I had a pair of pink vinyl trainers, once. A university student during an amazing era of dance music and clubbing, I really wanted to be a part of it. I didn't always like the music. The drugs made me messy and panicky after a bit. But it was happening, my peers were part of it, I embraced it.
So I bought this pair of pink trainers. From Oxford Street in London. I think they were limited edition, imported from the USA. They were amazing. But you know what?
They didn't fit.
Obviously that works as a metaphor, as culturally they weren't the right fit for me, like staying up late or loudly socialising (I could have been a part of the choir, the Chapel, I realise now, but that wasn't a right fit at the time either.)
But I mean, they didn't physically fit.
I wanted to have this pair of pink vinyl Converse trainers so badly; they symbolised the times for me. With my cute little plaits, original Adidas tracksuit top and flared Top Shop jeans I like to think I looked on trend. (This reminds me that I wore my Dad's big black fluffy 70's coat at this time, too. Oh I looked the bomb with a cigarette in my mouth. Or not. ) In the college bar and at parties, I looked the part. Or thought I did. And I so wanted these fancy trainers, that squeaked when I walked, that I spent a lot of money on them - even though they didn't come in my size!
They were always a little too big. So, if we're talking in metaphors here, it was the opposite of being too big for my boots. My shoes were too big for me. But it was a time of style over substance. Marlboro Lights. Tarantino films. Trainspotting. Good times. I found a lot that was good, and real, to hang on to. But I was always a little out of sync. Physically and metaphorically.
Twenty years on, I really feel for the young adult I was starting to become during those times. The things I thought I had to do, be, and of course wear, to enjoy myself. As someone who has never tried to lose weight by dieting, perhaps it's the equivalent of trying to lose a dress size; to fit the way you look to the way you think looks best to the world around you.
Now I'm forty, I've reclaimed a style of my own that's evolved over the last decade - I love what I wear, and it works for me. I don't even worry about being out of sync with the stylistic and cultural zeitgeist, because I'm past that. But it's funny, as yet another person today asked how I cope with having four children - my shoes are still out of step. I'm largely surrounded by families with two children or less. I think perhaps it shouldn't make a difference, but realistically, it does.
Not just practically, but that I made a conscious decision to have a 'larger' family - that I use and have used a fertility awareness method to both become and avoid becoming pregnant, because that is my moral, ethical and religious outlook. It's unusual amongst my peers, the people I was educated with, and the parents I know from the playground. And interestingly, it's out of step with the people with whom I worship. Although I feel that the Anglican setting I belong to is quite catholic, it's definitely not Catholic with a capital C. The only time I have seen another family of four in church is when I went to an ecumenical service at the Roman Catholic Church in our town.
I've stopped taking all of the children at once to our church because I find it too difficult to manage, rather than the fact that we stick out like a sore thumb - but at Christmas and Easter and other times we go as a whole family, we do! I don't think we are a talking point in particularly, and I would like to be a positive role model for having more than the average number of children; although, I probably do so badly trying to manage them that would never happen! But this doesn't cause me worry or concern; I just feel slightly out of kilter.
On the radio yesterday, however, I heard a debate about China's changing its policy to 'allow' couples to have more than one child, and I could literally feel my world grinding to a halt and my stomach start to churn. One of the participants was demanding that all people need is educating to see that having one or two children is enough, and the world would be a better place. A lot of economic, ethical and even moral arguments for population control were wheeled out and those who supported the Chinese government's position literally refused to see anyone else's point of view. I literally cannot comprehend this blinkered attitude. I understand all the rational arguments for limiting population size, and don't seek to dismiss them or nullify them. It's just that actually, humanly and spiritually, I feel that they not only destroy personal autonomy and choice (however 'selfish' these choices may be or are perceived to be), but equate to a political power assuming that they are greater than a natural one. I personally see the way the universe works in a spiritual way, but even if one doesn't - having another human being in control of your fertility doesn't sit right with me.
(My brother-in-law, his wife and children currently live and work in China. Our family might go and visit them in 2017. I suspect it may feel a little like wearing the wrong pair of shoes.)
I wonder what ever happened to that pair of pink trainers. And the girl that wore them. I don't mourn for them, though; I celebrate the opportunities they had. But I am thankful for the person that I have been allowed to become; the family I been allowed to have; and the constant process of personal change I am encouraged to undergo, as a person, as a political subject, and as a child of God.
Showing posts with label me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label me. Show all posts
Thursday, 5 November 2015
Thursday, 22 September 2011
A Strange Interview!
We were reminded last night at my new course about the importance of confidentiality and anonymity, but I just remembered this little incident this morning and had to write about it - I'll try and be gentle!
I was staying in a county in the UK conducting interviews on behalf of a government evaluation (if that's not anonymous, I don't know what is - there were hundreds of these things going on during the last decade.) One of these sessions was a telephone interview with a woman who happened to be pregnant. It was a fairly long interview. She mentioned at one point about her need to pee frequently.
"Oh," I said. "If you want to take a break, we can finish this later."
I was staying in a county in the UK conducting interviews on behalf of a government evaluation (if that's not anonymous, I don't know what is - there were hundreds of these things going on during the last decade.) One of these sessions was a telephone interview with a woman who happened to be pregnant. It was a fairly long interview. She mentioned at one point about her need to pee frequently.
