Suicide.

So let’s talk about Suicide. It’s one of those subjects where people often fall in one of three camps: those who have experienced it, those who kinda understand it, and those who really really don’t.

But you know what? It’s okay to not understand it; to not know what it feels like to think you’d be better off dead; to think that the world would be better off without you; to be so fed up of the pain inside that you would do anything, ANYTHING, to make it stop. Or to not know what it’s like to live day after day with thoughts and urges to harm yourself that you don’t want or understand. If you don’t understand it, count yourself as blessed.But don’t be naive to think it might never happen to you.

I doubt anyone spends life thinking that their physical health will remain top notch forever. We exercise and we drink water and we eat 5-a-day in order to keep our bodies healthy. And yet, accidents can happen and illnesses can occur where we need to see a doctor unexpectedly. Well, the same is true of our mental health. One day, something might happen that knocks us for six and rather than hide it or be made to feel ashamed, we need to be honest and open and seek help from professionals.

Personally, I never expected to spend so much time in hospital this year. I never expected to need to see so many mental health professionals, or to be diagnosed with an illness that I’ve probably had and been mistreated for since I was a teenager. But it happened. And I’ve discovered new strengths and depths to myself that I was never aware of.

So on this, World Suicide Prevention Day, it’s okay to need help. It’s okay if you don’t understand suicide. It’s okay if you’ve never considered it. It’s okay if you think about it every day. But wherever you are with your mental health - be kind to yourself. Seek help when you need it. Dig deep and discover your inner warrior. Talk to friends if it helps. Sit on a hill and watch the sky change blue to pink. Feel the wind on your face. Sleep the afternoon away. Play with your kids, or your friends kids. Do whatever you need to do to get through today. Because tomorrow needs you.

Loneliness/Being Alone

I’ve talked about this before, but on days like this, where the only person I spoke to face-to-face was through a fence, I realise how isolating living alone can be. I’ve lived alone before. (And lived with people that I barely saw day-to-day.) But in Essex, it was different. I was on home-turf. Living in your home town, with those friends you’ve grown up with, whose parents know you and practically treat you like one of their own, where you can drop by their place any time of day and they’d welcome you in and tell you to help yourself to a drink. They understand you and your family. They get the weirdness and uniqueness and the quirkiness of you, and accept it without question. Those streets where even the benches have memories attached to them.

But the world is bigger than that, and as much as I miss it and miss my friends, I’m glad that I listened to God’s quiet whisper and ventured out into the wider world. Nowadays, I eat 90% of my meals sitting in bed watching a DVD. I can go a full 24 hours without seeing or speaking to another human being. Most of my in-depth and meaningful conversations happen via social media and text. And most nights I sneak away to a pretty place to watch the sunset/city lights on my own. When you see it written down, you might think that I lead a pretty lonely life. And in some aspects, that’s true. But in others... I’ve never been more free in all my life. No regrets.

Choosing Me.

Last week I made a decision to walk away when I could have kept trying. I chose to put myself first where I could have allowed my own feelings and hurts to sink beneath the surface in order to spare the other person. I chose to stand by the way I felt rather than apologise for it. I chose to put myself first, when usually I would have done the complete opposite.

And that could have left me feeling guilty and selfish. But this time I knew I needed to do it. I needed to take the advice that everyone has been giving me since the day I left hospital. I needed to prioritise my own recovery - even if it went against every belief and instinct in my body. And maybe that meant I wasn’t there for others when I would normally have been. But this week, where sleep and alone time have been largely the norm, my body thanked me for it. And I can’t apologise for that. I can’t apologise for being who I am. For saying the truth and choosing to put my own mental health and emotional wellbeing above everyone else’s for once. I’m sorry if you got hurt. I’m sorry if you didn’t like what I had to say. But I’m not going to apologise for being me. I’m not going to apologise for choosing myself for once. Because I never do. 

Anyone who knows me well knows that about me. They’ve been telling me to do it for months. But I’ve always put others needs and wants ahead of my own; because I believed it was the right thing to do. But now I’m tired; no, I’m exhausted. I’ve been sleeping 12-14 hours a day this week. And I still feel like I need to sleep more. I’ve had no energy. And I’ve cried; oh how I’ve cried. And mostly, I’ve been alone. But that’s okay. It’s okay because it’s what I needed to feel and what I’ve needed to be. And for the first time in a long time, I’ve actually felt free - free to do what I needed to do to aid my recovery. Because I’ve not felt responsible for anyone else’s. It’s not my job to keep anyone else going. I’m no longer obliged to bury my own hurt and my own wishes for the sake of other people. 

So that’s how it is. I’m sorry if you’ve been hurt. But I can’t apologise for doing what I needed to do to get through another week. I hit breaking point and I needed out. I needed time. I needed to walk this part of the journey alone. And I needed to learn the hard lesson, that the only person that can be responsible for your life - is you. I can’t be responsible for yours and you can’t be responsible for mine.

Healer.

I was listening to this song the other day as I drove home from Essex, and it suddenly struck me: I may not have an illness like cancer or diabetes or epilepsy that needs healing, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need God’s healing in my life as much as the next person. Whenever I have been at any service or event in recent years where there has been prayer for healing, I know that my thoughts and my brain start to wander and I switch off, because I think that it doesn’t apply to me. I sit back and allow ‘other people’ to ask God for healing; people who ‘need it more’.

