnerable, exposing and real. Sometimes we really feel like we are tackling a large sea in a little raft, holding on for dear life. But this is when faith, what you believe, and knowing who will be stay with you through the good and bad, really reveals itself.  

 

COVID continues to rock us all, it has sunk many and most are wandering around the sea in big empty ships feeling like what next? The ‘life raft’ is as real now as it has ever been. True, real community in small spaces, where everyone knows each other, love and accepts each other. A place where age, culture and class is irrelevant, but faith is necessary. Wow, that sounds like the early Church to me. I challenge you to take a risk and jump into a ‘life raft’ and experience transformational life.  In 2022, is there any more to lose?

 

 

 

 

Don't 'fail' to learn

I went to watch the sunset this morning to put into practice the new things I am learning about taking a photograph in manual mode. Up to this point all my photos have been in automatic and I was enjoying that process, it was working. For me to look through the lens, enjoy what I see and frame it right has given me so much pleasure. It allowed me to adventure and discover so many new things. I knew it had its limits, but what I was experiencing in those limits was still enjoyable.

 

This year I have decided to try to stretch myself, go out of my comfort zone and try to learn to shoot in the manual mode. So many had been telling me it allows you to do so much more. I believe it, I just can’t understand it … yet.   So, I have been doing a course online and today it was time to give it a go. 

 

It was a beautiful morning; calm, picturesque, a serene sunrise, the harbour was sparkling, and for August it wasn’t even cold.  I set myself up and began to try to take a picture with all my new information.   Nothing worked, nothing made sense, all I had learned had disappeared and the camera would not do anything I asked it to. Most times it wouldn’t even take a photo at all, and I know it was because I had no idea what I was doing.  It was not an enjoyable experience. I even tried to slip back into automatic and try to capture something, but even that didn’t work the same, nothing seemed to work. 

 

I packed up and headed to the car, feeling very sad and frustrated.  People saw my camera gear and spoke to me repeatedly as they walked past, saying, “What a beautiful morning, did you get some good shots?” I had no confidant answer for them and as I pondered, I realized I didn’t even see how beautiful it was this morning. I missed the whole sunrise.  What would normally have been a lifegiving and joyous experience just left me feeling empty and dejected. I got into my car and just cried. I felt panic and a lack of confidence and I wanted to give up. This was all too hard. 

 

Now I know that my tears were not just about missing the sunrise, or not being able to make my camera work. I know this experience triggered a deeper pain of being completely out of my comfort zone and having to try something completely new, when all I really want to do is to go back to the way it was.  It triggered fear, shortness of breath, pain, loss, sadness about my current reality. You know that change, when you are going along in automatic, life is good, life is great and then suddenly, all the rules are changed, and you have no idea how to function in a new mode. For so many the rules are changing daily even, and we are all trying to simply function, and nothing makes sense anymore. You just sit and want to go back to that way it was or give up because it is all too hard.

 

These past 2 years has been this way for so many people, on so many levels. On a world scale, we are all struggling with the challenge of change and new rules and guidelines being thrust upon us. You name it, it has happened. There is no easy way to navigate what seems to many of us something that we can’t see the end of. And yet like many, for me, COVID has not even been my greatest and most challenging change. 

 

So, I ask myself, why I am doing this to myself right now, changing up one of the few things that has been my lifeline in these difficult times? Should I just go back to ‘auto’ photography and give up learning something new?  The easy answer is yes, but in my world right now where so much is out of my control, maybe it is one thing I can change, renew, improve, strengthen. The one place where at least I have the control to choose to give something new and scary a go. A place where my bruised and battered confidence may have a chance to beginning re-sorting itself, preparing me to feel that I can face the bigger challenges of life that will really matter. A little step that will help move me from feeling “paralysed” and “hopeless” to be able to breathe again and step into a new world with renewed “hope”. 

