What to do about Brexit?

So have you decided? Do we stay or do we go? I think I know which way I will go but I don't think I have anyone else to that for that. I mean no-one seems to have the faintest idea do they? Not the news, not the newspapers (all of whom have taken the stance that their owners have taken and are the writing the news accordingly, which is what they usually do) So then you look at the personalities involved. Who do I trust? You see, for me, it doesn't help that the initial gang looked like what my Grandad used to call "The End of the Pier Show."

See what I mean? Hello! - normal people out here trying to make an informed decision. Then when we look at the politics. There's Michael Gove who makes every teacher I know make a sort of involuntary noise like a balloon being let down. And Priti Patel who seems unable to make a full sentence on Question Time. And that woman who never blinks. Then there's Ian Duncan Smith. A man whose plan for reducing the benefits bill seems to involve making a lot of sick people work until they die. We haven't even got to George Galloway - singlehandedly adding to the gaiety of the nation with that hat and pronouncements about "No" not always meaning "No". But then it's not as if anyone on the other side is any better. George Osborne says leaving will harm the economy. But he doesn't know. How can he know? One - because we have never done it and Two because The Economy seems to do what it flamin well wants most of the time which accounts for Osborne's permanently surprised expression I suppose.
Then there's  Immigration. Europe is making such a cock up of the whole thing and we are one of the few countries who can pull up the drawbridge and back off from it. But it doesn't feel right to do that does it? While these poor people are fleeing from these homicidal maniacs,  just silently thanking God for the English Channel and then going about our own jolly business seems a bit off to me.
Also there's security. Apparently, if we withdraw, Interpol will take their ball home and not tell us about possible terrorist attacks and will laugh behind their hands when it happens. Seems a bit selfish. So much to think about. 
And finally and it's not finally because there is ages to go yet - Scotland's First Minister Nicola Sturgeon has said that if we leave Scotland will be demanding another Independence Referendum. No. Please Lord No. Not again.

The Introverted Charismatic

I have read his and enjoyed it - indeed I have but I have been thinking about why I liked it. I'm basically your go-to person for introversion. I like people but sometimes I find them a bit intimidating. Most of the time I would rather be pootling around at home and doing a bit of reading. However, I have attended a charismatic church since I was fifteen. This is despite the fact that some of the most terrifying words in the English Language for me are "Turn to the person next to you and..." or "Tonight we are going to do something a bit different." 

When I was a bit younger, it used to bother me that people who were more comfortable with some of the more energetic expressions of worship would sometimes look down on me. I have lost track of how many people have come over to me during times of worship and offer to pray for my release. It used to make me feel so bad about myself I would sometimes toy with offering to help these people release their heads from their shoulders. Those days are long gone and I am who I am much more often now. (For the record the most profound God-like prayer that anyone ever prayed for me came in the middle of a meeting when a lady came up and said "Can I pray for you please? I promise I won't go mad.")

 

So why would I choose to be in a church  where there will always be a possibility that things might become a bit - er jolly? Well first of all, I do have to qualify things a bit. I have been in charismatic meetings where the Bible is a foreign land because we are just going to groove along and see what happens. Ain't going to work for me I'm afraid. I need a certain amount of structure and I am there to learn - from other people and from the Bible. If there doesn't come a point when you put your flag down, it is unlikely that you are my kind of church. That being said though, why would a shy retiring sort like myself be here at all? Firstly, just because I don't always like it does that mean it is wrong? Sometimes I think I need to ask myself - do I need to respond to God here? Is it in a public way? Do I need to support someone else as they respond? And sometimes the answer God wants from me is "Yes". 

Secondly, I think I have to be where the action is. By that I mean where God is speaking to people - today. Where people are prayed for and healed. Where people see miracles. I tend not to get intimidated these days if my worship doesn't fit your worship and graciously I would say that before you tell me that I need to be a bit more like you,  you perhaps need to be working on your own eye speck while I work on this whacking great log that is blocking my vision. Mark Tanner, the author of this book says that people like me are a gift to the church. I think I am probably more the sort of gift like bath cubes or a vase that doesn't fit anywhere that you think you can probably do without. But God says not. He says that us quiet ones have our place and it is with you - worshiping him out of my truth. Now put your maracas down and lets get on as equals.

Trying to get hold of it

So I'm casting my mind back to the mid seventies. I'm in church on Sunday nights wrestling manfully with a tambourine that has taken against me and a floppy hat that keeps going wonky. And we are singing. This was pre Hillsong, pre Matt Redman and this was considered quite funky. 

 "The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.

 The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty, is mighty, is miiiiiiiighteeee!"

(Thanks very much - I'm here all week)

It's from Zephaniah 3. How does it feel? Thinking that God "Joys Over You With Singing?" Most of the time I don't think the God looks at me and thinks - "There's someone I would like to Joy Over." It's the age old challenge - learning to see ourselves through God tinted glasses. I need to remind myself - I don't deserve this yet there it is. The mightiest mighty God - rejoices and joys - over me and over you. Just because he is who he is. It helps I think, to get a hold of that. Just thought we needed reminding. Dunno why.

Thank you

Hello, just a small shout out to says thanks for all your good wishes etc. I am feeling much better now but it was really horrible for a while - even my knees hurt. I am not one of those people who bangs on the doctor's door demanding antibiotics all the time but I gave it some thought this time tbh. Anyway much better now and hopefully will get back to a bit of writing this week. Am leaving you with photo of my handsome son playing in Battle of The Bands in York. The music isn't exactly my kind of thing, if I am being totally frank but the young people seem to like it. Also this is on it's way. Hurrah! Just loving these books.

