The Reality of Brokenness

To London on Monday to deliver FOW 2 to Summer School. (Three and a half hours on a train, then, 10 seconds after we get off, she catches sight of the team from UCL. "Bye!" she shouts and runs off towards them. So much for me guiding her safely through London) So I was left, slightly redundant with an afternoon in London to fill.
The British Museum called me and therein a small but beautifully formed exhibition (Room 69a in case you are interested) on coinage in the Bible. I love this sort of thing - real denari(s) ?? and shekels and things. Genuinely fascinating. In the middle of all this, I came across a small case containing 30 pieces of silver. That was all. 30 real pieces of silver. No one was suggesting that they were the actual ones that were used as Judas' pay-off but they were from the same time.
I found it surprisingly moving. Just the reality of these tiny silver coins in front of me. Judas wasn't always a traitor. He lost faith in Jesus - partly because he never really knew who he was. Yet the act of betrayal must have been heartbreaking for both I think. Jesus had lived with the disciples for three years and he loved them. Sometimes people used to say that Judas was put into the disciples for one purpose - to betray Jesus - and it was therefore as if anything he felt was of no value and that Jesus wasn't too fussed about him because Judas was part of a bigger picture. This goes against everything I have ever learnt or felt about Jesus. I don't think Judas was picked to betray. Jesus would never single anyone out as that hopeless. I think that he was aware that if he picked 12 people to share in his life that eventually someone would lose it. It could have been anyone of them. It could have been all of them. For the record, if I had been in the disciples, I think that there is a pretty good chance that it could have been me. Judas never recovered. 
By the Last Supper Jesus knew that Judas was lost. He knew that his frustration and impatience and self obsession had caused him to hand himself over to wickedness. 

The one who hands me over is someone I eat with daily, one who passes me food at the table. In one sense the Son of Man is entering into a way of treachery well-marked by the Scriptures—no surprises here. In another sense that man who turns him in, turns traitor to the Son of Man—better never to have been born than do this!”

Then Judas, already turned traitor, said, “It isn’t me, is it, Rabbi?”

Jesus said, “Don’t play games with me, Judas."

Matthew 26

Jesus was well aware that he was following the path laid out in Scripture but I don't think it hurt any less. People sometimes say that everything happens for a reason which is probably true but that seems a bit bloodless sometimes for me. Looking at these coins brought home the reality of a betrayal or a hurt of a friend. On both sides. I forget sometimes that Jesus really experienced these things. Loss and loneliness and disappointment. The Son of God isn't just an interested onlooker but someone who recognises the pain of a broken relationship as something that he has experienced in his own life. It would serve me well to remember this I think, next time I whinge to God that he doesn't know what I am going through. 

Stepping Out....

... with my baby
Can't go wrong 'cause I'm in right
It's for sure, not for maybe
That I'm all dressed up tonight

Well, actually no, not that kind of stepping out. Sorry to get you all worked up. It's this kind of stepping out

Jesus said, “Come off by yourselves; let’s take a break and get a little rest.” For there was constant coming and going. They didn’t even have time to eat. Matthew 6 v 31

So I did - (step out that is)  because there was (constant coming and going). The idea was that I would spend a goodly proportion of my jolly hols writing and blogging but I er..didn't. I stepped out of all day to day responsibilities and that included this - what can I say? 

If you missed me (Who? You are thinking) Why thank you. If not - well who can blame you? I have returned now. Not exactly rested but pooped from nice things.

• We had family down for a few days which was really good.
• We met a friend in Totnes. Still haven't had a decent cup of coffee there. They could do with a big chain moving in if you ask me.
• We went to Warwick to look at the university and accidentally called in at Ikea on the way back.
• We went to Flavourfest which is my favourite Plymouth event because there are lots
  of opportunities to eat.
  
• Lots of meals out and long breakfasts on the Hoe. 
• Lots of dog walking.
• Cinema and home movies catching up
• Bit of ironing (Felt I should for appearances sake.)
• Read two books.
• Helped get my mum settled in Plymouth.

So, that's my catch up. Wot I did on my 'olidays. Anyway, off to devour a Harry Potter film and a caramel wafer. You can have this from me to you. Enjoy.

The Last Thing

Mark 11:22-25

Jesus was matter-of-fact: “Embrace this God-life. Really embrace it, and nothing will be too much for you. This mountain, for instance: Just say, ‘Go jump in the lake’—no shuffling or shilly-shallying—and it’s as good as done. That’s why I urge you to pray for absolutely everything, ranging from small to large. Include everything as you embrace this God-life, and you’ll get God’s everything. 

I have a lot going on at the moment. I am in the middle of a few things. Crisis would be too strong a word and some of the things that are happening, we are on the better side of. We will get there. As usual, after a trying time I come back to the same question. Why is praying about it the last thing that I do?