 

Randomly I received a message the night before from someone who doesn’t really know me. I thought it was strange when I read it that night, but as I re-read it this morning I wonder if God knew I would need it this morning: 

 

“God has amazing things in your future, Things you’ve never imagined but to get there you’re going to have defeat some big giants, overcome some big obstacles, outlast some strong opposition. Why this is happening you do not know, but you must stay strong and show the opposition that you’re more determined than they are. God didn’t bring you this far to leave you. The problem is not there to stop you. It’s there to prepare you. This challenge will not defeat you.”

 

I must believe that if I can push through this difficult, unknown, clueless time of not knowing how to take a photo in manual mode, then in the end a new and exciting world of possibilities can be open to me. Even though I can’t see how this is possible yet, I choose to believe it is.  But greater than that I choose to believe this for life, my every day, for my family, for those I walk with and for the world. 

 

You can’t see it yet, your messed up HSC, your lost job, your broken family, your shattered dreams, your wavering health, your lonely and rejected heart, your painful loss that makes no sense … it’s not easy. What is one thing you can do today to simply build hope and life into this day? What is one thing you can do today that is new, stretching, one thing that helps you not give up today?  Sometimes it is all I have, and it is enough for today. 

 

Today, I missed the sunrise, I didn’t get the shot, I messed up, fell apart, and cried. But I got up, I got dressed, I drove to the beach, I gave it a go, I acknowledged the pain, and I have chosen to not give up, I am not defeated, and I will try again. And it is still only 8:30am. It is a good day to NOT ‘fail to learn’.

The photo I took in desperation in "Auto" mode 

(PS. I wrote this 4 weeks ago and still haven't picked up the camera again, 

I have a long way to go yet)

To re-knit or NOT to re-knit?

I had never known that you can reuse wool before until I wrote a blog about unravelling and got responses back from people about the power of re-used wool. Until then I thought that once something was knitted together and became unravelled you simply threw it away and started again. The more and more I investigated the idea of reusing old wool that had come unravelled, I became more and more aware of the depth of this process. 

 

A dear and wise friend wrote to me: 

 

“In the unravelling we still have the wool. We lose the shape of what was, but we carry the same wool for remaking the new. All the memories, the experience’s, the lessons, the joys and griefs are still in the wool – it’s not in the shape we loved, crafted, cared for and created though and that’s what makes the heart ache.”

I confess I am not yet anywhere near the “re-making” stage in my life, the unravelling is far too painful, and I cannot yet see any joy in the new. I know it will be a very long process. During the heart ache of this current season, I decided on a project to unravel something I made 37 years ago. Something that I have treasured and had for so long to see if it would help the current healing process. This jumper was to me still perfect, it did not need to be unravelled, it was functional and comfortable and surrounded me with the warmth I needed, so it was hard to decide to unravel it. Yet, this is what happens at times, doesn’t it? It didn’t make sense to unravel a perfectly good jumper, but this was a process that didn’t need to make sense. Sometimes trying to make sense of the “why” is not the correct question to ask, more often we need to ask the question “what next” and this is what this unravelling project was about. 

As I unravelled a jumper I had lovingly made all those years ago, I was surprised as to how hard it was to pull apart. What I thought would simply just fall apart with a few pulls, was not so.

Although it had been knitted so long ago, it was so entwined, that I had to resort to cutting it which caused lots of small pieces of twine. The cutting process was painful for me, yet very real. It took a very long time, I wanted to give up so many times, thinking this is just too hard. And yet I was thankful it was a hard and long process because it showed that something made with such love should take a long time to unravel. If it had unravelled with one pull, it wouldn’t have been so strong and well-made and maybe I would have to question its strength in the first place.  But it took almost as long to unravel as it did to remake something new. This gave me a strange comfort, a validation that the original knitting was not a waste of time, or for nothing.   

Ecclesiastes 4:12 – “A three corded strand is not so easily broken”.  

 

 And yet after a lot of time cutting and ripping and pulling it was all unravelled. All the pieces, in

various sizes.  What was once whole pieces of coloured strands of wool was now all in pieces. What was once knitted together to create a whole piece, a unique design that gave me warmth, shelter, covering, joy, and life was now gone. Some might look at the original jumper and say, well it was very dated, very 80’s, maybe it was time for something new. For me, while I like new things, the old is still special to me and there is something about the love and memories created over time that can never be replaced with something new. But as we are all learning, life throws the unexpected at you and sometimes the old must go, sometimes it is cut, ripped, and pulled away from you and you have no choice but to begin again. 