Unwell

Chest infection
Can't eat
Can't sleep
Feeling very sorry for myself.
Unable to write
Struggling with will to live.
Hopefully back if survival proves possible (seeming unlikely at the moment)
Dog unconcerned

All the Films

Just a couple of films I thought I might tell you about. I think there is some decent stuff out there at the moment, even without considering the best film franchise ever made (Star Wars - disappointed that you had to ask) The Force Awakens is an excellent addition to the franchise but that is just really my personal happy place and I don't expect everyone to live there.

In a slightly more adult vein we also went to see "The Big Short". This is a film about the world banking crash which kind of started as a housing crash in the USA. There were fiendishly clever people around at the same time who saw the crash coming and bet huge sums of money on it happening - therefore profiting from the misery that was heaped upon innocent people who lost their houses and their jobs. I am not sure that I am selling this that well at the moment but it's an excellent, quirky and even funny film. It's quite complicated (well very complicated) but it doesn't treat you like an idiot and tries to explain what is happening - not always successfully in my case. It also has a heart, there is a great moment when suddenly the speculators know that the crash is going to make them very rich and the Brad Pitt character who has helped them get this far stops them celebrating and reminds them what is happening. By the end you will want to damage a politician, which is a bit sweeping but none of the people behind the mess has ever been jailed for any of it you know.

I took quite a lot of talking into Room as I had started the book and found it too distressing and had to ditch it. It charts the relationship between a mother and her son as they live through almost unthinkable circumstances. The son has been born to a girl who has been kidnapped held as a slave in a shed in a back garden for seven years. She has protected him for five years from the reality of their situation by telling him that his reality is the only reality and there are no other people in the world except for him, her and "Old Nick". He is protected from what Nick comes and does to his mother every night by the wardrobe she keeps him in as he sleeps. But as he begins to grow, she realises that he is in danger and things will have to change. I can't recommend this enough. It doesn't sound too promising I know but it really is - as so many others have said - life affirming. If you can go, you probably should.

There was a lot of fuss about Grandma but I found it a bit thin really. It was ok I suppose but a bit too right-on for me. Lily Tomlin is a cool lesbian nana who is also a poet (why are the people in these films always poets? No one ever works on a fish counter) I think it was supposed to be about love and mourning but I thought it was more about just whinging a lot. 

Bit Busy

This has been a quite busy few days. Work is a bit bonkers. People are taking the last of their holidays and then people are off sick so we are doubly short staffed. It is a bit wild as they say in France. All HOH and I are managing to do at the moment is work, eat, sleep and go to the flicks. (well there's good stuff out and there is nothing on the telly) 
HOH is a bit worked up this week because they are making him go on his least favourite course. This is called "Breakaway" and it is to make sure that if NHS workers get pinned down by patients, they know how to safely...er Break-away. HOH hates this for two reasons. Firstly, although it is a very necessary course for some areas of the NHS, his area is rehab - mainly of elderly people who have had falls. If any of his patients made a lunge for him, they would fall over again and need another hip replaced and the waiting list is very long as we all know. This makes this scenario unlikely and therefore a waste of time. Also, for some strange (yet, to me, highly amusing) reason, the course leader always puts HOH with some one who is a bit TOO enthusiastic. (Probably as a punishment for being so stroppy) Last time, in the role play bit, HOH found himself being squared up to by someone taking it all way too seriously and trying to drag him to the floor. All the family have asked if we can buy tickets to the course just to watch HOH shout "What DO you think you are doing?" to some poor man who is only trying to make it all a bit more realistic.
I have had a better time of it however because I got to go to a meeting at the National Marine Aquarium. Now the meeting was boring (even though it was ESSENTIAL - if my Board of Trustees are reading) but the free tour at the end was brilliant. I learnt loads. I was running from tank to tank like a five year old. Fish are spooky, I think yet somehow likeable. Anyway, this is what I found out.

• There are some new sharks there called lemon sharks which sounds a bit wussy, until you see them swim above your head and see that they are the size of small outhouses. I could have sworn that I heard the dum-dum Jaws music at one point. Apparently in the 20 years that the Aquarium has been opened, the sharks have never bitten the divers on their weekly tank cleaning. The same cannot be said for the unlucky one eyed barracuda who bumped into one of the sharks and annoyed her when she was felling a bit peckish. Fortunately it happened overnight, so no children were traumatised. 
• Also, the only hard part of an octopus is the beak so they can get through very small holes, which another aquarium discovered to their cost when their octopus managed to get into the next tank and munch on all the pretty fish. 
• There is also a 30 year old turtle in there whose epilepsy is controlled by dog medicine. 
• Did you know sea horses mate for life? And when they wake every morning, they do a little love dance to say hello to their partners? Suggest it to your partner. See if goes down as well as it did to mine. Especially if he is on his way to the Breakaway course.

January. Pah!

