How rude

I have been away from blogging. It was very rude to leave without a by your leave. This is not a Northern thing to do. I apologise. In my defence I have had a month and a half - in a month - all squashed in. 

• FOW1 has had a friend to stay for a weekend. Not that I was involved much in that but my job was to keep the bathroom clean which turned out to be a full time job.
• We had a very welcome invasion from Northern type relatives for a few days. 
• All members of family, except, me hit milestone birthdays - 18, 21 and 60. You can work out for yourself which is which.
• We have had leave from work and also been to London to see lots of theatre and cinema and history and shopping and stuff. And eating. Lots and lots of eating - trash mostly.
• Went to London with HOH-ON OUR OWN . Mooched around in a lovely romantic way without teenagers five yards behind asking where Bella Italia is.
• FOW2 got her A level results. AAA* since you ask - thank you very much.

It has been so busy. A more organised person would have blogged every day and kept you abreast of developments. I meant to, I really did. Instead, I kept guiltily looking at my laptop in the corner staring at me like a puppy I hadn't fed. (I have no idea why I wrote that, I have never not fed a puppy)

I have also been brave and booked for a writers' day in London in October. I don't really do things like this but really wanted to go so I went for it. Can always pull out (no, no I won't - almost certainly not)

So if you are still there, thank you. I shall attempt to continue as things were before the month that has just passed intervened. Can't say I am sorry though. We had a great month!

What have we become?

Guardian

Some people made a terrible mistake this week. A shocking horrifying mistake. A passenger plane was shot down. They weren't aiming for a passenger plane, but that was what they hit. Because of that mistake nearly two hundred people - perhaps eighty of them children, including these beautiful faces here, lost their lives in a horrible, horrible way.
It is the kind of thing that should stop us in our tracks. We should be asking ourselves - is this too far? Does this awful thing show us just how near to the abyss we are? We should be asking ourselves these things personally but also as nations. Our leaders should be leading us to our knees. Yet, what do we see? Politicians on all sides jockeying for position. Trying to take advantage. Pointing fingers. We see people playing for time, hiding evidence, stopping grieving families finding their loves, their babies.Trying to shift the blame, to absolve themselves of all responsibility.
I am naive, I know. I sort of thought that something like this would make people stop. Say "Hang on a minute - this is too much, too far. Let's talk together like grown people who have maybe seen too much."
It seems not. I am afraid for what we are all becoming.

Things you get used to

 
I have realised these things about myself

1. I will never be any good at structured dance. Now set me off in a room with Motown and - yes sir, I can boogie - a bit. Put some dance moves in and you have lost me. I hokey when everyone else is doing the cokey. I dread it when some wag at the front of church says "Let's all do the children's actions to this!" Because I know that, sooner rather than later, I will be facing forward when everyone else is facing backward. Or I will be wildly doing the helicopter on my own when everyone else has decided not to go for a second verse. I have never been to a Ceilidh. I am too afraid that carnage will follow.
2. I will never be able to tan the back of my legs. It's summer and my legs are out. HOH insists that as I go about my business and walk about at lunch etc, then the flabby calves at the back will gradually tan. This does not happen - ever. Front of legs are brown. Back are very white. Unattractive stripes naturally follow. Most of my leg tanning happens at lunch when I sit on a bench in the park and read my book. I have thought that one way to deal with this may be by lying on my stomach on the bench for the duration of my lunch. Concerned friends insist that this will bring unwanted attention from the local constabulary.
3. Whenever I run into people that I have not seen for a long time, I always look like I have been cleaning out caravans. I never, ever run into anyone unexpected when I am on my way to a wedding and I am reasonably turned out. Thus, I am convinced that there is a community of people out there that I have not seen for a while who are convinced that I have fallen on hard times and are packing up food parcels for me as we speak.

This is who I am and although it is annoying sometimes, it's not that important. What other people make of me when it comes to unimportant things should never be keeping me awake. It does sometimes and I have to speak sternly to myself because I am accepted. Not just in the big stuff but in the little things that sometimes band together and make me feel like a donk. I love God's attention to detail - my detail. 

