Oooh baby do you know what that's worth.....

So, I am reading this Rob Bell at the moment. Bit disappointed so far. Firstly, I had been told that it was controversial and stated that hell/heaven doesn't exist. Well he doesn't seem to have said it so far, unless I missed it. (Wouldn't be the first time)
To be fair, I haven't finished yet so the juicy bit may be on the way. Secondly, I do find his writing style a bit annoying..  Not so much the style, it's the way it's set out. Like it's written for idiots. Especially from the man who is supposed to be the great communicator. It's all this

One Line
Followed by another line
Followed by a.
Word.
Then a pause.
Erm, what did he just say?

It's probably just me. It usually is. He does ask some really important, difficult questions about eternity. Wish I understood his answers. I'll tell you what I do like about it though. I like the general theme about heaven sort of starting now. When I was a young Christian lass, it was considered very un-spiritual to think about this life too much. We were going to leave it all behind to go to the "meeting in the air" - which was hopefully going to be a bit more lively than some I went to, so "the world"as it was rather negatively called could just go and boil its head. We were to wait for Jesus, while bouncing up and down at meetings, occasionally going out to bark thinly veiled threats to people about hell and wondering why people didn't come to church.
I remember being surprised to learn that there were people who were translating their faith into being very much alive now which led to social justice, caring for others, trying to change the world and having a good time while you were doing it. I sort of pointed at this gang and informed my lot that I was going over there to play. I think it is generally a "good thing" that Christians seem to be more engaged with this life. Young Christians often now have a life plan, ambition and a career (even the women). These are some of the things I wish were around when I was younger like penicillin, electricity, David Beckham and votes for women. (this is more or less how old my kids think I am)
When the final trump sounds (cue sniggering from young people) the last thing I want to be is someone who never really engaged with life. You only have to look in the Bible to see the roller-coaster life that people lived. It surely is never too late. Sarah was 90 when she had Isaac. And then he was nothing but a worry to her what with his dad trying to kill him and everything. That would be the same dad who tried to pass her off as his sister (therefore making her available to all comers) because he was too chicken to stand up for her. It wasn't all fun but it was certainly life!
I know living life means different things to different people. A stay at home home-schooling mum (check out this brilliant blog) who feels called to do it is as valued with God as Wilberforce. It's about finding who you are meant to be in this life and making the most of it. This takes time, effort and pushing through when it all goes horribly wrong. And it means digging deep and making difficult decisions. It also sometimes means having a pretty exciting time - now. Then whatever God has got to follow, surely can only be a bonus.

Rant on the way - People of a nervous disposition look away.
The Olympic Torch came over from Cornwall last night. Now I am not from round here but there are a lot of people I like here and I think a lot of the place. I despaired therefore when I head that the original idea was to bring the torch over the Tamar Bridge IN A VAN! IN CASE IT HELD UP THE TRAFFIC!!! Plymouth - the eyes of the world are upon you! The Tamar Bridge is stunning. Why not go the whole hog and bring it over in an Ivor Dewdney pasty van driven by Larry Spear? (Nothing wrong with Larry Spear - been very generous to the charity I work for, but you know what I mean) Sometimes you have to step up for an occasion. Sanity prevailed in the end I believe and someone got to run across. *sighs deeply and shakes head*

Hidden Spectaculars

Source: The White House

Another week, another grey hair. The experiment to stop dying my hair and go naturally the colour God intends me to be is producing both pros and cons.

Pro - My hair is lightening naturally around my face and it doesn't seem so harsh against my speedily aging skin.
Pro - I hate dying my hair soooo much. Always but ALWAYS manage to get some on the bathroom wall.
Pro - Family say they all like it.
Pro - Saving money

Con - Had no idea it would happen this fast! All these years holding back a tsunami of grey. Who knew?

Old age makes you reflect a bit on  the changes you've seen. HOH and I were watching the news this week about the recovery of the underwear from the would-be plot to bring down a plane. In my day, when you said someone had had an explosion in their underpants it just meant that nappy training wasn't as far along as you had hoped it was. Unfortunately now things are different.
The news says that terrorists are always looking for a "Spectacular" A 9/11. Something to get everyone's attention. A big immediate impact that will change the world.
I wonder if we are all like that. Not that I want to blow up a plane or anything but looking for the next spectacular. Where's my Burning Bush God? If I had a Burning Bush in front of me accompanied by a loud booming voice telling me to take my shoes off, I am certain the following would be true.

1. The shoes would be off pretty sharpish.
2. I would be a lot more certain about God's direction and more confident about actually acting on it.

However, I find that life is rarely that certain and our Hydrangeas remain intact and un-singed. Because most of us do not live that life. And, although, it's not as exciting to say so, most of us know what we should be doing every day and what God says about the way we conduct our lives. God isn't going to turn up every twenty minutes to reiterate everything he has already said as if he was a contestant on Mastermind whose specialist subject was "The Flaming Obvious"! And if the daily decisions we make about the way we live our lives don't seem that spectacular at first glance, who is to say where they will lead?