Psalm 31 v 15
"You are my God. My times are in your hands"

In the words of the old Pilot song. "January - sick and tired..you've been..." Sorry can't remember the rest. ( I think it was released in about 1975 - no wonder I can't remember it. I'm sure it's on YouTube if you want to hear it) Is it just me or has January been particularly bleaugh? Firstly all these celebrities keeling over. David Bowie for one. I'm not front of the queue when it comes to loving Bowie. I never find myself at a loose end on a Friday night and think - let's put a bit of Bowie on. But I do know that he meant an awful lot to a lot of (admittedly sometimes quite strange) people. Then Alan Rickman. This made me sad because no one seemed to have any kind of bad word for him. Everyone said how lovely he was, which somehow makes it sadder. Then there was Glen Frey from the Eagles, who I don't hold a particular candle for but was part of America's musical royalty. And then today, Terry Wogan. Again, a man who everyone has said was exactly like he appeared on the telly. Funny, generous, open. I have very fond memories of his morning radio programme. At a time in my early twenties, when my life was in a bit of low level turmoil, when I had to decide if I wanted to move house with my family and church life was a bit of a struggle, I would switch the radio on and Terry Wogan used to make me smile and put things into perspective. It's a rare skill. 
And, on top of all this desperate people are still getting into tiny boats and placing their precious babies on their knees while being pushed out to sea, only to find, sometimes within  half an hour that the boats are useless and a terrible fate is rising up to meet them.
I have nothing to say of any worth here, except perhaps to the lady who sat next to me in the hairdressers and announced to the room that if we took any more in, this country would sink. I think you will find that we have hardly actually taken anyone as yet so I don't think our buoyancy is in any doubt at the moment. Also to those who considered boycotting peace talks about Syria for quite understandable reasons. I am so glad to see them change their minds. However unpalatable it may be, talking to monsters, may be the only hope at the moment. 
January has been a very sobering month for one reason or another. The verse at the top of the blog is one that I have loved since I was a young slip of a thing - to the point of making a little notice with it on with a printing set. I then covered it with sellotape to protect it and stuck it on my dressing table mirror - simpler times. It helped me then and it helps me now. It's there to help you if you want. No pressure if not.

Leaving Kindness

Sunday morning, getting ready and I usually listen to Garry Richardson on Sportsweek. (I considered saying that Sunday mornings are spent in prayer and prep but I listen to Garry Richardson on Sportsweek - do you want the truth or not? ) This week he was paying tribute to his friend - Gerald Williams the tennis commentator who had died that week. Richardson told the story of how, when he was starting out as a commentator, Williams gave up his own trip to America to give Richardson his first chance. Billie Jean King shared about how when she was a seventeen year old visiting Wimbledon for the first time, Williams sneaked her on to Centre Court for a clandestine first look. Henry Winter, the sports journalist spoke of his legendary generosity of spirit. All of them spoke of the same thing - his kindness. In fact Garry Richardson was so overcome when speaking about his friend, he lost it for a few brief moments and struggled to carry on. This is highly unusual for this battle-hardened sports reporter and I was quite startled for a second.  
Gerald Williams was also a Christian - Billie Jean called it being "very religious" and his Christianity informed everything he did. He wasn't soft - just generous and thoughtful. I just think that that would be such a terrific legacy - to be remembered for your amazing kindness. It's a challenge that left me quite emotional to be honest.

Anyway just to finish with a photo of Aged Parent celebrating her birthday on Sunday. We booked a meal in a nice place but she wanted to go to the local Wetherspoons because she got to go into the charity shops on the Barbican, thus ensuring the perfect day - shopping followed by a fish and chip dinner. Do not bother me with your namby pamby meals - it is my birthday and I am going to boogie.
Happy Birthday AP!

Turning The Tide

Do you ever feel that it is too late? That you are too old and that you have neither the strength or just the general wherewithal to change things. 
A friend (with a medical qualification I'll have you know), once told me that after a certain age it becomes harder to lose any extra weight that you have been carrying. Doctors aren't sure why - possibly a slowing down of metabolism. Possibly, we just go past a tipping point. 

I think we can think that about our lives and our circumstances.That there is just too much happening, that we don't have enough in us to change anything. Things are just too big, they are just happening to you and you don't have enough strength to change anything.

Well good news my faithful companion!! We may not be able to turn things around but......

“The hand of God has turned the tide!
        The hand of God is raised in victory!
        The hand of God has turned the tide!”

I'll tell you, if I have anything that I still NEED to get hold of it's that God is God and he can do stuff - God type stuff. Things that God can do and wants to do. All of which I cannot do. Anyway this is a happy thing and it does your faith good. It's all in Psalm 118 and there's lots there. Go and have a look. Fill your boots.

Sort of Ranty Thinking

I am going to slam a lot of incoherent thoughts at you and you can ignore them if you want but I am going to do it anyway. I am still a bit preoccupied with the floods. I know that as far as the "Powers That Be" are concerned we have all moved on because it has stopped raining and a Head Has Rolled (mainly, as far as I can see, because he was on holiday when the floods came and so therefore unable to complete the compulsory "march around flooded areas in wellies looking very concerned" thing that is required at times like this)

I saw on the news that the Jorvik Centre in York was badly flooded and they have no idea when it will open again. For those who haven't been, the Jorvik Museum celebrates York's rich Viking history with interactive displays and rides though a reconstructed village. All the models (see photo)  and electrics and the like have been destroyed. I have probably mentioned that FOW1 is an archaeologist and although he is a bit sniffy about museums where you get to smell what a Viking toilet was like, he is very keen on other areas of the Jorvik. There are artefacts in there that are well over 1000 years old and if it wasn't for the quick thinking of the York Archaeological Trust they would have been lost forever. This would have been at least as distressing an event as the horrible damage to people's homes.The thing is the Jorvick, despite being situated in a basement in often damp York, has never flooded before - ever - which should tell us something about how things are going.

FOW1 saw Jeremy Corbyn doing the concerned welly walk round York and, although he has a deep fondness for the Corbster, he was struck by how much he just seemed like everyone else. Trying not to check his watch to see how soon he could scoot off back to London. And speaking of London, the Thames is tidal isn't it? But when was the last time London flooded? Well it doesn't does it because they have a state of the art, all singing, all dancing barrier. Hoorah!