But I need healing from my selfishness, and from my greed, from bitterness and anger, from past hurts I haven’t let go of and disappointments I haven’t accepted. I need healing from grudges I haven’t relented on and promises that have been broken. I need healing from feeling unworthy, from loneliness and from self-hatred. I need healing from the mental torture I put myself through every day. From feeling not good enough and from thinking that I’m useless. From unrealistic expectations for others and for myself. I need healing from my insatiable desire to be loved, from my fear of abandonment, from my tendency to push the people I love away.

Surely if God is capable of healing leprosy and blindness and paralysis then He can also heal me of all the things that are holding me back from living a life of freedom in Him? How oblivious I’ve been! Thank you Jesus for opening my eyes and helping me to see. May you pour your blessing and grace upon my life right now. 🙏

Letter of Hope.

Dear friend,

There will come a time in your life, that no matter how much careful planning you try to do, no matter how many friends you invite out, no matter how many professionals have your name on file, you will find yourself alone. And there will be others you can call. But you won’t, for fear of worrying them. So you will keep the sadness locked up inside. And it will make you feel horribly and desperately alone. And the unanswered texts and messages will make you feel abandoned and empty. And you’ll be left wondering if everyone is really busy or if they just didn’t want to see you. So you will spend some time sobbing your heart out on a beautiful hill, wondering what happened to make life come to this.

And it is at that moment, little one, when you know that you cannot rely on anybody else in this world, that you will have to make the choice between hope and despair. Between life and death, the future, or the past. And I hope, that when that moment comes, you will find a reason to live for the tomorrows. A reason to hold onto life when all you feel is pain. A reason to keep making those tiny steps forward. Because no matter how dark the world gets when the sun retreats, there will be a tomorrow. And tomorrow needs you.

You can make it. You can hold on. Because you are not the first person to feel this sorrow. And you will not be the last. So when that time comes, when your heart is torn and the walls are crumbling, and you don’t know how you can go on: hold on. Hold on in the darkness, hold on through the pain, hold on with the knowledge that one day, you can be the one that someone else needs. The friend that didn’t give up. The one that wasn’t too busy. The light in the darkness. You can be strong dear friend, you have already survived so much.

Listening. Pt 3

And then I spent the second half of the night listening as another friend wept her heart out. She bravely shared with me things that had happened to her, things that no-one, good or bad, deserves to have happen to them. And I listened as she blamed herself. And as she told me she thought she deserved it. And if my heart had had any part of it left to break, that shattered too. I held her while she sobbed. I spoke love and hope and honesty over her for hours.

And then for a while, we both just listened to the silence. I didn’t try to give advice, because I was speechless. I didn’t try to fix the situation though I wished I could change the hurt she felt inside of her. But I also knew I couldn’t. All I could do is stay strong. And help her to make good decisions regarding her wellbeing and safety. When she was ready. It was a long night. But I knew she needed to know that I wasn’t giving up on her. And that I loved her and I believed in her and that I will always listen to all the things she never feels able to share with anyone, when she is ready to tell me. Because she is a beautiful, broken human being, just like me.

And we all need to be seen, we all need to be heard, and sometimes, we all need to just listen.

Listening. Pt 2

And then, I spent the next few hours listening. First to a friend whose wonderful family have blessed and supported me in unimaginable ways this last year. Ways I can never repay. He spoke words of love over me. He told me he knew I was struggling, and that the last week had been really hard for me, but he was proud of me. (Yes I cried again!) Just hearing someone acknowledge it, someone who just knew me without me having to explain it, was refreshing. But then I listened as he doubted himself, questioned himself, because of the way some people had treated him.

And I have to say, that hurt me more than the rest of the day had. That he could think for one second that he wasn’t good enough, and that he wasn’t living a life that God would smile over. He’s one of the most phenomenal people I have ever been blessed to meet. He is kind and generous and loving, even when no-one is looking. He goes above and beyond for so many people, and he does it without expecting recognition or reward. And it made me realise, that in all this time I have been struggling, waiting for God to move in my life: and he already has. He’s kept promises in the people He has surrounded me with. He has blessed me with an amazing church family to call home. And he’s given me friends who listen to all the things I don’t say. To all the things I wish I could say. And to all the things I say in my heart. But I realised that maybe I need to say them out loud more often. So this one is for you, dear friend.

Thanks for always listening. 😊

Listening. Pt 1

So, honestly... I’ve spent most of the last 24 hours crying. I went to bed on Wednesday crying and I woke up on Thursday morning feeling tearful and hopeless. I just wanted every difficult thing in my life to end. Truthfully, I wanted my life to end. My mind struggled to compute life past the end of the summer. My thought pattern turned unhealthy very quickly, as I began to make plans and think about who might miss me and who definitely wouldn’t. I stayed in bed crying and watching DVD’s until past lunchtime. 

In the afternoon, I’d promised to give a friend a lift to Dudley, so we went there and then to Costa where we laughed at M. McIntyre videos and truer than life memes. We talked about death, like we often do, and like we always do, we gave each other reasons to stay alive that we ignore for ourselves. 

Then I went back to my flat. And I cried some more. And I spoke to Sam on the phone and bawled down the phone to him, feeling so guilty for the pressure I put on him and how much I rely on him and all the time knowing there is little he can do to change how I feel. 

After that I lay, half-asleep in my bed until a friend text and asked if I fancied going to the shop. So we headed out, and as the sun was setting, I took her up to the back of St Andrews church where we watched the most gorgeous sunset and saw some wild horses. It’s a favourite place of mine to sit, and as we watched the colours sweep across the sky, we sat, and we breathed in the evening air and the soft stillness and the peace that comes from watching nature in all its magnificence. And I realised, what a wonderful moment to be with friends... 

 To be continued...

Honesty.