I was left with the process of tying the broken pieces together to make a new ball of wool, a combination of all the colours, all the threads of the past creation, connected with knots.  

The ball of wool showed its imperfections, its brokenness, and yet the hope of something new that could be remade, rather than the option I had only known before, that it simply needed to be thrown away.

To begin again with the wool that carries all those memories, experiences and lessons, brings the old into the new and creates something better than new.  Or so I have been told. 

 

As I considered what I could reknit, I knew I was not up to re-knitting a jumper. I am not sure how I even knitted the first one, with all its intricate designs. I knew I was only up to making something simple, something that showed me something “new and functional” was possible from these broken strands of wool. 

 
I began to re-knit, to re-use the wool that had been unravelled and created something that now sits on my bed, carrying the memories, the joys, and the griefs of the past. It was all the colours mixed, rather than the colours being separated as in the original design, and yet speaks to me of the hope of something new.  It is not as functional as the original, more of a decoration, a memorial even. This time it was knitted with tears, the original being knitted with love, but none the less it is new. 
 

“Forget about what’s happened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert, Be present. 

I’m about to do something brand-new” Isaiah 43:18-19

 
To re-knit or not to re-knit, that is always the question? I’m trusting God that the only option is to re-knit and trust in that process. Right now, I am “faking it till I make it”, one day at a time. The new cushion reminds me each day it’s a choice and yet it gives me a smile of the past as I press forward to the new.  
 

Joy is a Choice

This particular day in lockdown felt like it could sting. My daughter turned 21 and we could not celebrate it the way we had planned, the family was all separated and not able to be together.  COVID has affected us all in so many difficult, tragic and inconvenient ways. Some we can laugh off and let it go, some that sting. I know there has been much pain and loss for so many and the question is how we face it and move forward. 

 

It is when we feel separated, isolated, on the outside looking in, restricted even from human touch, or completely cut off which can happen in multiple ways; that grief, panic, anxiety, fear and tears and anger can take a hold. 

 

I wrote on my daughter’s card: 

 

“This is not the day we planned, but we are learning this is the day we have. Live it well, make the best of each moment and today, like any other day can be a happy one” 

 

A day that could have stung, ended up having some lovely highs, because we chose to make the best of little moments that we could have. The isolation made me more aware of the things that are most precious and allowed me to grieve more deeply for what I no longer have. Most importantly, I did not let the pain and loss destroy the joy.

 

As one so much wiser than me said: 

 

“Joy is possible even amid great labours – the labour of dying, the labour birthing, and the labours between. We cannot force it. But we can create moments to breathe through labour pains and surrender our senses to the present moment, notice the colours and light and feeling of being alive, here, together, joy comes more easily…….Joy returns us to everything good and beautiful and worth fighting for…joy is the gift of love: it makes the labour an end it itself. I believe labouring in joy is the meaning of life” (Valarie Kaur, 2020)

 

I reminisced where I was 21 years ago when my daughter was born and pondered on all that I had back then.  During the ‘actual’ labour, there were so many moments of joy that I took for granted, that now feel lost amidst complication and pain. 

I know this day could have gone many ways. I had the choice to bring joy or pain, grief or laughter, possibilities or giving up, love or pity, grace or unforgiveness, prickly or soft, hope or hopelessness. Every moment was a choice. Every moment is a choice. And often it is not a choice I can make in my own strength.

This is not the life I planned, but I am learning that this is the life I have…………I choose to live it well, to make the most of each moment and choose today and each day from now on, that there will be happy moments again. 