I think we all know that the times, in a Global Warming sense, they are changing and it isn't enough anymore to throw a bit of dosh at something in the hope that you can build your sandbag wall a bit higher next time. We can always drag a few squaddies from their Christmas break to help you. 

No, it's surely time of a more visionary, more ecological approach. There are interesting thoughts here about a way to work with the nature that is battering the living daylights of of us - to naturally disperse the water before it hits our homes. It's visionary and thinks differently which has to be a good thing because the same old, same old just isn't working is it? Schemes like this do take investment but the very successful and innovative Thames Barrier cost £1.2 billion to build and frankly we could all do with making sure that it's not just Londoners' tootsies that don't get wet when the rains come down.

Christmas Culture

BBC

As usual, we got out and about a bit and also watched quite a lot of telly over the hols. Here is my totally non-expert view on the stuff we saw.

Dr Who
FOW 2 has been a bit off Dr Who this season. Not because of Peter Capaldi, who is obviously very good, but because she feels that the writer Stephen Moffat has been playing fast and loose with the rules. For example, she was apoplectic, when Dr Who went back to Gallifrey because he can NEVER go back to Gallifrey. I, however, am unburdened by such detailed knowledge and laughed like a drain all through the River Song Christmas episode. Sometimes I think it is an advantage to be a bit simple.

Downton Abbey
Sorry. Never seen it. Felt it was a bit cheeky joining here so I didn't and also saw that Maggie Smith has never seen it which must mean something.

And Then There Were None (Bit of a spoiler - move on if you don't want it)
This should have been amazing. I had read the book - best Agatha Christie I think but I felt the adaptation was so keen to get that Poldark chappy stripped to the waist that it upset the balance of the thing. To have the person that did the deed explain it while someone dangled on the edge of death was distracting. Much better to have a last letter explain it all. Also HOH who hasn't read the book guessed the killer within the first hour. He said it was obvious. Something wrong there then.

Sherlock
Ooooh. This one divided everyone I think. I found it a bit up itself, I'll be honest - a bit too knowing. However, I still think it is twenty times better than everything else on the telly to be honest so lets not complain too much. 

Star Wars
I know my reaction is not normal but this makes me so happy. I so loved the first films and it was so great to see someone had gone back and done it so well. It is very important to uber fans like me. (Can I just say here that despite being slightly obsessed, I have never actually thought that Jedi was a religion and for those that think so, I think you should consider the possibility that George Lucas came up with the whole idea after one too many shandys. Just a thought)

Sisters
Very funny film. Not for your Maiden Aunt if she is easily offended. Well actually if she is quite difficult to offend.

When Harry Met Sally
Family pre Christmas outing to the Arts Centre. Of course very funny and beautiful and romantic and witty and heart stoppingly brilliant. (HOH has suggested that if your Maiden Aunt will be troubled by the sight of Meg Ryan faking full on jiggy in a cafe - she may prefer to give this a miss. Good Point, Well Made)

Not bothering you with High Society, On The Town and the Frank Sinatra story. They were from my personal Sinatra afternoon and aren't anything to trouble anyone else with. You understand.

Christmas As a Learning Project

Or things I never learn over the Christmas period.

1. It goes so fast. Christmas is over in almost the time it takes to say "Is a mini ironing board an acceptable present for Aged Parent?"
2. I will always achieve less than ten percent of everything on my to do list.
3. I will always underestimate (a) The amount of time it takes to be hospitable (b) How shattering being hospitable is.
4. This does not mean that I don't enjoy being hospitable.
5. All talk of Christmas Lunch really just being a large Sunday Roast is nonsense. Despite trying manfully to pare the whole thing back I still end the day feeling something like I imagine the cook felt at the conclusion of one of Henry VIII's most jolly weddings.
6. New Year's Eve could make Pollyanna depressed. Even the dog got upset (Fireworks give him bad nerves)
7. If chocolate is in the house, I will find it and eat it - almost unconsciously. (Almost)

So bloodied but unbowed, we tick another Christmas off, having discovered, controversially, that a mini ironing board may not have gone down that well with the Kardashians but it makes an old lady with a bad back a very happy. 

Happy Christmas

Hello. Just to let you know that the blog will be going quiet over the Christmas period and I will be back with deep insights for living (or failing that lots of inane observations) in the New Year.
And, bowing to huge public demand, all that remains is for Martha Towers and especially Aged Parent (with assistance from FOW1) to wish you all a Blessed Christmas and an Amazing New Year

Nativity Overkill

It has been suggested to me that Five Nativity sets may possibly be a little over the top. I am not sure about that and I'm not taking any notice of anyone anyway but I thought I might just introduce you to them. (This is nothing like introducing you to my children either) The set above is the newest addition and this is cool and elegant Jesus with a free Bethlehem background. 

This is cute Jesus and has the advantage of having the whole stable shenanigans attached. No blu tac needed. Real straw too, therefore highly authentic

This is "I've No Idea Where This Is From Jesus" so called because I have no recollection of buying it. Still, all are welcome here.

This is Inca Fairtrade Jesus AND you can put a tealight in it. That is all.

And this is my oldest child Nativity. If you look closely you can see that most of them are propped up against each other because they have a lot of bits missing. A great deal of the damage was caused by FOW1 doing secret death match fights using them as action figures when he was little but I sort of thought if Joseph wasn't man enough to take Spiderman then God would never have chosen him to look after Mary and Jesus. Five? Too many? Nah.