Honesty. How much is too much? I’ve been thinking about this so much recently, because often when I’m in a bad place, people will ask me a question and want me to “be honest with them” about how I’m feeling, but it doesn’t always end up being the best thing for me. So I hold back the whole truth, and I give a generic overview; the tip of the iceberg, if you will. Not sure if it’s my BPD, INJF-ness or my autistic traits but I just really struggle with generic questions like, ‘how are you?’. My brain won’t compute an answer in the socially accepted time-frame within which to answer so I say, “fine” or “yeah I’m okay.” If you want to know something direct you’re much better off asking me a direct question.

It’s certainly no secret that since getting out of hospital I have been really struggling, wishing things could be different, wishing I could somehow understand the mess my head is in. I cry at the smallest things. I cry at the big things. I feel alone and yet I’m surrounded. I feel overwhelmed and empty and every day I just hope and pray that something might suddenly just click into place; that I might begin to feel a little bit more normal.

I know I need to give myself time, to rest and recover, to give therapy a chance, to hold on to hope and love and peace that might one day drop back into my life. But it’s hard. It’s so hard.

So I just wanted to say thank you. So many of you have encouraged me and been praying for me and have been ever so patient when I just haven’t been able to do the things I normally would have. Maybe you were one of those people who asked how I was and didn’t feel like you got the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I’m sorry.

And I’m so thankful for this Insta feed. Morgan Harper Nichols posts speak so loudly to me. I read them all the time to remind myself to let grace abound and to let myself breathe. To trust that the light will break through the darkness and grace pours in day after day. Because honesty, though it might not be perfect, it is a beautiful thing.

Faith Pt 1

If this year has taught me anything, it’s that there are some situations that can’t be changed. Moments that once missed, are gone forever. Events that will play out no matter how much you try to avoid them. Conversations that once had, can never be forgotten. And no amount of wishing and hoping can change it. Time is fleeting.

Opportunities are as permanent as the clouds in the sky. The sun rises and the sun sets, and life goes on. There are so many things I wish I could change. So many emotions and situations I wish I could leave behind.

At the start of this week, I was so eager to hear the gentle whisper of God’s voice. Maybe He would speak into my soul and remind me of my unique place in His creation. Perhaps He might remind my inner being how much He loved me. Maybe He would heal me or release me of the immense pain I feel inside. Or fill me with supernatural peace and calm that comes only from above. It didn’t happen.

So now, as this week begins to stumble into the past, I am feeling rather disappointed. The opportunities have passed, I will never live this week again. What’s done is done. I have no idea how to feel, or even to describe the darkness that eats at my core. Everything happens for a reason, though right? Or maybe everything just happens, and we try, in our humanness, to find meaning in it. A year ago, everything was so different. A year ago, I was so different. So I guess, all things considered, no matter how fleeting time is, its effect is seen, felt, and experienced, in the moments like this.

Forever

Day 1 of Advent.

Today is the start of Advent, when we look forward to the coming of Christ, the newborn baby who would one day grow up to change the world forever. But whenever there is a time of looking forward, I always seem to find myself thinking back, reflecting on what has gone before. The last few weeks I have spent a long time pondering about all the things that have led to me being here, doing this and being this person.

In particular, I keep thinking about one special little boy that I had to say goodbye to nearly five years ago when he was adopted into his forever family. My feelings about him are always so mixed. I will always look back on the time I got to spend with him with a smile, great fondness, love and affection. But when I see updates on him, pictures of him growing and making achievements and enjoying his new life, I can't seem to shake the dull ache in my stomach and the tears in my eye in the knowledge that he will forget about me long long before I ever will him. The truth is he changed my life much more than I did his.

I guess I must be a pessimist, but all relationships hold that element of knowing that one day, at least one of us will have to say goodbye to the other for good. Whether that be through divorce, death, moving away, illness, etc. There is no relationship on earth in which we know that 'forever' is part of the equation. Humans aren't made for forever. We each hold a few people close to our hearts for a while, but most of my friendships fade when circumstances and distances change. It used to upset me but now I just know it's part of life. People who walk into our lives always have the option to walk out again. But the time you got to spend with them doesn't lose it's significance. It changes who you are, where you go, how you see the world.

As we look forward to Christmas, and the coming of the newborn Son of God, who exists forever, reigns for ever, and loves forever, we must reassess our own interpretation of what our relationship with Jesus means for our lives. Is he someone we think of often? Rely on often? Talk to often? Today is the start of a brand new day. It's the only day we're guaranteed right now. Let's use it to treasure what needs to be treasured, let go of what needs to be let go, and focus on what should be focussed on at this time.

Strip back what needs to be stripped back, and remember that the reason for Christmas wasn't to spend thousands of pounds on presents, decorations, Christmas cards, food and drink. It's the start of a relationship. The start of those special memories. Those moments of tears, heartache, and pain. Of forgetting, and remembering, and knowing that spending time with someone, no matter how short, can change your life forever.

Lost

It's been almost two weeks since my last blog post, which I have to say generated a lot more conversation with people than I thought it would. I forget sometimes that some people actually pay attention to what I post on here or on Facebook. A lot of the time it seems like I'm typing away to an empty screen.

I think that reflects a lot of how I feel about my life. I try my hardest to do the right thing, to help people, to be there when people need me. I often get it wrong and am always letting people down and sometimes it is weeks between when a friend contacts me for a meet up and when I actually get back to them. I know that I neglect a lot of people in my life because I'm too busy running around making other people happy. I'm sorry if you're one of those people. I'm going to try really hard to not neglect you; but please forgive me in advance.

