Always a Pioneer

I haven't posted on here for years. I mean, literally, years. And so much has changed over those years; I mean, obviously, right? But when I talk about change, I don't mean the kind of change that is par for the course with ageing: the creep of middle aged spread, grey hair and increased mortgage payments (although I can't deny the reality of any of those things). I'm talking about significant, life-altering changes. I went from being a crunchy home-educating mum to a working mum of schoolchildren. I went from being an evangelical Christian to a liberal, LGBTQ-affirming Christian. I went from being someone who wore long dresses and skirts for modesty to someone with a passion for dungarees, shaved heads, piercings and tattoos. I went from being someone whose idea of Christian thinking was a Joyce Meyer self-help book to someone with a foundation degree in theology. I went from being someone who did the church flowers to someone who led services in a cassock. I went from being someone who had been a Baptist all their adult life to someone who was training for Anglican ministry. 

 Big changes were the hallmark of my life over the past five years. And they were good changes. I was progressing, developing, finally fulfilling my potential. And then, just as quickly as things began to change, things began to fall apart.

How and why they fell apart is complicated and messy and doesn't include any of my finest moments in life, all of which are better left in the annals of time. I will say, however, that I'm waiting for a diagnosis of PMDD (premenstrual dysphoric disorder) and, after an 18 month period of Covid-imposed inability to access medical treatment, I'm also finally receiving treatment for Perimenopause. The two conditions together have wreaked havoc on my mental health. Mostly, now, with a combination of HRT, antidepressant medication and hormonal contraception, I inhabit a place of relative sanity. However, there are days, and nights, during the luteal phase of my menstrual cycle where the dark abyss of hormone-induced fear, paranoia and self-loathing threaten to swallow me up.

So here I am, no longer a pioneer of Christian motherhood or first generation ministry. I'm more of a pioneer of survival. A pioneer of brutal self-reflection and personal growth. A pioneer of trying to get my shit together and rebuild some kind of life from the rubble of failure. A pioneer of finding faith and spirituality when church has become a toxic and triggering place. 

I don't know where I'm going, but they say that the company on the journey is more important than the destination, so please, come along with me. Join me in my journeying.

Jo

Ray of Hope

Spring has felt like such a long time coming.  This winter has been a hard one for me emotionally.  It is only recently that our car was fixed so, for the most part, we have been immobile, squirreled away in our snug nest, awaiting the sun.  Hibernation sounds like a cosy idyll to begin with but when the incandescent glow of Christmas has faded, and there is not even the excitement of snow to break the monotonous bleakness, it begins to feel more like incarceration.  So we held on.  Held on to the rituals that guide us through the year: Epiphany, Candlemas, Valentines.... Held on to the hope of light and warmth and community.  Held on to Him who is present within every difficult, stir-crazy, ill-tempered moment and yet promises that this is not all, promises to make streams in the desert and a path through the wilderness.  And just when the dark and cold seemed most oppressive, just when I needed it most, ...the sun shone.  I am sure that there will be many more inclement days around the corner but for today I am thankful for a chance to wake up from my winter sleep, stretch out my arms and welcome the sun.  Similarly, even though I know that my long fought battle with depression is likely not over, I grasp the good days and thank God for his mercy.  

Ticking boxes

My husband is a list maker of old.  I am always finding bits of old cereal box with lists written on the back; lists of outstanding DIY; shopping lists; to do lists for his job.  He is a list maniac and always has been since I've known him.  For me though, lists are a new-ish entity.  I don't ever remember lists being made at home, and so I grew up without that most necessary of inventions.  However, thanks to the wonders of technology I have now adopted the list as my own; there are so many fabulous organisational sites out there with pretty printables that are just begging to be adorned with a list, how could I not become a list maker?

I think you'll agree that the best thing about lists is ticking them off.  It's a tangible sign of achievement and progression.  It makes you feel great to see how far you've come.  And when the last item on your list is checked,... what a feeling?!  Lists are the stuff of addiction, I'm sure, because nothing gives as great a rush as the knowledge that you have done what you set out to do.  Staring at a completed list is like eating Green & Blacks 70% cocoa dark chocolate; it just makes me want more.  More achievement, more self worth, more self justification for my existence.  And that's just the chores list.

So if the chores list gets me this excited, what happens when I turn faith into a checklist?  It's absolutely awesome; the progress I can make is astounding.

















(And just in case you think I am speaking only of conservatives, the charismatic church could equally have a list which includes speaking in tongues and watching the 'right' programmes on God TV.  Liberals could create their list with the right theology books and missional experiences.  None of these things are bad in     themselves; it is when we start to put faith in these things for our righteousness and salvation that there becomes a problem.)