A Pause in Advent #4

Gari Melchers

I wouldn't claim to know anything about good art or bad art. I just think this is amazing. Not because of the draughtsmanship which I know nothing about but I love the sentiment. Mary and Joseph are in a dirty back room. Mary has just given birth and is exhausted. Joseph looks as though he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. No angels yet or shepherds or wise men. Just a quiet moment of wondering - is this it?
Maybe sometimes miracles have very unprepossessing starts. Not every answer to prayer comes with an angel bursting through the door playing "In The Mood" on his trumpet. Sometimes we have to screw our eyes up a bit to see exactly what this seed can become. Like the tiny cloud, the size of a fist, when what the people need is a huge deluge of rain. Sometimes we have to nurture the answer, which comes quietly and without fanfare and believe that this is God, starting to answer our prayers. Seeing with the eyes of faith I think they used to call it. God may be sending us the answer we need already, we need to respond to his prompting and ask and see if he wants us to do anything to develop his miracle in our lives.  Mary and Joseph had to do it. Out of a very unpromising start came the miracle they had been promised. But it  must have looked very dark there for a while - even when things had started to move. 

This is my last part of A Pause in Advent. There are some great blogs out there about Advent. Always a blessing - never a chore. Please feel free to link in and take a look

Pause in Advent #3

Mary. You know, I think she was quite a person. I was thinking about her last night as I was blu-tacking my newest Nativity set on  to a shelf. (That makes five in total I think. NO ONE can say that they don't see anything of the original Christmas story when they visit this house at Christmas) 

I re-read the beginning of Luke and was amazed to see how much of her early journey with God was so counter intuitive to what would usually be expected.

When the Angel first visits to tell her of her pregnancy, she asks how, but once she's told, there's no "I don't fancy this, think of the trouble it will cause" Or "Are you sure? Because I will need some kind of proof - otherwise - you know - what will Joseph think?" She is certain of what she has been told, and full of praise for the miracle she is about to witness, sets her face forward to meet head on anything that is about to happen.

She leaves with Joseph when heavily pregnant. Leaves her mother - and the women who would certainly have been her birth partners behind and ploughs on alone; possibly with a man who was still eyeing her sideways and wondering if he had really heard the whole truth. Yet she is still determined to see this through. He own personal hardship does not dim the vision she has been given.

When the shepherds came, all full of stories of angel choirs and confirmation of all that she had been told, she could have stood up and shouted - "See, I told you so!" but the Bible says she kept it all in her heart - not to needing to justify herself. 

It was, obviously, a special and different time. God would see his plans come to pass and Mary would have his protection. Sometimes when I look at her and what was already within her - it seems that God saw something in this woman and picked her out - something neither she nor those around her were maybe aware of. There are maybe lessons here for all of us about what God sees in us and what we see in ourselves. What we feel is achievable and what God knows is achievable. It's switching from one track to the other that is the challenge for us.

Part of A Pause In Advent 2015.
Go here to link up to some great stuff.

Sacrificial

To the Joy Unbounded that is B and M Bargains. We have taken Aged Parent because she has always wanted to go to the massive B and Ms in Cornwall. Have given Head of House a stern talking to. He is not a great shopper (unless he is in Armani and those days are long gone, Buster). He likes to go in, choose what he wants and leave - preferably within thirty seconds. This is the exact Polar Opposite of Aged Parent who feels if an aisle is worth looking at, it's worth looking at four times. I feel that if everyone compromises, all will be well. Thirty minutes in, we are halfway down Aisle One and Head of House is sitting disconsolately on a £19.99 chaise longue which doesn't look that sturdy to me. I am running between the two trying to keep everyone happy. Well, actually Aged Parent is oblivious to any tension as she is thrilled by her purchase of 40 Christmas cards for £1.99. I am quite concerned that when you hold them up you can see through them but she reassures me that it is "Only for the people in the Sheltered Housing"
Head of House cheers up a bit when we find an enormous steak and kidney pudding in a tin, which is technology at its most advanced as far as he is concerned. After what seems like a lifetime, we retreat to Waitrose next door for overpriced coffee and a pastry that Aged Parent has to take all the nuts off. She shares interesting story about a lady she knows who was "a bit of a girl" when she was younger.
"Apparently, all the Matelans were queuing up for her when she was young"
"Mum, I don't claim to be an expert in naval terms but I'm pretty certain that it is "Matelots" that you mean."
Aged Parent gives me hard stare and moves on - completely unconvinced that these sailors do not share their name with the well known discounting store.
Anyway - bottom line. Nice morning really - once we all got used to each other.
HOH and I soothed our troubled brows later on by going to see Bridge of Spies. It's very good. Really good. Spielberg is really very good at what he does for a living.
In other exciting news. I have booked my Star Wars tickets. I'm not going on the first night because that's when all the people who like to dress up as Wookies go and that's a bit much even for me. Am going as soon as I can after that though. Happy Days! 

A Pause in Advent #2

Our Advent services proper started this morning at church. A good title don't cha think? Clever. Nothing to do with me. This morning we were talking about (well - I wasn't - the pastor was) ..John, John The Baptist that was it, and Zachariah and Elizabeth. And I got thinking (After the service obviously - I was paying rapt attention throughout) It was the angel, that did it. The rustle of an angel's wing. Small beginnings. An almost imperceptible noise. Did the shepherds hear that flutter before they saw the angels  in all their glory?

And a prayer. The answer to a prayer. Zachariah and Elizabeth had thought it was too late for them. Zachariah hears the rustle of an angel's wings just while going about his day to day business in the temple and then he sees the miracle. 