 

“Performance of joy while the wounds are still being inflicted is not a display of otherworldly strength. It is an act of faith that God will not give us more than we can bear”. (R. Rohr, 2021)

 

I am thankful for my loving Heavenly Father who holds me up every step of the way. I would not and could not, do it in my own strength. I know we all have those days that sting, those times when life throws you something that seems too hard to bear, when the day or life you planned falls apart.  It is in these moments we must choose to believe that that ‘labouring in joy IS the meaning of life.’

 

 

 

 

 

Do I really want to be like you?

I wrote a children’s song called “I want to be like you”. I love to sing it with kids and teach them about the importance of allowing God to shape and mould us.  I have always considered it was about as we grow and need to be mouldable to His will as we develop and mature, especially for our children. 

 

“The potter moulds and makes, bends and breaks, design me to be, a servant for you.”

 

As I have done the actions over and over again; the bending, breaking, the shaping, the moulding, and the deep desire I have had to “want to be like God” in life, it is something that has been my prayer since I was a child.  

 

I have loved the visual of the clay and the ability to feel it in my hands and imagine shaping and moulding clay as I long to see people’s lives shaped and moulded by Him, and also my own life. 

 

Whoever said the simple promises of God cannot be powerful at any age, is clearly mistaken. This song and its promises have struck a deep chord with me recently and I am not sure I can even sing the song at the moment without feeling like an imposter.

 

I realise that lately I have been that clay that has arrogantly been saying to the potter, “what are you making?” And questioning not only the moulding and making, but especially the bending and breaking of how the Potter has been making me more like Him lately.  We can so easily say, ‘yes Lord, bend and break me’ until He does and then all we can say is, “what are you making?” And to be honest I have been very angry with the Potter.  

 

Isaiah 45:9 

 

“Woe to those who quarrel with their maker, those who are nothing but potsherds among the potsherd on the ground. Does the clay say to the potter, What are you making? Does your work say, “The potter has no hands?”

 

It would seem I have been doing exactly that. I have simply been saying to God, I am done, I am out, I don't like this anymore and I don't want to be broken and bent and shaped by you any longer.  I am a potsherd - a broken piece of pottery. I am shattered on the ground and I would like you to simply sweep me up and place me in the bin. I am done. 

 

I am ashamed for all those years I have urged children and people to allow God to bend and break them so they can be more like Him. I have prayed that for my life, but now I want to take it all back and say, ‘enough, it is too hard, it is too painful, I simply don't want to do this anymore’. Of course, I still want to be more like God, but I didn't know it would cost this much, and be this painful. To feel so broken and discarded and rejected is so painful. And yet my deeper embarrassment is that I have been teaching this to kids who are living in this space and have been discarded and rejected most of their life. What a hypocrite I have been. 

 

Isaiah 40:29

 

“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak” 

 

I have been so busy loving and sharing out of my strength and happy to minster from this space, but I realise I am not sure if I can love and share out of weakness. I mean true weakness, weakness that means you are simply ground up broken pieces of clay that sit on the potter’s floor.  The small bits that you simply sweep up and put into the bin. The broken bits that get trodden on and ground down to dust and become simple a gritty pain under your feet. When, you feel that weak and weary, how can He do anything from that? 

 

Genesis 2: 7

 

“Then the Lord god Formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life and the man became a living being.”

 

Hmmm…I mean really, no matter how low I go and long for a valid excuse to say I am finished, dust to be swept away, I have nothing more to give or do, I am just looking for any excuse to not have to do the painful work of being reshaped, remoulded. I certainly don't want to be broken any more. And I certainly don't want to be in leadership anymore where I must sing that song and encourage others to go on the journey of being moulded and shaped and broken by the potter. It is too painful and hard. 

 

When you get to the space and we all do at times, we are faced with a choice. I can either choose to sit in a pity party or I can be open to that fact that even when your life is dust, He can breathe life into it. New life, transforming life, life that you cannot yet possibly see or imagine. Help me to choose to sing: 

 

                   I want to be like you, 

                   I am changing day by day.

                   teach me Lord, and show me how, 

                   to grow to be more like you

                   …design me to be more like you.

 

What is your foundation?