Actually, in reality, this isn't progress at all.  It's merely ticking boxes.  And it leads to a false sense of our own righteousness without any reference to the saving grace of Christ.  We cannot become righteous through our own works.

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God--
Ephesians 2:8 NIV

I have fallen into this trap very recently.  I have succumbed to checklist Christianity.  I wanted so much to make progress from the broken and inadequate vessel that I believed myself to be, so I decided to pull myself up by my bootstraps and become the kind of Christian I aspired to be.  I bought long denim skirts because that was what those ladies who I longed to be like, longed to fit in with, wore.  I read the 'right' kind of books, I changed my theology to become more Biblically correct.  I knew I was saved by God but I longed to be more righteous and fruitful, and instead of resting in the vine for that fruit I tried to cultivate it for myself. I am reminded of this scripture:

My people have committed two evils: they have forsaken Me, the Fountain of living waters, and they have hewn for themselves cisterns, broken cisterns which cannot hold water. Jeremiah 2:13

If we forsake God in favour of an easy to achieve checklist we are wronging both Him and ourselves.  We rob ourselves of the intimate personal relationship that we might have with the Father if we were attached to the vine, and we rob God by refusing to put our faith in the saving work of His Son on the cross.  We are told in Philippians 2:12 to work out our salvation with fear and trembling and I believe fully in this exhortation.  We should not be sloppy about our faith; it should be the most important part of our lives and radiate from everything that we do.  We should, however, remember that we are all individuals and the working out may look different for each of us.  The King James Bible refers to working out our 'own' salvation.  Christianity is truly about a personal relationship with a personal saviour.  So no more check boxes,... not for me anyway.  Be who you are; uniquely and wonderfully you.  No-one else can have the relationship with God that you have because no-one else is like you: don't rob Him of the joy of your friendship by trying to emulate somebody else's version of what a Christian is like.  Be a true friend by revealing your true self to Him and allowing his love to change and mould you into your best self.

Who am I that You are mindful of me 
That You hear me when I call 
Is it true that You are thinking of me 
How You love me it's amazing 

(Chorus) 
I am a friend of God 
I am a friend of God 
I am a friend of God 
He calls me friend 

God Almighty, Lord of Glory 
You have called me friend 

(Repeat Chorus) 

He calls me friend 
He calls me friend...

Israel Houghton

Storm Clouds Gathering or Getting Rid of Toxic Fear

I wonder if it's because I'm British.... The tendency to watch the horizon for signs of impending bad weather is something akin to my tendency to look towards the future with a sense of foreboding.  Both might be seen as British characteristics.  Everyone knows we're obsessed with the weather,.. and you'd have to admit we're not the most optimistic of races.  Don't get me wrong, I love being British; we are stalwart and resilient, having fought off our (then) enemies in two world wars.  Ask Granny if there's cake for tea, though, and even when it's practically bursting out of the Silver Jubilee biscuit tin on the top shelf in the pantry cupboard, she'll look dour and reply: ooh, I don't know about that then.  Maybe there's a connection between our lack of optimism and our lack of sunshine; it wouldn't surprise me.

Recently I've been worrying a lot.  Little things have escalated in my mind to become big things which have the potential to destroy all the brightness in my life.  There were some clouds.  Tiny ones actually.  To me they looked brooding and dangerous.  I started to panic, to make plans in my mind about how I would deal with such an intense storm in my life; I started to lose control.  In the end they turned out to be nothing more than a few wispy cirrus, floating overhead with not even a speck of rain to dampen my day.  I breathed a sigh of relief, thanked God and began to think....

Fear is toxic.  If you've seen Star Wars Episode 3: Revenge of the Sith you'll be familiar with Annakin Skywalker's seduction by the dark side.  If you're not familiar with the film you only need to know one thing about Annakin's demise as a Jedi Knight: it begins with fear.  He fears that he will lose his beloved wife, Padme, in childbirth.  This fear is so strong that it begins to control him and, furthermore, puts him at the mercy of those who would manipulate him for their own ends.  We all know what happens next; Padme dies anyway and Annakin loses himself to the dark side.  It's very much like the story of Othello by William Shakespeare.  Othello listens to the whispers of an enemy and he is rendered murderous with jealousy; death and destruction is his final end. 

Satan has a plan for our life.  It is the complete opposite of God's plan.  God has a plan to prosper us and not to harm us (Jeremiah 29:11) whereas Satan is a thief who comes in the night to steal, kill and destroy (John 10:10).  And how does he instigate this vile plan?  In 1 Peter 5:8 we are warned: 

Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like 

a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. NIV

The devil has no real power over us if we belong to Jesus BUT he will prowl about us and roar like a lion.  And why does a lion roar?  To frighten his prey, who will either become immovable with that fear, or frenzied and confused.  Either way, they make a much easier object of prey.  Satan wants to make you fear; he wants to immobilise you or send you into a frenzied tailspin.  He has a plan for your destruction.  And his whispers,... those worries that haunt you in the middle of the night when rationality is sleeping; they are lies to entrap you.  