Sometimes things start small. An answer may not come how you expect it. We should maybe learn to see God answering us quietly first and in unexpected ways. Such as the kindness of a local businessman who offers his shed to a young couple with nowhere to sleep. Or a star, a twinkly light in an unexpected place, reminding us we are loved and watched over.

We can despair or think we are forgotten. We can worry that the promised end seems as far away as ever. Yet, at this time, something in the heavens was stirring as God moved to put his plan into action. Sometimes it was obvious and angels sang in the sky but the small signs of God moving must have been there before, when people - shepherding their sheep, serving their God (though fearing they had been forgotten) and exhaustedly keeping on going despite everything -  out of nowhere, suddenly heard the rustle of an angel's wings 

Part of A Pause In Advent. Lots of good stuff linked through here

For the outsiders

I was just thinking, as you do. I kept thinking about those who feel on the outside of things – for whatever reason. Those who feel passed over. Those who never feel asked to the party. Those who feel it all goes on without them being able to be part of things. Three stories

The woman who hemorrhaged – for twelve years mind you – this was no passing ailment. She had been brought so low that as she reached out for Jesus, through the throng and those stronger than her, the place she was at was on the floor. So low that as she reached out her hand she touched the lowest, furthest part of him. It was all she could do. It didn’t matter. It was enough. Jesus felt her touch. He responded.  No one is too low.

The woman at the well. So sick of herself. So afraid of the constant judgement of the predicament she had got into, that she absented herself from life. She went to the well – did the things that were necessary for everyday life – at times when no one else was there. She cut herself off. Avoided everyone who might pass judgement. And Jesus finds her. He finds her in her hiding place. He goes out of his way and outside of the expected timeframe to find her. He talks to her through the looks he gets from his disciples, because he sees the person, even though he is well aware of the life she lives.

The centurion with the sick servant. He is from a different culture – a different understanding. He is not sure how to reach this Jesus. He does not feel on the same page, knows he needs something but cannot quite see how to get over the gulf. He sends out messengers – forerunners. He protects himself by insisting that Jesus doesn’t need to come. He manages to reach out while insisting on a distance. Jesus can work with that. He can take whatever you feel you can give. He will love at whatever point you are at. Jesus took it as a great credit that the centurion had felt able to reach out at all.

The lost, the lonely, the marginalised – either by life’s circumstances or their own behaviour. So many stories about Jesus and his ability to reach all – even the most trembly, crushed and messed up. 

Pause in Advent

So, despite my best efforts, Christmas has genuinely started - or at least the countdown has. Don't get me wrong - I LOVE Christmas. I'm just not that keen on it in September. 

Everyone, I meet says how annoying it is that we are constantly bombarded with Christmas adverts from just after the kids go back to school. Yet still people keep glancing at the Christmas decs, just itching to get the tree out and wrestle with the lights. Advertisers know that they are pushing on an open door when it comes to an earlier and earlier Christmas, Otherwise, why would they bother? So why do we say we hate how much earlier Christmas has become and yet allow ourselves to be taken along by it?

I think it's maybe partly because people need Christmas. (I am now fighting off an image from my youth of a long haired, lady playing the acoustic guitar and crooning - not entirely successfully - "People neeeed the Lord." Funny what stays in your memory banks ) First of all, those of us that are blessed enough not to work in retail or health care need the break. It's a legitimate chance to stop, to just stop doing everything and that makes Christmas important. (And for my money, that is one reason why moves to open shops on Christmas Day should be resisted by all means possible)

There is something else there though. After a difficult and sometimes dismal year people sense something. They sense a hope. An exhortation to be good to each other, beyond our own selfish desires and ambitions. Christmas brings with it the possibility that there is a plan and a purpose, despite very inauspicious beginnings. I think that people almost don't know it, but Christmas still stirs something within them - a possibility of the impossible - Peace on earth. Goodwill to Men. As a little girl, I was taught that these things has a condition in front of them - for peace and goodwill you had to take on board the first part of this verse in Luke and put God in his right place. That way, men can get that break and that rest from the daily troubles, that we long for. It's not much point in us trying to make it happen ourselves - not really. Not with our track record.


Luke 2
 Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

 As this is part of a link up - as the month goes on, can I draw your attention to some blogs taking part in A Pause in Advent. Have a look. 

http://angalmond.blogspot.co.uk/


http://www.faith-hope-and-confusion.com/2015/11/a-pause-in-advent-1.html

Last week I have been...

"The Lady in the Van film poster" by Source. Licensed under Fair use via Wikipedia 

Reading stories from Paris and wondering about the courage of people and how they carry on afterwards. I am not writing too much about Paris here. I am not sure I have the skills to do it justice. 

Taken delivery of FOW2 for a weekend. She was came home to go to a concert. You do a sort of almost imperceptible gulp at the moment when your loved ones go to a public event but we need to carry on I think. Anyway she was convinced that bombing type people would have no idea who the band "The 1975" are so she felt quite safe. In exchange for a lift to the gig she accompanied me next day as I took Aged Parent to The Range. This was a bit of a rollercoaster. After having a heated argument with HOH about whether "Lametta" is a real word, I was very pleased to find a packet there and send him a photo, however was unable to talk Aged Parent out of her instant affinity for an exploding glitter Santa.

I was slightly put out to hear that security at Plymouth's dockyard is being stepped up in the wake of the attacks. There are nuclear submarines there. I was hoping security was already quite "stepped up" there as a general principle to be frank with you.