Do I think it seems a bit presumptuous? Well sometimes.

Do I forget? Often.

Do I automatically just jump to sort it myself mode? Yep.

I have an ongoing fantasy about my life (no not the one where I am manager of Manchester United's most successful ever team) In it I am a woman of prayer with a notebook full of prayers - some answered, some ongoing. Some for friends, some for entire continents. The book would be full of different coloured pens and crossing outs and added bits and stuff where God had told me stuff. And I want to be a   pray-er. I do pray. Of course I do but I want it to be my default mode rather than my - "Oh yes I could always try praying" mode. And the thing is that this fantasy is completely attainable. I don't expect a better prayer life will get rid of all my problems. I just expect it to give me a better life because I do the best thing to deal with them.

It's down to me to sort. Puzzling though isn't it? Why I would not run with something so beneficial and so life enhancing? Am thinking it may be time to look at how this is done. All suggestions gratefully received.

Food Issues

Awesome is an over used word but this is the quite frankly awesome Jack Monroe and her son. 
She has experienced food poverty and written very movingly about it on her blog - example below.

"Poverty is the sinking feeling when your small boy finishes his one Weetabix and says ‘more mummy, bread and jam please mummy’ as you’re wondering whether to take the TV or the guitar to the pawn shop first, and how to tell him that there is no bread or jam."

She is now a food poverty campaigner and comes up with great ideas about cooking etc but also about GIVING.
I am expecting that I am teaching masses of grandmothers to suck eggs here but this is where the Christians rise up like the mighty army they are and make it happen. We need to be supporting Trussel Trust or whatever the local foodbank is up to. Loving watching what my chum Pat Cass and Urban Outreach are doing up north as well as Lord's Larder etc. where I am. But the very least - the VERY LEAST, LEAST, LEAST, LEAST any of us should be doing is wapping a bit extra in our supermarket trolleys and bunging it in the cages as we go out. And Bob - i'll est votre oncle as they say in France. 

If you need any more nudging - try Matthew

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Enter, you who are blessed by my Father! Take what’s coming to you in this kingdom. It’s been ready for you since the world’s foundation. And here’s why:

I was hungry and you fed me,
I was thirsty and you gave me a drink,
I was homeless and you gave me a room,
I was shivering and you gave me clothes,
I was sick and you stopped to visit,
I was in prison and you came to me.’

Thems the hard cold facts about our faith. It's who we are.

Fractured Thoughts in a Fractured Week

For the most part, I am basically content with my lot as a working family bod. I get through, you know? However, these last few weeks, I have found myself longing for one of those lives where I get to sit down and think and write and muse and the like. I just haven't had time to do it and I miss it. You will find that these thinkings that I jot down will reflect that at the moment. Sorry.

Anyway, this week. HOH had a birthday and was very touched by the amount of wishings of well that he received when I posted the photo above on Facebook. He was amazed how many of the people there remembered him. (TBH, he didn't remember all of THEM, but we are putting that down to age and being busy and the like) FOW2 did the cake which was disgustingly chocolaty and wolfed down by all concerned.

For he sake of sanity, we sallied forth to the cinema as a family. HOH and FOW2 went to see Branagh's Macbeth live from Manchester. They loved it. FOW2 wasn't too sure about the fight scenes. Apparently, people who were quite obviously winning their bit of the fight would keep insisting on pirouetting round in a full circle, thus leaving themselves open to being run through in the backwards area, mid twirl. I explained to her about dramatic effect and all that but she has seen too many episodes of gritty American drama to be impressed by that. 
FOW1 refused Macbeth so we went to see The World's End. I went into this with a totally heroic "Things I Do for my Kids" kind of vibe. However, it was really funny. Very British. Not quite as good as Hot Fuzz but certainly in the ball-park. (Don't go if you have a thing about bad language. It puts the G in gritty in that department)

I read this, this week. Family Secrets - Living with Shame from the Victorians to the Present Day. It is a big , fat book stuffed to the drawstrings with facts - most of which are quite depressing. I learnt more than my small brain can take. The most edifying bit was finding out that the condition Downs Syndrome was named after Doctor Langdon Down, who, in 1866 opened a huge home for children with mental disorders - not to hide them away but to give them the best chance of education and a better life. It was only in the 1920s that the idea of hiding the children away took hold. Dr Down and his wife were part of the Evangelical Movement which sought to translate their faith into actions and also two more names on the long list of Christians who make me feel that I am playing at it.

I have just realised that the font has completely changed but I don't have time to look at it. Am off to make chicken butties before evening service. We are doing Joseph and it's really good. You think you know everything about Joseph just because you have heard it so many times and can sing all the colours in the coat in the right order, but there is so much in the account that is relevant to normal people. Am loving it.
That's it for now. Carry On!