^{Matthew 10 v 29}“What’s the price of a pet canary? Some loose change, right? And God cares what happens to it even more than you do. He pays even greater attention to you, down to the last detail—even numbering the hairs on your head!

I may never be able to dance the merengue - makes no difference to God. I may have lots to learn but here today, I am accepted, it is sorted. Onwards!

Letting it go

They couldn’t take their eyes off them—Peter and John standing there so confident, so sure of themselves! Their fascination deepened when they realised these two were laymen with no training in Scripture or formal education. 

So I'm reading this in the Message in Acts, and I get to thinking about Peter. Not John so much. He always strikes me as being the one that has it all sorted. The quiet, faithful, groovy one. I always think of John of being a bit like Jazz music or Jimi Hendrix or something. Can't help you with why that would be.
Anyway, back to Peter, it's that phrase, "standing there so confident"  He's a man perfectly at ease with himself and with his God. He's doing great things. He's like McFaddyn and Whitehead and there ain't no stopping him now. Yet not so long ago, he was broken. He had so messed up. Made himself look a fool. He declared undying love and devotion to Jesus and then couldn't follow it though. He let Jesus down - big time. He knew it. He accepted it.He was ready to leave the life of God behind and go back to fishing for a living. So what made the difference? Well lots of things, you know about the sort of things,the coming of the Holy Spirit, Jesus' calling - all the epic stuff.
There was, I think, also a quieter, more personal thing. Peter was able to receive his forgiveness. It is obvious to us that Jesus forgave Peter for his behaviour. It was done with as far as he was concerned. But then there is the next step in forgiveness. If you are forgiven, you need to BE forgiven. You need to act it, take it, do it. If it's gone, it's gone - move on, get on with the life you have been given. It does not honour God to keep dragging events back up that he has dealt with. It can be a bit self indulgent if we are not careful. God had stuff for Peter to do. He needed to be preaching and healing and getting bolshy with religious leaders and standing next to John while people got their astonished faces on. Even with God's power, he couldn't have done that if he was all "woe is me."
In truth, I don't know if Peter wrestled privately with what he had done in the past, but it didn't seem to let it affect his purpose and the way he lived his life. 
Being forgiven is supposed to make us feel good - if we let it.

Prayers

The Internet is a funny thing. Blogging is even stranger. For quite a while now, I have been following a blog. I have never met the lady but from her musings, I understand her to be a woman of God, a preacher, a server, devoted to her family and her community. She likes a simple life, frugality and her home. Last night, I heard through another blogger friend that her husband had died. He had been ill for some time but the possibility of his death coming sooner rather than later had only really become into being in the last few weeks. His death must have been an awful shock. So this evening, in the spirit of God's community as well as a blogging community, I'm adding my prayers to those of her friends, for her and her family; that God will support them and they will feel his love and security at this time. And that those who mourn will be comforted.

It's July!

No really it is. This week at work, had horrible conversation which sort of ticked through a few diary dates and then pointed out that when they were done, it would be time to start writing letters out for the CHRISTMAS DRAW! Ignore it - I am.

It is very humid here in the South West of England, so that everyone has one of those headaches which feels like you have a cartoon anvil on your head. The days are a bit energy sapping, I think, I do struggle to get stuff done when it's like this. Then, there are the twin distractions of Wimbledon and the World Cup. I am more of a footbally type person, I'm afraid. Probably means I'm common as muck but there you are.

Fruit of Womb One has returned to the fold for the summer (or at least some of it) This means that whenever I leave the house, I need to be careful always to return with a French Stick just in case the hunger pangs are overwhelming. (He is thin as a rake by the way) Aged parent has also joined in by stacking her freezer with food - just in case. 

He spent nearly seven hours on the train to get back and he doesn't have the shortest legs. He said it seemed like seven days. Myself, I just prayed for travelling mercies and got on with my day. The young people laugh when I pray for travelling mercies - not the praying - the phrase. Apparently, it makes me sound like something out of The Crucible. Well...