Do you think that on December 1st 1955 when Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat for a white person, she thought for one moment that one day the President of the United States would be sitting in that seat reflecting on what followed? I suspect not. She said that she was just "Tired of giving in." 

Her decision, which was a reflection of the life she lived - she was active in the Civil Rights Movement - was part of a chain reaction which would change a society. I suspect it didn't feel anything like that at the time.

Not all actions are "spectaculars". Not everything has immediate effect. Sometimes, spending so much time longing for flashing lights and girls twirling batons, can mean forgetting to do what we are meant to be doing now and who knows what kind of a spectacular that could be causing somewhere down the road?

But he's already made it quite plain how to live, what to do, what God is looking for in men and women.
It's quite simple. Do what is fair and just to your neighbour, be compassionate and loyal in your love, 
And don't take yourself too seriously - take God seriously
Micah 6:8 The Message

Stickability

This week Fruit of Womb Two sent me a text from school. This is usually a sign of a problem. Sometimes it's

"Forgot to tell you, I am doing drama tonight - do not cook tea." *Mother sighs, thinking of huge Shepherd's Pie defrosting in kitchen*

or

"I have been sick. A lot of it seemed to land on school nurse. She is not happy. Please come and get me. NOW"  


This time though it was much more celebratory. As she finished her GCSE year to begin study leave, her text read,
"That is it! I never have to do PE again :)" 

Unfortunately, my daughter has inherited my "non-sporty" gene.
It reminded me of a story I had shared before so, if you have read it, my apologies. You don't have to read this though - not as if you are paying for it or anything. Anyway, as I said, I was completely rubbish at PE, but a group of my friends were not. They were really good at hockey. Good enough to form the core of the school team and, for reasons best known to themselves, they wanted me with them. There's no accounting for taste. I was placed in defence, and dutifully turned up every week for my ritual humiliation of so called training. This involved being shouted at loudly by a PE teacher who didn't even bother to learn my name and getting whacked so often on the legs by the ball, that I should have taken out shares in witch hazel.
In truth though, actually playing matches was easy. My friends were really good and the ball spent most of the match at the other end of the pitch while they battered seven bells out of the opposition. Our goalkeeper and my good self would while away the match playing air guitar with our sticks and singing Bay City Rollers songs.
The trouble started when, through no fault of my own, we were promoted. We had now, quite literally, gone up a division. Thus began a torrid time. As a defensive player, I suddenly found myself having to defend, which was not part of our original agreement. More people ran past me than the starting gun at the London Marathon.  Still, I kept coming to training, kept trying, kept dabbing the sore spots.
The whole thing came to a head when we were visited by the division leaders. As they walked on to the pitch, dragging their knuckles seductively along the floor,  I was tempted to demand a mass sex test. These weren't school girls. They were freaks of nature and cocky with it. Sure enough, before I had time to feign injury and leave the pitch, one of them was hurtling towards me, legs pumping like pistons. There was nothing for it, I just had to have a go, so I swung the stick back and trying to remember something, anything, from training, I had a wild stab at taking the ball from her. Amazingly, I hit it, slap in the middle and it went flying up-field. She was, quite rightly, astonished and, with no attempt to spare my feelings, demanded "How did YOU do that?"
To my surprise, the answer came from our PE teacher. She leaned into the pitch and growled " By keeping going. She never gives up. That always ensures you will eventually be in the right place at the right time." Then she ran away up the touchline, doing her usual uncanny impression of the Incredible Hulk and calling down curses on the referee.
I wish I could say that this was the beginning of a beautiful relationship with playing sport but I quit the team soon after, still dining out on what was (direct quote from coach here) "One of the finest defensive hits I have seen" Oh yes.
Keeping going is an underrated skill. Pushing on through, despite how tough it is sometimes. Believing that if you keep doing the right thing. God will notice and come though for you. Yet I think he will and I am unusually certain about this for once. How can I be so sure? Because It's not me that says so.