Out to watch The Lady In The Van. They are pushing on an open door a bit with me. I love Alan Bennett. His observation about day to day is outstanding. Maybe you have to be from the North of England to really get it but I am certain I have met around fifty percent of the people he talks about. 

I have already seen The Lady In The Van on stage. It was very good but I liked this more. It tells the "mostly true" story of an old lady who lived in a van which Bennett allowed her to park on his drive for fifteen years. She was cantankerous and had "interesting" toileting habits but Bennett said "She never impinged."  Maggie Smith is as perfect as you would expect obviously. However, I thought Alex Jennings was at least as impressive as Bennett. I read that Jennings wasn't too bothered about it being seen as Maggie Smith's film but was a bit taken aback to see it billed as starring Maggie Smith and James Corden (Corden is in it for about fifteen seconds) It's well written as you would expect and sometimes really funny. It's not a barrel of laughs though - you won't be holding your sides when  you come out because it is also really quite sad. People behave the way they do for lots of reasons and life is sometimes quite harsh to those who don't quite fit the mould. There's a lot of kindness here though and, at the moment, I can't think of a better reason to recommend a film to you.

In Praise of Lists

I am the type of person who scours the Internet to see what it is that I am doing wrong. Having spent some time perusing Twitter (to find some nice photos of Jeremy Vine and Karen Clifton in Strictly. I have left Strictly now they have gone. Too many semi danced trained, low level showbiz types for me - sorry.) I have come across a few things talking about the tyranny of lists and getting rid of this oppressive scourge. Well not me matey. I have a list. I have an ongoing list. My list is going nowhere. I will admit that the whole planner thing has gone a bit too far. I have never really felt the need to buy stickers with little glasses of water on them to tell me to drink six pints a day or whatever. I also freely admit that I find it a teeny bit sad that people spend fifteen quid on a stamp that says "To Do" rather than just scrawl it. (Actually, I don't even need to that. If it's written down - it needs to be done. That is all)

Firstly, I notice that a lot of these people who rattle on about leaving yourself free to run through God's Open Fields of Thoughtfulness or whatever are not burdened by my working patterns. I am full time - nine to five. I can't break off for a couple of hours to sit on a hill. It won't go down well with the Powers That Be. I cannot count on their understanding. This does not just apply to people who work. Lots of people are so committed to lots of things, they just can't "go with the flow". 

Also I am old and I forget things and if things that I need to do are not staring balefully out at me when I open my diary, there is every chance that they won't get done. I am the King, Queen and Princess Royal of mentally sidelining things that I don't fancy. Writing it down will make it unavoidable; a Thing That Must Be Done. Consequently, when the task is complete, I have found that there are few things more satisfying than running a highlighter pen through one of these conscience prodders.

I find, it makes time for me. It really does. I use a list to both write down what I need to do but also to limit my expectations. I may need to do eight hundred and forty things but if I write down the three most urgent for the next five evenings, I will usually do those things and then skip off and do what I want to do. This means things get done and I feel good. Otherwise there is every chance that you will find me curled up in a ball under the bed crying because I am overwhelmed by how much needs to be done and I have spent the whole evening watching re-runs of Only Connect - even though I have already seen every episode- just to take my mind off them.

As I age, I am more aware of how quickly time passes. The prospect of having a life that, one day, allows me to lie on my belly in the sun and daily contemplate God's goodness is very attractive but today, I have so many things I have to do, that I need to remember them. 

Right Time. Right Place.

Hello. Sort of feel the urge to tell you a story, that I know I have told before. Can't remember if it was here or not. Feel free to skip it if you know it. I would. It's quite long, hope it isn't too long.
When I was at school, I was rubbish at sport. Really rubbish. In fact if being rubbish at sport ever became an Olympic Sport, I would be a multi gold medal winner. (I understand how unlikely this scenario is) 
Believe it or not I actually spent some time as part of a class hockey team. Not because I had suddenly become a hero with a hockey stick but because:
a) My friends were all in the team and they wanted me with them - however burdensome I was.
b) No one else wanted to do it.

For a while it wasn't too difficult. I was a defender in a really good team so the goalkeeper and I spent more time playing air guitar with our sticks than actually staving off attacks. Eventually though, and despite my best efforts, we were promoted. Then it all went wrong. I kept finding myself up against much better players, players that my friends could not protect me from. Week after week I watched wingers maraud past me, and put in amazing crosses. It was really hard work. I could have taken out shares in witch hazel, I spent so long bathing bruises. But I carried on. I turned up every week and although I was praying to be dropped, I decided that I wasn't going to walk away. I trained hard - to no avail and my worst fears were confirmed when we played the league leaders. When I saw their winger I immediately demanded a sex test. She passed me again and again, legs pumping like pistons. I was having a torrid time. Then, out of the blue as she ran towards me again, I breathed hard, remembered the training for once, stepped into the tackle properly and smashed the ball back upfield. It was a brilliant tackle and it seemed to break my opponent's spirit. Either that, or she was too shocked to continue. 
The spectators were as surprised as anyone else. As we trooped off the pitch at the end - I could hear people openly saying - How did SHE manage that? My gym teacher, who I thought could barely remember my name, replied to those around her. "She deserved that. She kept going. Made sure that when the opportunity came she was ready for it. Right place right time."

I wish I could say that this was the start of a great hockey career but I was soon out of the team and they were better for it. (Much better) but I still think about it sometimes. When I am tempted to give up and walk away, I think - what if I miss it? What if the good thing happens and I have legged it out of there? 
Maybe that is what this means

Galatians 6:9-10The Message (MSG)

9-10 So let’s not allow ourselves to get fatigued doing good. At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don’t give up, or quit. Right now, therefore, every time we get the chance, let us work for the benefit of all, starting with the people closest to us in the community of faith.