I don't even know what I'm trying to say here to be honest. Feel free to give up now if you wish. I just, I'm currently trying to get my head around a conversation I just had with a male friend who yesterday I vowed I would never again speak to or let back into my heart. We had a falling out (of sorts) a few months ago and since then things have been pretty crappy. I miss him like crazy. I see things that I want to give him, laugh at things we used to laugh at together, hear songs that remind me of our friendship, and it breaks my heart. So for the sake of being able to move on and not be hurt any more by our falling out, I felt the need to put that our friendship behind me, and walk away. Yesterday I felt like I had just reached the end of the road.

The decision I made yesterday to do that was not easy, and it hasn't come quickly. This is a person who has been in my life for almost two years, and someone with whom I believe I have a connection that goes far beyond the realms of friendship or love or being like siblings. It's not romantic, its not about being together every day, but in its essence its about understanding what it feels like to be the other person. That's as good as I can get at explaining it. No-one understands it: at least no-one I have tried to talk to about it. Just me and him. It's something special and it's something unique, and I believed; until recently, that it was wholly God given. We've had our disagreements in the past, but we've always managed to put them behind us and move on. This one though, just seemed to be the end. Things have been difficult for a few months, and rather than continually putting myself through the agony of hoping it would get better, I decided to just say: enough is enough.

That was yesterday. And today is today. And today it seems, God had other plans. Whether He was waiting for me to hit rock bottom, I don't know. Maybe it was just a coincidence. But today, for one reason or another. We started talking. (Messaging.... it's the modern day equivalent.) At first it was awkward. I felt like we were both talking from anger or frustration or from not really trusting the other. And we both said lots of things that perhaps we should have said before and didn't. And then gradually, slowly, the sharp and bitter messages melted away, and the true hurt and heart came through into the conversation. And all of a sudden, as if in a flash, things seemed to be okay again. I felt it inside my chest before my head engaged with it. And I realised that in all this time, I was hurting so much that it didn't really occur to me that he was hurting too.

I've been living in my head, and everything he's done recently I've felt a personal stab. I guess when I don't talk to someone, and they don't talk to me, I automatically assume that the other person is thinking the worst of me. It seemed like he wanted nothing more to do with me. And he probably would have been justified in thinking so. I don't know. But now it just seems like everything that we were not talking about, everything that has hurt us both -  if we had acted out of love, if we had made a single move differently; had talked; none of this would have happened. Who knew.

And now I'm feeling a bit lost and as if I just dreamt the last few hours. I have dreams every night. And I've probably dreamt him several times in the last few months. I've searched and longed and clung to any small or minute (or non-existent) clue that he might be missing me too. Thinking about me too. Wanting to talk to me. And if I'm honest, it destroyed me. And now I have this 3 hour conversation that is all mine. And I have no idea what to do with it. And I'm almost terrified to go to bed in case when I wake up tomorrow this was a dream. Where do I place a friendship and companionship in my life that I've spent the last few months trying to cut out and forget about? My head says one thing and my heart another. Everyone who has seen or spoken to me in the last month knows how hard I have tried to move on and put this behind me. And now it's back. It's like a lost treasure that has been searched and searched for and never found. And then, after years and years of being missing: it's within reaching distance: it's right in front of me. Part of me has missed it. And part of me thought I could live without it. Which part do I listen to?

I love him. With more than just my head and my heart. He's more than just my big brother or my friend or my fellow depressive confidante: he's like someone God sent me. A shining light in my darkness. A whisper in my ear. A moment of peace in the storm. A hug. A kind word. A wink or a kiss on the head. He's me. But he's also my worst enemy. The person that if I let him in, has the potential to hurt me the most, destroy me, ruin my day, my week, my month. Drive me to the edge of my darkness. He's my dream and my nightmare. Because he's human. And he makes mistakes, just like I do. He gets frustrated, just like I do. He gives up, just like I do. Can I ever truly walk away? I honestly don't know. And I'm not even sure I want to.

Free

N.B. If I'm entirely honest I have no idea why I have chosen today of all days to write a blog. It's been pretty uninteresting.

I can't believe it's been so long since I have poured my mind out on here. Way back in August, when I took the kids to Soul Survivor, I was in a particularly vulnerable place. I had completed a week of mission at the church I work for, and it had been an absolute success, but the effort of spending so much time around so many people had really taken it out of me. I spent a week in bed/ not doing much in order to recover and then whipped off to Soul Survivor with a load of teenagers ready for God to do some awesome stuff. I always have that expectation at Soul Survivor, no matter how wrong it is, that something will connect with me (or with the young people) more so than a normal church service or bible study or spending time with Christian friends. Everything just seems so much... more.

Anyway, the theme of the week's teaching was about friendships & relationships (with God and with others). At first it didn't particularly strike me or affect me but there was one particular moment, during the ministry time in one of the evening sessions that got to me. I tend to try and keep my own emotions and feelings in check when watching over the teenagers, but this particular moment I could do nothing but curl up into a ball on the floor and cry my heart out. I was touched by young people (past and present) coming over to pray for me, but it was then in that moment that I decided to trust in God to heal me of the thoughts, feelings and mental health issues I had been having up until that moment in my life. I wanted so much to rid myself of all the darkness that clouded my soul, wanted God to shine a torch into all my dark places and just clean everything out. I made a decision, however wisely or not, to stop taking my anti-depressant medicine that had over previous months worked it way up to the maximum dose. I felt I just needed to trust.