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.
Galatians 6:9

Learning to scratch

She was sixteen this week. Sixteen! When did that happen? She is stunning, brainy, funny and kind. How did that happen? Takes after Head of House probably. Sometimes, when HOH and I struggle with what we may have achieved in our lives, we look at the people God helped us to make and think - that's not a bad thing we did there is it?
I have struggled a bit to write this week. Nothing dramatic. Just struggled. On a cursory viewing, the week has been fine. She turned sixteen, without any major mishaps. In my own personal opinion, I wasn't too keen on the birthday cake I produced. The girl requested chocolate brownies rather than your basic cake and I was fine with that - done it plenty of times before.The thing was I left it as late as possible to do the cake so that it would still be warm. Unfortunately, this meant that the gooey bit hadn't cooled enough when I came to cut them. So, although they did taste pretty scrummy, the final result did ever so slightly remind me of a candle and glitter bedecked cow pat. Everyone pretended not to notice which was nice.
So it's been a good week really with lots of good things happening and yet I have felt a bit blah, really. Sometimes this can just be due to life. Being tired, pinging your back out cleaning the stairs, your belly having an unfortunate reaction to mackerel on toast. Sometimes though, blahhness has to be chased down. Whatever it is that's making you itch has to be found and scratched. If you can do this much peace will come your way - indeedy.
So the first thing to do is to turn off the TV/Computer/Radio or any other distractions. We are supposed to be in a living relationship with God. Make some space to help his look at this with you.
Then, find some time, to actually shut up and have some silence. Ask God to show you what it is that is affecting you. Sometimes when you do this, God will point you towards the mackerel reaction, two paracetamol and an afternoon watching Sherlock re-runs. He is very aware that sometimes we overdo it and need to slow down. Exhibit A - Elijah whingeing was dealt with by rest and food and water supplied by God's own Raven Delivery Service. If I were God (How grateful we all are that this will never be true) I would have probably dealt with it with a thunderbolt and a big echoy voice shouting "I have just given you a spectacular victory. BUCK UP or I will get someone else!" Still, that's me and I'm not proud of it.
Sometimes, there are things that need to be dealt with. Say sorry. Put something right. Although, there are times when things cannot be put right and unpleasantness will happen.
We need to be developing a regular habit of letting God show us what is making us itch and then showing us how to scratch it. He doesn't always change the circumstances. He always provides the support to survive it.
And when I did this, I found that there were three or four things lurking in the back of my mind that had been worrying me to different degrees over the last few weeks. I can't share them with you because some involve people who may read this and one is quite frankly so stupid, it is embarrassing. But when I identify them - I can pray about them. Then things begin to change. When I identify my woes, I can see what I can do to deal with them or pass them to a saviour who can not only deal with them quite capably thank-you but also provides peace in the midst of his dealings.
Witness the old hymn

O what peace we often forfeit.

O what needless pain we bear

All because we do not carry

Everything to God in prayer

Sometimes it pays to spend some time with your spiritual magnifying glass, examine until you find out what ails you and pray in a specific way. Then, when you look back at what God did you can say thank you - equally specifically. How good does it feel when, having found an itch, you finally get to scratch it? I rest my case m'lud.

An Attentive God

You may or may not know (or care) that I walk to work most mornings. I try, where possible to make this into a spiritual time. Actually I walk Fruit of Womb Two to the bus stop with the dogs first but  the combination of school chat, mad Jacks, stinky poo bags and the old man I talk to in the park make any kind of spiritual activity there impossible.
So later, when I walk to work, the idea is that I use the time alone to connect with God. That's the idea. Sometimes I listen to books etc.on the old MP3 thingy. Sometimes I try to pray. If I could have written the word "try" in the previous sentence in big shiny pink glittery letters, I would have done. Because "try" is indeed the operative word. I thought I might share this prayer time with you. The normal font is how my thoughts and prayers are supposed to go. The italics are where they often really go. All names have been changed or left out or both.

Leaving House
Lord, as another day starts, I just want to commit it to you and all that is about to happen in this day that you have given us.
Did I actually lock the door? Ooh look - number 5 are having their windows done.
Lord, first of all I want to thank you for all that you have done for me. That I am still here and for the life that you have given me with all its challenges and joys.
Bit heavier on the challenges than the joys if I am totally honest at the moment. 
For my family as we go our separate ways today. For HOH at work and FOW 2 at school and for FOW1 as he..
Rats. Don't think I told FOW1 to put the washing out and he'll never think to do it. Students. Pah!


Walking down Road to Park
Father, I just want to commit.......... to you. Help her as she makes decisions about her future with all the things she has to consider. Give her wisdom and peace and a balance in her life.
Speaking of balance, watch it here. Last time you weren't paying attention here, you caught your foot and went flying. There was blood and tears and scar tissue. Wonder if people see me every morning and think. "There's that woman that fell over."
Lord and for..................Haven't seen him in ages. Keep watch over him.
Wonder what "Shellac" is? Says it there in hairdressers.


Entering Park
Father and for family far away.  Aunty....... and ........ as they go on their cruise.
Lucky so and sos
And for our church and the work that is going on all the time in the local community. Bless those who work so hard and show me ways to support them.
Squirrel! 


Crossing road after leaving park
Father help me to commit all aspects of my life to you and not to try and carry them myself. Help me to be kind and thoughtful.
"Same to you stupid driver. I was too looking!"


Approaching work
So Lord today, help me to appreciate this world that you have put me in. Lord it is too wide and deep for me to comprehend but let me be aware of your hand in all things and give me wisdom to deal with all things today.
"Oh no. Think the rough sleepers have pooed in the car park again."


As you have probably guessed, I have not shared this with you so that you can be impressed by the profound depth of my prayer life. To be fair to me (and I am always fair to me) this is not all that my prayer life consists of,  but I share it to reiterate that God, for reasons that totally escape me, in interested in all aspects of our lives. Even though he is more than aware of how many times I fail. He is listening. He is paying attention. He is able to help me do this better.But for now he is working with the crumbs that I sometimes give him. It really is amazing don't you think?


It's well known that God isn't at the beck and call of sinners but listens carefully to anyone who lives in reverence and does his will.
John 9 The Message