So what is the answer?  The answer is always faith and trust in our Lord, Jesus Christ.  It sounds trite.  Please don't switch off now; it isn't trite.  It isn't an easy answer or a fob off.  It's the truth.  The truth is that sometimes those dark and brooding storm clouds will pass over and sometimes they will send torrents hurtling down upon you when you least expect it.  Life is like that; but life is not about what happens to us,... it's about how we respond.  We can respond with fear, allowing Satan to have the upper hand, or we can respond with faith in God's promise that he will NEVER leave us or forsake us (Deuteronomy 31:8 amongst others).  Scripture tells us not to fear over one hundred times and we need not fear because God is true to his promises and, even when it seems like life is falling apart, HIS plan for our good and HIS glory is being worked out.

When you see the storm clouds gathering what should you do?  Respond with faith; trust God and walk forward knowing that, whatever happens, He is with you.  It's not an easy thing to do; it will require stalwart resilience but it IS possible, for ALL things are possible in Him (Mark 9:23).

Love and prayers

Jo x

Enough

I keep the Jesus Storybook Bible on my pile of devotionals by my favourite armchair.  That way, if a small person comes along and wants to join in, I always have something to read them.  It's a brilliant book.  It looks at the whole Bible through the lens of the promise and fulfilment of the Messiah in the person of Jesus Christ.  That sounds a bit complicated and theological but actually, in the very simplest terms, it outlines God's plan for the salvation of humanity from day one.

Anyway, the other day I was reading Daily Light in my favourite armchair when Elijah came and took up residence on my lap.  I dutifully put down my devotional and picked up the Jesus Storybook Bible.  I flipped it open to a random page, which just happened to be the story of the loaves and the fishes.  It's a familiar story,... so familiar, in fact, that sometimes it's easy to gloss over it and fail to see the amazing truths it contains.  I mean, yes, it's one of the miracles of Jesus which help to validate his claims to be divine,  but it's also more than that.  It's about a young boy who chose to give what he had when, in all honesty, what he had was a mere drop in the ocean.  If it was me I'd have been tempted to ask what good my little bit could do and keep it to myself.  Isn't that what we do, oftentimes, when faced with situations of great need or injustice??  We think, well my contribution would be so small that it would be completely ineffective,... and so we make no contribution at all.

It reminds me of the story of a little boy walking along a shoreline where thousands of starfish had been beached.  As he walked he picked up single starfish and threw them back into the water.  He was challenged by a passing adult who asked him what he hoped to achieve in the face of such an enormous environmental disaster; he couldn't possibly make a difference.  The boy, calmly, picked up a starfish, threw it back in and said,... well I made a difference to that one.

The boy with the loaves and fishes surrendered himself to be used,... but more than that.  He had faith that in doing so he could make a difference.  God is the God of increase.  He can take our measly offerings and make them into something astounding and abundant for his purpose and glory.  It doesn't matter how much we have; if we give it with a faith filled heart, he will multiply it and use if for his kingdom.  

As a mother who has suffered from depression and constantly questioned her ability to raise Godly children, this story gives me great hope. If I surrender myself to this task he has given me;  if I mother to the best of my God -given ability; if I have faith to believe that my offering is acceptable to God....  It sounds like a spiritual gymnastics class but in reality I think it comes down to one thing: trust.  We entrust ourselves to God and we believe that he has a good plan for us.  It's not about us; it's about him.  And so I breathe a huge sigh of relief and leave you with the wonderful closing words of the tale of the loaves and fishes from The Jesus Storybook Bible.

But it was the most natural thing in all the world.  It's what God had been doing from the beginning, of course.  Taking the nothing and making it everything.  Taking the emptiness and filling it up.  Taking the darkness and making it light.

2 Corinthians 4:6-7 (New Living Translation)
⁶ For God, who said, “Let there be light in the darkness,” has made this light shine in our hearts so we could know the glory of God that is seen in the face of Jesus Christ.
⁷ We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.