My lack of withdrawal symptoms for the first few weeks I took as a sign I was doing the right thing. I enjoyed two whole weeks with Dan, adventuring in the Lake District for a week, and then seeing friends and family in and around Essex. When September 1st came around, I thought I was prepared for whatever the world was going to throw at me. How very wrong I was.

Things at work and home quickly got stressful, upsetting, and a number of things threw me off the track I thought I was sailing down. My so-called recovery ground to a gut-wrenching halt, and I was suddenly taking tender baby steps each day, just to keep myself from going back to relying on drugs to keep my mood stable. The withdrawal symptoms I had experienced last time I stopped taking my medication came thick and fast, broken sleep, exhaustion, vivid dreams, tearfulness... I began arguing with everyone and anyone, I started taking everything personally, because sensitive to everything, and once again began crying to myself whenever I was alone. And still I put off going back to the GP. I had, in the summer, planned to go back to her and announce myself cured by the power of the Almighty. All of a sudden, the doubts began to creep in, and I found myself more than once heading towards the GP surgery to make an appointment before dragging myself home to bed again. I decided I would wait until this darkness had passed, and I was truly better, before going back. 

A month later, and the improvements have been slow. The symptoms of depression have slowly taken over the withdrawal symptoms, and no matter what I do to try and motivate myself, every day is a struggle. My bad moods are a vicious cycle, causing me to withdraw from many around me, which makes me feel worse, which makes me less likely to want to spend time with people. I have been forced to make some decisions that have made me feel worse, but that I know are best in the long run. I have done some stupid things in lame attempts to make myself feel better. I have tried to guard my broken heart by avoiding those who may damage it further, but in doing so have cut out some special relationships from my life. I know only too well that anything good comes at a cost, and right now it is a cost I am not willing to take;  that I just can't afford to take.

I know He that is in me is stronger than these tears, these nightmares, this darkness that is drowning me. Every day when I wake up and feel the same heaviness sitting on my chest, I yearn for the peace that I know only God can give. I will not let go of my Saviour because the depression is shouting louder. It's hard. It's bloody hard. And I am not strong. I am a feeble, pathetic excuse for a human. But I will not let the doubts take me from me what He has promised. My prayer now remains the same as it was on that night in August - "Jesus, set me free."

Chances (Or Why I Walk Slow, Forgive Quick and Love Loads)

N.B. I have depression. Clinical Depression. I have since I was a teenager, but I only really sought out medical help when I was studying at Uni and everything just got far too much to handle: March 2012. Almost 10 years after I probably first began displaying symptoms of depression, I finally plucked up the courage and the know-how to visit my Doctor and get medical help. I've been to counselling. Several different ones actually. I've never really found it to be very helpful. In fact, I've had late night MSN conversations with friends that have aided me more than counselling ever has. But that's just the way of the world, isn't it? The reason I am telling you this is that I have never really publicly spoken out about it before. And I guess if someone wants to understand me and the way my brain works... it's pretty important that you understand that simple fact first and foremost. I'm not looking or asking or wanting sympathy. I just think that it's time that everyone started being more honest with one another... even if it is from behind their computer screen.

I love to walk. I guess that comes in handy, not being able to drive. But I don't mean walking is my preferred method of travel: I regularly use buses, trains, taxis and other people to get around. What I mean is, I love to just... walk. Wander. Hike. Meander. Dilly-Dally. Wherever and whatever I'm doing, I like to take my sweet time about it. Especially if I have no fixed schedule. There is a art in walking slowly. In observing every aspect of your surroundings. The birds. The trees. The clouds. The sun. The warmth. The breeze. The bugs on the ground. The traffic, or lack thereof. The feel.

There are some days when to wander around outside is like you are walking around in heaven. To be in God's world, but to know that it is only temporary, and yet to appreciate every aspect of that perfect day that God has gifted into your hands. He has placed you exactly where you are, and in whatever difficulty or circumstance you are facing... God has given you a chance to just BE. When I am walking slowly, I am not under pressure. I am not at anyone's beck and call. I am not being summoned, or bothered, or interrupted. It is just me and God, taking a stroll. A chance to chat over those ideas and dreams in my head, or listen to the one's in God's. A time to seek forgiveness, guidance, direction, calling and gifting. A time to rethink. A time to let go. Yes, walking slowly is an art form, but that is why I do it.

Some people find it easy to hold grudges. I don't. In fact, I find it's more effort than it's worth. If you hold someone's mistakes against them, you are basically saying that the relationship you had with them; whatever it was; is not as important as the stupid or horrible thing they did or said. It also comes from an assumption that the person is so perfect that they are not going to do anything that hurts or upsets you. And let me be frank: there is NO-ONE in your life who will never upset and hurt you. In fact, those closest to us are the most likely to hurt us. Why? Because they are whom we place on pedestals, assuming that they are so awesome they are infallible. Who is infallible but God?

I'm not advocating letting people walk all over you because they are imperfect and they are bound to hurt you. But if someone does something that upsets or hurts you: Talk to them about it. And then forgive them. And then move on. Holding on to our grudge and our hurt and our bitterness diseases none but our own heart. You may need help to forgive. You will most definitely need prayer. But the more we practice it in our everyday lives, the easier it becomes. I have had a number of people who have been very close to me do things that have really upset me. But I have learned to forgive each and every one of them, because I am incapable of holding grudges. They sit like an ugliness in my heart and a heaviness in my chest and it causes all normal function and life to cease until I let it go. So I have learned to forgive quickly. It's just something that has to be done.