Though a Strange Lens

"Partridge Family first cast 1970" by ABC Television - eBay itemphoto frontphoto back. Licensed under Public Domain via Commons - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Partridge_Family_first_cast_1970.JPG#/media/File:Partridge_Family_first_cast_1970.JPG

I'm sat in the Sunday Morning Meeting, as you do. I'm alone as HOH is tending to the needs of the sick at the hospital and I'm looking round a bit. My eyes see a few people sat to my right. Our church is cavernous, so they are not exactly sat on top of me. They are people I know of rather than know - if you get me. They are medical people, really nice. They do stuff for God in far off places in their spare time. They are going through some testing health problems which they are bearing with good faith and application. I spoke to him once and was amazed to find that he had not been a Christian for very long. He attended an Alpha course and it had gone from there. Amazing. Then, as I do, I compare these people to me. I see all they will achieve for God and I wonder if I have left it too late. They are nice. I am not nice. They have maturity and gravitas. Er... This can lead to me wondering if I am really much of a Christian at all and if God could really have done much better for himself. Then, out of nowhere, I came over all David Cassidy.

I don't know if you remember David Cassidy. When I was young, it was one of three. The cool girls loved David Cassidy. The really cool girls loved Michael Jackson. The rest of girlhood loved Donny Osmond. I was team Donny. I know. I don't care.
David Cassidy was beautiful though. You had to admit that. So I used to watch him in The Partridge Family. I loved the Partridge Family. I had no idea what was going on really but anyway. I think they were a pop band made up from a family. They would go "on the road", have wacky adventures and then sing a jolly pop song at the end. Think S Club Seven with Shirley Jones as their Mum. That kind of thing. Then, because David Cassidy was beautiful, he started doing stuff on his own. And there was a song, Not much of a song but it had a lyric. 

In the eyes of the world I'm a loser just wastin' my time
I can't make a dime
In the eyes of the world being born was my first big mistake

I can't get a break
But in the eyes of my woman I stand
Like a hero, a giant, a man who's as tall as can be
Any fool can see

That she's lookin' through the eyes of love
Lookin' through the eyes of love
Lookin' through the eyes of love when she looks at me-ee.

And I thought. That's what God does - with me. He sees me differently than I see myself. Reminded me a bit of this in Galatians. 

What actually took place is this: I tried keeping rules and working my head off to please God, and it didn’t work. So I quit being a “law man” so that I could be God’s man. Christ’s life showed me how, and enabled me to do it. I identified myself completely with him. Indeed, I have been crucified with Christ. My ego is no longer central. It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. The life you see me living is not “mine,” but it is lived by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I am not going to go back on that.

And I felt ok. There are complicated transactions going on here. Much more complicated than me and how I feel about myself sometimes. But it is taken care of. It is sorted. Christians should feel comforted and secure. Because we are.

New Week

"Spectre poster" by Source. Licensed under Fair use via Wikipedia - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Spectre_poster.jpg#/media/File:Spectre_poster.jpg

Monday  has zoomed round again, as it does and I have looked back on a less than momentous week - the highlights of which I am happy to share. So last week, I was mostly...

• Taking Aged Parent to Aldi and watching the crowds of students miraculously part as she informed the room that Syrup Of Figs was doing wonders for her constipation. She has no boundaries but at least we can get to the fish freezer easily.
• Going to watch The Bond. I wish I liked Spectre more. I would love to like The Bond, packed as it is with great people - Rory, Ben, Ralph and, of course Dave Batista. And it's British and cool. But it was so long. Hours long, and I get a bit bored of car crashes and punching people and torture. Where are the jokes? It used to be full of quips. Not very funny quips, I'll give you that but a least they were having a go. The beginning is really good, a great set piece but then, well not so good for me. The villain was annoying me - why wasn't he wearing any socks under his trousers? There is a moral choice at the end that JB would NEVER make which was a puzzle. And Monica Belluci needs to phone her agent. All she gets to do is look Italian (Which she does fabulously well) get pushed against a mirror by JB, do a bit of jig-a-jig, then never be seen again. Lots of people loved it. HOH liked it. He told me - "It's not really for you is it?"
• Turned on the Festival of Remembrance to hear them singing Praise My Soul rather beautifully, only to have the whole thing ruined by Pixie Lott giggling though it like I used to do at school. (In my defence - I was eleven) This, I think, is was happens when you try to put showbiz into intelligent, thoughtful things. I'm not sure what her contribution was because I switched on late. I'm willing to bet she had spent some time earlier murdering "We'll Meet Again" - making it sound like a threat rather than a promise.
• Been over to Amazon to pre-order the new Pen Wilcock, Hawk and The Dove book. (Highly recommended by the way) It's not due out till February but, I like to be in the queue. It's a British thing I think. 
• Felt a bit sick - along with HOH, for a couple of days. We are a bit concerned that our duvet is trying to kill us. It's really efficient. Too efficient and we both keep waking up boiling hot with bad heads. I could do with the weather going a bit colder to be honest or we may not survive the Autumn. 
• Managed to leave my phone at work Friday night and decided that, rather than go back for it, I would have a phone free weekend. Have been approached by four people (one a bit worried that I had been kidnapped or sold into slavery apparently) moaning that they couldn't get in touch with me. Will need to rejoin human race today unfortunately and return to phone.

Other than that, I worried a bit, prayed a bit, got on with it, as you do. Bring on the next week.