Coming Out of the Darkness

The last year has been hard.  Really hard.  After my month in hospital when Josiah was born it took a while to get my health back to full strength. However, the trauma of being institutionalised (albeit with excellent care) and, worse still, being separated from Phil and the children, was not quite so easy to put behind me.  It's hard to explain post natal depression to anyone.  You have a lovely baby, a lovely home, lovely family,... so much to be grateful for.   And yet, despite all this potential for great happiness there is, in the depths of your soul, a pervasive blackness which envelops every spark of joy that ought to be yours for the taking.  And that's really all there is to it.  No reason, no rhyme,... just hopelessness and despair.  So there I was.   Hiding my soul from the health visitor and striving to hold everything together for the sake of my family and this precious baby I had birthed.  And one year later here I am.  I don't know how I made it; how, when other people succumb so tragically to the siren of suicide, I managed to ignore her tantalising taunts and walk forward into the light.  I can only thank God and my husband for their grace and favour; for not abandoning me in my time of need.  So do I have any advice for others going through a similar situation?  Take one day at a time and if need be one moment at a time, accept help, take time for yourself, know your limits, be kind to yourself, and a hundred other things that escape me right now.  But know this: there is light and hope on the other side.  If it takes anti-depressants and a hospital stay to get there, so be it.  Whatever it takes, as Jim Morrison said,... break on through to the other side.

May God's light shine upon you
Jo x

Blessings in Brokeness

Brokeness is not something we normally celebrate. In fact, in today's consumer driven society we cast away the broken without a thought, replacing it with a newer, pristine version. But the Bible is clear that God will not despise 'a broken and contrite heart' (Psalm 51:17 NIV). In fact, when we look throughout the Bible it is apparent that brokeness is indeed the perfect starting point for blessing. Isaiah is particularly rich in images of the Father taking that which is barren and reinvigorating it:
'I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.' Isaiah 43:19 NIV
'...To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning...' Isaiah 61:3 NLT

In a way we are all broken; we all come into the world with the imprint of sin upon us and, as such, are equally in need of His restorative touch. For some, however, brokeness becomes who we are. We have broken hearts, minds or bodies, and that brokeness seems to become our identity. Sadly, the world is not a friendly place for the broken. It is a place where euthanasia is becoming an increasingly acceptable way to deal with the brokeness of chronic illness. It is a place where babies are denied the right to life because they have 'broken' chromosomes. It is a place where the brokeness of mental illness is stigmatised and feared. And one can only ask, where is God in the midst of all this brokeness? What is he doing about it? I am not a theologian. I can't give you answers filled with scriptural wisdom. I can only reflect on what I observe in my own life and the lives of those whose stories have touched my own.

The boys have a young friend with microcephaly. His brain does not work in quite the same way as mine or yours. He may never grow beyond the capacities of a small child. Society considers him broken. And yet, Jesus was quite clear that we must 'change and become like little children' in order to enter the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 18:3). So one might ask who it is that has the disadvantage in life? I suppose it depends how you perceive success. If life is measured in terms of financial reward and physical independence, then it is surely we who have the advantage. BUT, I truly believe in the opening words of the Westminster catechism that man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy him forever. And this young man, with his childish joy and faith, emmanates God's glory in a way that most adults never could. So surely, it is we who are the broken ones, our innocence smashed by rationalism and worldly desires.

In my life I have had two friends with quite severe mental health problems. Their lives have been acutely affected by mental illness. They have operated under constraints which the average Joe Public has no knowledge of. Such a shame. What a waste. Is that how God would have us respond? Truly, I have never known such brave and determined folk as these. Campaigning against injustices, spreading the gospel despite many setbacks and much criticism. Overcoming gossip and rejection. Trusting in God against all the odds.

One of these friends died suddenly several years ago. At the time I felt very angry with God that he had never healed this young man. He had not married, not been able to find employment, had lived alone in a council flat. Why would God not have healed him so that he was able to enjoy the things that we take for granted? After all, he came to give 'life in all its fullness' didn't he?! (John 10:10) I have to admit that I have not quite reconciled this question in my own heart; it will certainly be one of the things I ask God when I finally stand face to face with him. What I can say, however, is that my friend was never mediocre, never nominal, never overcome by worldliness. He was on fire for God. He had to be. God was his medicine, his sanity, his lifeline. So was he broken or was he blessed? I will share with you the scripture that was read at his funeral, and let you decide.

'We have this treasure from God. But we are only like clay jars that hold the treasure. This shows that this great power is from God, not from us. We have troubles all around us, but we are not defeated. We do not know what to do, but we do not give up. We are persecuted, but God does not leave us. We are hurt sometimes, but we are not destroyed. We carry the death of Jesus in our own bodies, so that the life of Jesus can also be seen in our bodies.'
2 Corinthians 4: 7-10

An email acquaintance of mine has the following tagline: 'Blessed are the broken, for they let out the light'. Sometimes we hide because we are broken, or we hide our brokeness behind all kind of worldly garments such as career or homemaking. But our brokeness can be a blessing, if we will just embrace it and cry out to God, asking that his light would shine through our cracks, transforming a broken pot into an agent of grace and glory.