The longer I work as a youth worker, the more I realise that I am incapable of not loving a child. There is something that happens inside of me, the minute I connect with someone, I feel a loving and caring feeling towards them. (Not in a romantic way....) Sometimes, it's from the minute I see their shining little smile looking up at me. For others, the love hits me the minute I see something of their character, or strength, or passion, or hopes, or dreams, or fears. But there is always something... something of God that I see in each and every child and young person I meet. I love that. I love that I love my job. I love that I love my young people. It doesn't mean that they won't annoy me, or frustrate me, or even make me angry. There are definitely days when I feel like throwing in the towel. But then I think about one smile, one laugh, one sparkling or tearful eye, and I remember. To feel loved and accepted for who you are: Surely it is the single most important and desperate search in every young person's life. And ultimately, the answer to that struggle is found in God. But what chance does a young person have in finding that in God if they don't see it in the ones who tell them about God? So I love all my young people. The ones I see weekly. The ones I see monthly. The ones I've met once. The ones I will pass on my way somewhere. The friends of the ones I meet and work with. I love them all. Because God does. What other reason is there?

Loud and Clear

N.B. Today, has been an awesome day. Read on to find out more.

Over the last few weeks, I've not had many of them. There have been plenty of okay days. And a few alright ones. And a fair few really crappy ones. But rare are the days when I can say, "Today has been great." The last few weeks I've been feeling pretty low and vulnerable to hurt, criticism and things not going to plan. All of those things, as well as general busyness and not managing my time very well led to me feeling particularly down last week, and then with my back playing up... everything was pretty dire. I generally try not to show that part of me to most people, but those closest to me see it, or know it.

Anyway, at the weekend I was away(ish) camping with the Junior Section of Hutton Free Church. 8 boys, 4 leaders including me. It was a nice weekend... albeit exhausting, frustrating, loud, pretty sleepless, and because of my trapped nerve, painful. The problem is, that I am one of those people who feels lonely a good 80% of the time, especially when I am surrounded by people who I don't really know 'me.' So although it was a good weekend, and I enjoyed it, I was lonely, and by the time I got home on Sunday afternoon I was desperate for a hug. (It had also been 4 weeks since I last saw Dan, so I was pining.) My two best friends were in London at HTB so they weren't around to meet up/talk to. But instead of laying on my bed crying (which is a general post-weekend away reaction) I somehow found the strength to spend the afternoon doing random little things, (like re-stringing my guitar and browsing Wikipedia) to keep myself busy. And wouldn't you know, my awesome best friends popped in for ten minutes to see me on their way home that night, so I didn't feel forgotten and left out.

But Monday morning I awoke feeling less than energetic about the day. It was my day off, and I'd woke early so I could book myself a Doctor's appointment, and spent the morning pottering about doing odd bits. After the Doctors appt. I wandered over to HSUC where I share an office with Alex to collect my folder for the groups that evening that I had stupidly left behind. Alex was having an 'out of the office working' kind of day, but he popped in for something I was just sitting at my desk sorting some bits out. We didn't speak much, but Alex is one of my best friends in the world, and he just knew that I was feeling 'bleurgh.' So just before he left again he leant down to where I was sitting and kissed me on the top of my head. It was such a spontaneous thing, but in that single second, my day changed. That one small act of love and care broke through my dark clouds and melted my apathy. It made me smile.

The rest of the day went really well. I felt so much more calm and relaxed about the day. Both the clubs that I was helping at/leading that evening went great. I felt energetic, enthusiastic, cheery. And as I went to bed that evening, I felt okay. I wasn't surrounded by the usual dark mist of loneliness that tends to settle in around that time everyone else logs off. I got myself into bed before midnight, and I lay awake in the darkness, I remembered how it felt to be kissed on the head, like a child sitting on her parent's lap, I felt protected and cared for, loved and reassured that everything was going to be okay. And although it was Alex that did it, it was more than that. It was God, knocking on all the bad cloudy thoughts and telling them to be quiet for just a few seconds. It was God, surrounding me with His love and care and reminding me that He would protect me through the storms. It was God's great Fatherly arms that wrapped around me and held me tight. And so as I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, I smiled to myself, knowing it was going to be okay.

And that was yesterday. And today was also a great day. I was happy, but I was more than that. I had found rest in my soul. I could laugh and joke and be silly and enjoy being with my friends, colleagues and the kids I work with. I could genuinely say that I was 'good' when someone asked how my day was. That is such a rare moment in my life that I was almost willing people to ask me how I was!

But you know, I'm not saying that every morning I am going to awake feeling on top of the world: I have lived long enough to know that mountain top experiences don't last forever. The dark clouds that frequent my heart and mind come thick and fast, like a thunderstorm, but that one small gesture, that amazingly awesome moment when God barged into my life with flashing lights and a siren... well, I just thought that deserved a blog.

Inside

N.B. The following blog is because I am reading ‘Do Nothing, Christmas Is Coming’ by Stephen Cottrell, ‘an advent calendar with a difference.’

It’s a strange Christmas this year: partly because my family are scattered across the country/world, and partly because it is the first Christmas since as long as I can remember where I haven’t been to church at all in the week leading up to Christmas. This year I am far away from church on Christmas eve, Christmas Day, I haven’t even attended a Candlelit Carol Service. I guess that’s why it doesn’t feel so much like Christmas.

But then again – this Christmas has reminded me more of my childhood. Back to the days when Christmas was exciting. When Christmas traditions filled me with joy, and the laughter and lights of the holiday season brought us together as a family. Over the last week I have seen many of my family, aunts, cousins, grandparents and siblings. I have been able to get to know people on a much deeper level than their Facebook profile – get the heart of what makes people tick and the things that are really precious to them.