1. Ask me if I am bothered.
2. I think I might look quite fetching in one of those bonnets.
3. I love the phrase "Travelling Mercies.". It has everything. An acknowledgement that God is in charge, you can't think of everything that might happen and this just acknowledges that God watches over us. I love it. I am very much a commit it to God - all of it - kind of person.

If it were up to me, this family would still be singing "Jesus Tender Shepherd" before we went to bed. Apparently, that would be quite weird for a family in which the youngest member is 18.

"Jesus Tender Shepherd, hear me.
Bless thy little lamb tonight.
Through the darkness, be thou near me
Keep me safe till morning light
Amen"

To be sung in child's lisping voice while parent sobs. Possibly to be followed by "This Little Piggy Went To Market" if they insist.

Weekend - exciting nights and lazy days (not really)

All go at Martha Towers. Aged mother taken to car boot and out for breakfast. Although am still recovering from conversation last time we took her out.

Mum   That's a nice dress
Me      Thank - you
Mum   Makes you look slim
Me      I think I am quite slim - all things considered (Two babies and a fondness for Lemon Drizzle)
Mum   No, no you have quite a belly on you now but that dress helps a lot.

I have known people in counselling for less!
 
On returning, sit down to book theatre tickets for trip to London with offspring. Decide to go and see well reviewed play with Carey Mulligan and Bill Nighy. All goes well when booking, plenty of seats available, (This should really have been a red flag to me) and I come to the payments page and find that 4 tickets - including one student - comes to £546.00! How much? Do I get to come and share your lovely home with Marcus Mumford for a week for that? I think it out again and we will be going to see The Commitments. 

Off to church Sunday pm. Manage to get myself sat next to lady who spends first half of meeting sobbing gently into her hanky. Try to convince myself that it is hay fever but realise that it probably isn't. Toy with idea of putting caring hand on shoulder but lady is with husband/son/glamorous Spanish paramour (am not sure which) and he appears blissfully unconcerned so feel this would be interfering. Get no help from HOH who is pretending to be totally immersed in worship. Think meeting cannot get more uncomfortable when worship leader instructs us to break into groups and share something to pray about. WELL THANK YOU! Can I just say, I would be more impressed with that idea if you got off your safe space on the platform and joined us lesser mortals sitting next to woman in middle of fully fledged nervous breakdown. Try to catch eye of lady with tissue that is now very nasty but she turns her back to me and points out Bible verse to her chap. Reassure myself with probability that God is dealing with situation and turn back to HOH. Spend pleasant five minutes with heads together, in approximation of prayer, discussing how badly Brits generally deal with pew based mental collapse.
As meeting ends, lady leaves with speed of bullet fired from gun, proving herself immune to my pastoral caring face which I am wearing in case she needs it. We also leave, as soon as FOW2 has chatted for several hours. 

Retire to bed. Am going back to work. Am quite tired - again.

PS If you could just add Adrian Plass to your prayer list as he has recently had a stroke. If there is a Christian in Britain who has not been blessed by this gentleman, I have yet to meet them. He is fantastic and funny and wise. Please pray for him and his family.

 

Looking to recover my balance

Having been in a sort of blah place where nothing is wrong but not much is right either I have asked God what to do when, to be honest, I didn't really want to do anything. I have thought that I might come to a place where I leave all this blah feeling behind immediately, stepping out of it like a pencil skirt at the end of the day and becoming free. Instead, I am finding that I am moving forwards again, albeit slowly, as circumstances change and I actually do some stuff.

First, the hole in the ground by our pipes has been filled and the phone is mended. Call me a surface kind of person and you would essentially be right. Had as I try to rise above my circumstances, when things are suffering then so am I. Cue improvement in mood.

Then, nose to the grindstone and get the work done that needed doing. Procrastination is all very well when there is football to watch but when I have stuff piling up I start to feel a bit like that woman on the advert for laxative pills - you know, a bit bloated and flabby. So catching up with stuff I HAD to do, both at home and work and being able to give it a satisfying tick in my ticky book also helped my mood.