 “If you work these words into your life, you are like a smart carpenter who built his house on solid rock. Rain poured down, the river flooded, a tornado hit - but nothing moved that house. It was fixed to the rock” (Matt 7:25- The Message) 

 

 

So many know the story of the man who built his house upon the rock and the man who built his house upon the sand.  I wonder how many others there are, like me, who read that story and can only think of the song you learned when you were a child in Sunday school.  It’s a great story and a great visual parable that is all too known and familiar. Or so I thought.  I feel like in my 50’s my literal, visual and foundational faith is constantly being rocked, (pardon the puns), or maybe simply it’s the reminder that we never stop learning and what we think is childlike knowledge that we all know, God is always transforming and building upon.  Or maybe He is simply showing me that I am a slow learner. 

 

When I have read and taught this parable all these years, I have always seen the promise of building your life on a firm foundation and when the storms come, and the tornados hit and the river floods, because you have built on a firm foundation, your house will not be moved, it will not crash or crack, it is fixed to the rock. I know that is what the ‘message’ says, and I have taken that so literally that I think it has become a stumbling block for me in recent years. It is the danger with the parables, especially when we teach them to young children who see things so literally. I have been so happy to confidently teach this to kids and adults alike, with no hesitation that choosing to build your house upon the rock of Jesus, you can be assured that what you build will stand firm and not be moved.

 

But the fact remains, that houses do still fall, even when they are built on a firm foundation. Sure, they have a better chance of surviving floods and storms than a house that is built on the sand, but none the less, they still crack, they still move, sometimes they crash down, and sometimes they need to be re-built completely. 

 

So, when we are faced with the real life reality and read the parables and they don't seem to add up, what do we do? 

 

How does one read this story/truth in the Bible, when they are living in the reality of their house crashing down around them?  When from the beginning of building your life, you have desired and chosen to build on God’s firm foundational rock, and while never perfect it is what you endeavoured to do and yet you stand in the rubble of a crashed down house.  The storm hit, the tornado came, the floods flowed through and the house crumbled. This has happened over and over again with people all through time and all over the world, and I know it is the time when many walk away from His stories and truth and look for something else to build their life on. 

 

I am thankful for the ways in which God is calling me to deeper and deeper understanding of His truth and want to ask for forgiveness if I have led anyone astray with my confidant and thoughtless sprouting of these parables and truths as if there is something wrong with you if you are standing in a crashed house and wondering where is God in this space? I know in recent years I have been that person, and the glib answers and prayers that you can be given in these spaces are not helpful, in fact that can be very harmful. It’s why we must know Who is our firm foundation in these challenging times.

 

It is hard to read these stories through the lens of pain, loss and despair, and yet that lens helps us to see truth that we would not have seen before. Words can often fail us and confuse us and yet, if we can sit with them and our loving Father just a little longer, we can see He has so much to show us. 

 

Today, I saw with new eyes that it is the foundation that remains. It is the foundation of who He is and what He promises that is what will not be moved. And yes, all that is built upon it will be stronger and more secure if it is built on the rock, but not everything that is built by man’s hands and plans will stand the test of time and the storms of life.  There is a distinct difference between, what we build into our lives (faithfulness, peace, joy, love, grace, forgiveness etc) because of the Rock we stand on, and what we build from the rock that is here today and gone tomorrow.  The literal one in me wanted to believe that because I have built something here on earth on the truths of the Rock (my God) that it should never crash, fall or crack and that is not correct. The promise of this story is that when what we build here on this earth crashes, falls or cracks, it is the foundation that remains, and the only chance of rebuilding, recovering, remaining amidst the loss and pain that life deals you is what you are left standing on.  His unmovable, unshakable, unrockable foundation. The world can try to take everything away from you, but it cannot take away His love, His faithfulness, His peace, His joy, His grace, His forgiveness … His … you put whatever word there, if it is from Him it will not be moved. 

 

 

“They are foundational words, words to build a life on.”  (Matthew 7:24) 

 

There are times in life when you might feel that they are all that you have, my prayer is to stay on the search for the rest of my life for HIM to be all that I need.