Amongst all that, I have taken some time off, and not felt the need to answer every call for my attention. I am a human who needs to recharge, needs to accept my own weakness and my own downfalls, and remember that family is important. I spend a lot of time putting my family second to the demands of youth work/church. But at Christmas, as ‘churchy’ a celebration as we like to make it, I have chosen to reverse that balance. Tomorrow I will spend time with my sister Laura and her husbands’ family. Boxing Day I will spend time with my siblings. And I will not regret the time that I did not spend at Church. For I worship a God who is bigger than the buildings we so often attempt to confine him in, and I will instead find wonder in the day of celebration for the child who was born into the simplicity of a stable.

"May the Lord bless you and keep you.

May the Lord make his face to shine upon you,

and be gracious to you.

May the Lord lift up his countenance upon you,

and give you peace."

Merry Christmas everyone.

DNCIC recommendations for today:

·      Now that all of the preparations are done – or at least now that there is no more time for any more preparing – stop, and find a place of quiet.

·  Be still. Get inside the Christmas story. Sit down. Make yourself smaller. In your imagination go  to Bethlehem. Bend beneath the lintel of the door of the stable and come in.

·       God comes to us in the vulnerability of a child. We can come to him in stillness. We can find him in silence. And Christmas can be put back together. And enjoyed.

“Christmas renews our youth by stirring our wonder. The capacity for wonder has been called our most pregnant human faculty, for in it are born our art, our science, our religion.” Ralph Sockman

Cringe

N.B. All of the following 6 blogs are because I am reading ‘Do Nothing, Christmas Is Coming’ by Stephen Cottrell, ‘an advent calendar with a difference.’

It is true that most of us find our families terribly embarrassing. There are two ways to deal with this embarrassment – disown them, or embrace it. Everyone’s family is a little bit odd – everyone’s family does slightly weird things when compared to someone elses, and as I said to my friend Georgia today – everyone has at least one crazy, elderly relative that makes us all laugh. That’s life.

But as weird and completely barmy as my family are – I love them. And I love spending time with them. They make me laugh, and they give me something to smile about. They do stupid things, and they do amazing things. There is definitely something they are not – and that is boring. There is rarely a quiet moment in this house.

I guess that is why I am a bit sad that we won’t all be together for Christmas this year, like in years gone by. But then we haven’t ALL been together for Christmas for a good 8 years. But still. The extra time that I have taken to spend with them will not be in vain. It’s going to be great. J

DNCIC recommendations for today:

·        Take yourself less seriously.

·        The best comedies will not be on television this Christmas. They will be around your own table, if you can but see them.

·        Re-imagine the peoples of the world as a hugely complex, extremely muddled, wonderfully odd and riotously funny family. Enjoy the differences. Take proper account of the deep-seated simularities.

·        Say sorry a bit more.

·        Say thank you.

“One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one’s work is terribly important.” Bertrand Russell

Harmony

N.B. All of the following 8 blogs are because I am reading ‘Do Nothing, Christmas Is Coming’ by Stephen Cottrell, ‘an advent calendar with a difference.’

As climatic a Christmas as the people of Albert Square appear to have year after year, there is one aspect of the show that I do like, (though I never watch it.) They live in community with one another. Everybody knows everybody and their Mum, and very few of the characters spend more time on Facebook that with actual people. Although alas, perhaps that is where the show varies the most from real life.

One thing I love about Christmas is that it gets people together. And I don’t mean together on an online site, I mean in the same room as other people. Sharing and living and talking. It scares me how young people are more than willing to spend hours sharing and updating me with the intimate details of the lives of their favourite TV character, but when I ask them how their week has been they say ‘Alright.’ Young people are losing the ability to have a conversation about themselves with another human being – in person.

We may know the issues and history and background affecting the characters of Eastenders, One Tree Hill, or TOWIE, but we miss when our best friend is struggling, or that family in church are grieving, or that single Dad is overwhelmed by his responsibilities. People can tell me that spending time on Facebook is this generation’s version of ‘socialising’ but I say no. Get off the computer and go and live life with people. Spend time with them. Listen to them. Discover who they really are, not what their profile picture and status says they are. It may well be false.

DNCIC recommendations for today:

·        Do I know my next door neighbour’s name?

·        Do I only ever mix with people like myself?

·        Is there anywhere I go where there are people of other races or religions?

·        Make a pledge to start a conversation with someone you hardly know.

“The lion and the calf may lay down together, but the calf won’t get much sleep.” Woody Allen

Heartache

N.B. All of the following 11 blogs are because I am reading ‘Do Nothing, Christmas Is Coming’ by Stephen Cottrell, ‘an advent calendar with a difference.’

Today we had a joint men/women’s House of Prayer. It was good fun, interesting to share with the men also – (although a bit weird that they were there). Diane asked us to share various moments in our lives – the best and worst thing of 2011, reasons why we were special, and the happiest three moments in our lives. The last topic for me was the very hardest. I have had many happy moments in my life. But perhaps the happiest three also carry with them the deepest hurt: perhaps because the highest moments in our lives carry the potential for us to fall the furthest.

Interestingly for today’s advent reading – all three ‘happy’ moments are in some way connected to children:

1)    Anyone who knows me at all will know my passion and heart for the Philippines and the children and people I met there. The children and young people at Joyland have been especially on my mind recently, as it is getting close to Christmas and I long so much to share this time with them. They are so dear to my heart, and I am sparsely happier than when I am spending time with them - but of course it means that I feel such a great sense of loss when I am so far away.