On a slightly more spiritual note, and requiring slightly more effort from someone who has not really been hit too hard with the spiritual Christian stick, is a morning ritual. In this case I am defining ritual as a religious habit which I don't think is the dictionary definition but don't bother me with trivialities. 
For better people than me the shower is where they do their best thinking. For me, the shower is where I get my revenge. I make some of my best "No! You listen to me..." speeches in the shower. It's not a great way to start the day. So when I came across this in Chronicles

They were also to stand every morning to thank and praise the Lord.
1 Chronicles 23 v 30
 
It made me think. I am doing the standing already. Maybe it would be better to fill my head with God, every morning, rather than than worry and fear, while I stand, in the shower. It's a ritual. A habit. Something good  to follow. Something that lets God in and helps me start the day with him rather than just me. It's a bit wet but I don't think God is bothered.

The power of standing

I have been, as my Grandad used to call it, "A bit mazy". Life has made me a bit woolly at the edges. There is nothing wrong with me but life and then more life have left me a bit ..well mazy.

Nothing too horrible or anything but work has been hard (I think it's supposed to be) Parent has needed support (not her fault - that is also supposed to happen)  House is full of exam activity. (All done now) and our pipes need digging up and the insurance company is giving the situation its full attention. (Or it will be just as soon as it runs out of excuses not to)

I'm doing all the right things. I'm eating well (If you don't included a mega packet of Aldi Crisps on Friday night) Sleeping well. Counting my blessings (and they are many) and just getting on with it. Still, there are times when you just need to hold the line, remember who you are and what you believe and wait for God to perk you up.

2 Timothy 1 v 12
I couldn’t be more sure of my ground—the One I’ve trusted in can take care of what he’s trusted me to do right to the end

Birthday Bumblings

So it's my birthday and we wander off for breakfast at Secco in  the Royal William Yard. See above for view. All very lovely and Plymouth is tres bonny non?

Anyway we are driving back from breakfast and conversation turns to Carole King's Tapestry album as I suppose it does for everyone really. And I say "I've never owned it but every song is a winner I think" Then we get home and open my pressies and from FOW1 is yep Carol King's Tapestry. WHAT!!?? And they say there isn't a God. (Actually can't make any actual sensible connection between this and the existence of  a God but it made me smile)

While I am on the God type of subject have a look at this link. Prayer - so flippin huge and so very rarely treated with the awe it deserves.

That's why we pray.

I read a good interview with Tim Vine this week. He was talking about all the choruses he sang when he was a child and I knew them all. Unfortunately, I also remember that I was a teenager rather than a child when I sang them As you probably know, I am a bit of a hymn person, although I do like a chorus when it's done good and noisy as God intended, if you get my drift.

Anyway was thinking about this 

"Oh what peace we often forfeit, oh what needless pain we bear.
All because we do not carry - everything to God in prayer."

There is so much truth here that I am prepared to overlook the strange memories I have of my Mum's version of this by Slim Whitman (a bit singy for me)

I can't speak for you lot but, as usual I have so much going on here and the last thing I think of doing is praying. Really - it is last on my list. Only when I am really desperate and can't find a way out will I pray. Good grief, I bet even the atheists do that! If I spent as much time in prayer as I do thinking "What am I going to do?" or making "Get my own back" speeches in the shower, I would be giving Daniel  a run for his money in the prayer warrior stakes. So, with a view to putting that right, I give you the things that are doing my head in, just as I am giving them to God. Some are real, some are imagined, some have happened, some may happen, some may not. Whatever, they are God's for the doing with whatever he wants. I spect he'll be better at dealing with it all than I am.

Work, Daughter's exams, Son's dissertation, HOH work, HOH knees, Wet rot, Dry rot, Dog's bowels, elderly parent, old car, finding new car, double glazing, pensions, writing, feeling knackered, church, rendering, finances, summer holidays, thinking of what's for tea, drains being dug out, Christians chained up while giving birth, not getting enough sleep, finding time to read the Bible, trying to like people I don't like, struggling with forgiveness, wondering if God gives up.

Fraid it's not all there but that will do for now I think. No pressure God.

Romans 8:26-28

Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.