2)    When I first came to Southend I was broken in so many ways, but there was one family that I became particularly close to and began to spend a lot of time with. The kids treated me like a big sister, and I loved them all as if they were my younger siblings. I enjoyed every moment I spent with the family, and always felt like I belonged. They welcomed me in, even at the most inconvenient times, and they helped me in too many ways for me to count. I loved them all. Unfortunately, over the last few years a few things have changed, and things are no longer as they once were. I still love them all just as much as I ever have, but it has been heartbreaking to share with them in their pain over the last few years.

3)    My niece is the absolute apple of my eye. I love her to the moon and back, and she makes me smile on the worst of my days. Being able to share in her growing and learning has been amazing. She is beautiful, funny and loving and growing up much too fast. (3 years old next week!) Unfortunately the world she is growing up into is not one I would wish on any child. I wish that I could in some way prevent her from ever finding out about the selfishness and greed that leads to so much suffering in the world. The look in her eyes the first time she learns about the conditions other children have to live in will break my heart. She is so privileged to have so much, but so many other children aren’t.

I hope you don’t mind me sharing those. (Well, if you do you don’t have to keep reading…) It has been helpful for me to share, without worrying about the tears in my eyes. Learn to see the world through a child’s eyes – do not hide away from the suffering. Allow it to sink into your soul – to break your heart as it does a child’s. But also learn to see the innocence in the world again – the majesty. The awesomeness of God come down to earth as a newborn baby.

DNCIC recommendations for today:

·      Receive the Christmas story like a child.

·      Take some child-like delight in what is happening around you today.

·      Be amazed at the breath in your lungs, the pulse in your wrist, the wind in the trees, the sun upon your face, the water in your tap, the stars in the sky and the smiles on the faces of all the people who will look at you as if you are mad when you kneel down in the street and give thanks for the profligate goodness of the world that is given to us today.

·    Remember that you learned life’s really important lessons at nursery school; sit still, share your toys and clean up after yourself. If we managed these three there would be peace in the world!

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.” Albert Einstein

Homeless

N.B. All of the following 17 blogs are because I am reading ‘Do Nothing, Christmas Is Coming’ by Stephen Cottrell, ‘an advent calendar with a difference.’ Today I have actually decided to just type the entire reading for today as it ties in with so much of what I said yesterday.

What is the sound of one cracker being pulled? What about all the people who will be on their own at Christmas? What about those who don’t have a home, let alone a dining room?

About half a million people spend Christmas on their own each year. Some do this out of choice, preferring the solitude of their own company to the forced merriment of others. Some do not. Many people are just isolated, alienated, forgotten or abandoned. The overcrowded noisiness of our busy, prosperous culture can be the loneliest place on earth. Some people can go through a whole day with very little human contact. Everything is automated. We interact with our computers and our phones, but not with each other. We know the names of those who live in Albert Square. We’ve barely spoken to our own next door neighbour.

There’s another vast number of people who don’t have any home at all. Nobody is sure how many, but last Christmas the charity Crisis served 35, 000 meals in it’s shelters across London. Then there are half a million or so ‘hidden homeless’: people living in squats and bedsit, families in temporary accommodation, people sleeping on a friend’s sofa.

What is the one thing everyone remembers from the Christmas story? There was no room at the inn. God entered the world through the experience of homelessness and the rejection and isolation that goes with it. How can we reach out to those whose experience is the same today?

On Tuesday, after I had walked Beth home from GB I decided not to take the shortest route home, which meant walking up a dark, quiet road. Instead I took a longer way, which included walking up a main shopping road. It was about 10pm, and all but the mini-supermarkets and fast food restaurants were closed. As I was walking, I saw a guy sitting in the doorway of a shop covered with a duvet on the opposite side of the road. It was a cold night, but he was merrily chatting away to the few passers-by. At first I hurried by, eager to get home and buy a few bits from Tesco before they shut. However, after coming out of Tesco, my conscience got the better of my and I couldn’t walk away.

Anyway, I got Bob* and his friend some milk, (he asked for it) and sat down in the doorway next to them for a chat. The first thing I could smell was beer, which I can’t stand the smell of, but I gave them the benefit of the doubt (A lot of homeless people drink just so they don’t feel the cold as much.) and we had a good ole chat. Bob started telling me about this ‘squat’ that they’d discovered, how big it was, what it looked like etc, and how it even had running water. After a good hour, he was dying to show me this house, so once I promised I’d come along and have a look. (Yes, it was crazy but he was really friendly, if a little drunk.)

After an hour of sitting with Bob and Charlie* in a smelly, damp upstairs “bedroom” of this house (which was in fact every bit as awesome as Bob said… though it was now derelict and pretty dark by that point) with only a few small candles for light and warmth, I made my exit and headed home. Once I was out in the fresh air, I stopped for a moment to gather myself. Had that really just happened? It was perhaps the most surreal experience of my life, and yet the most human. I had never imagined, at the start of the day, that I would end it sitting in a dark, smelly, squat house with a few homeless blokes, and yet I had never been so comfortable with complete strangers. I have experienced poverty, but never so close to my own home. I don’t think I had ever relied as fully on the strength of God as during that hour.

* Yes they’re fake names. I don’t want to get him into trouble.

DNCIC recommendations for today:

• Do you know anyone who might be alone this Christmas?

• What could you do to offer them company?

• Find out about what happens in your local community to support homeless people. As well as national charities like Crisis and Shelter there are often local projects and centres that need support. Offer them some help. Take them some food and warm clothing.

“The greatest suffering is being lonely, feeling unloved, having no-one. I have come more and more to realize that it is being unwanted that is the worst disease that any human being can ever experience.” Mother Teresa of Calcutta