"Oh," I said. "If you want to take a break, we can finish this later."
"It's okay," she said. "I just went. I've been talking to you for the last ten minutes sitting on the toilet."I'm still not sure what I found stranger. That she had taken a loo break while still conducting a telephone interview....or that she admitted the fact. (Or does everyone do this on the phone?!)
Wednesday, 30 March 2011
10 Facts....about my husband and me
When I was 14 I started hanging out with a boy in the year above at school. He'd been dating another girl. Not long afterwards he started dating her again. Yes, pretty short-lived! But our time was to come...
2.
2.
I was 21 when we met again at the opening of a local pub/restaurant where I was working as a waitress. We had both just moved back home after finishing our university degrees. He told his friend that night that he wanted to marry me. I believe this amused me no end!
3.
He got a job where I worked and after a couple of weeks finally asked me out on a date. I had sworn off men big style but after our first couple of dates I was absolutely smitten. Within weeks we were inseparable. That was almost fifteen years ago.
He got a job where I worked and after a couple of weeks finally asked me out on a date. I had sworn off men big style but after our first couple of dates I was absolutely smitten. Within weeks we were inseparable. That was almost fifteen years ago.
4.
5.
I actually, officially, asked him to marry me on February 29th, 2000. (Traditionally women are 'allowed' to propose on that date. Not that I was a traditionalist then!) We were married that same year.
6.
I feel like we've grown and grown up together. I remember renting our first place, buying our first house. Songs, stories and movies that we've shared. He let me learn to drive in his car. He's held my hand in so many ways. (Not least me digging my nails in during labour!)
7.
There is not room to describe all the things he does for me. The main thing is, he does them uncomplaining, just to help me.
9.
We never even thought we would be blessed with one child. Now we have three. Girls. (Pray for him during their teenage years, will you?) And that may not be the end!
10.
He supported me as I continued my studies and moved job and home to be with me for the duration of my PhD. Now he is supporting me in my path to ministry. I am utterly convinced God made us to be together.
5.
I actually, officially, asked him to marry me on February 29th, 2000. (Traditionally women are 'allowed' to propose on that date. Not that I was a traditionalist then!) We were married that same year.
6.
I feel like we've grown and grown up together. I remember renting our first place, buying our first house. Songs, stories and movies that we've shared. He let me learn to drive in his car. He's held my hand in so many ways. (Not least me digging my nails in during labour!)
7.
There are too many songs that mean something to list here. But we walked down the aisle to Suzanne Vega's 'World Before Columbus'. I still feel like everything in life was given colour when we started our relationship. And more so as I came to know God and motherhood in the context of our marriage.
8. There is not room to describe all the things he does for me. The main thing is, he does them uncomplaining, just to help me.
9.
We never even thought we would be blessed with one child. Now we have three. Girls. (Pray for him during their teenage years, will you?) And that may not be the end!
10.
Last year we celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary. Not with fireworks, a party or a trip to Paris. But with a quiet lunch together at the place of our first date while the newborn slept in the buggy next to the table. Happiness.
~
~
Friday, 25 February 2011
A relaxing break in the forest....
Yeah, relaxing, right! Although I *do* feel relaxed in some ways. And I wasn't planning to write about it, but when I sat down to blog about planning simplicity in Lent, loads of wireless network bobbins meant that I only have about enough mental capacity to list a few things that will remain in me after our Sherwood Forest break.....
- My 6 month old Rebecca resolutely tried (and failed) to fight off a cold, and was below par for the entire holiday, sleeping more and eating less, but was ecstatically happy for about one hour, bobbing about in her inflatable seat in the pool with her family.
- Getting 3 girls ready in the busy pool changing rooms at peak time (it's school holidays in the UK) was crazy, even with husband's help; the one we managed to get changed in didn't have a changing station for the baby, and afterwards there were no family rooms so we all squeezed into an 'adult' changing room....which was not fun!
- It was partly due to this and partly due to Rebecca's cold that once the grandparents went home, the big girls only went swimming one at a time with their Daddy. It did strike me that if we had gone to the pool with Mum, Dad, a 6yo, 4yo and 6 month old, we would have been breaking the rules - apparently you need one responsible adult for EACH child under 5 (and one adult per 2 kids over 5 - if that makes sense.) Although taking them altogether isn't straightforward, it would be doable, without those rules - I don't know what bigger families would do (not that I saw any - where do bigger families go on holiday - do they go on holiday? and if they do, maybe they go camping like we do?
- All this aside, one of the best bits of the vacation was being told by my 6 year old that I had to go with her to the outside bit of the pool and swimming through to a steamy, outdoor, forest setting with a pretend waterfall and beautiful view. It was pretty awesome.
- The other best bit was the two bigger girls getting on really well. Obviously we paid for it when we came home today but, compared to the two weeks at Christmas when they fought like cat and dog every minute, this was blissful. They played, drew, listened to stories, watched TV, cycled, swam, talked, sang and danced together. TOGETHER.
- I love to cook and bake, prepare food for my family and take care of their needs. But I loved not having to cook this holiday. I loved being able to order the fish special and indulge myself with takeaway.
- I especially loved the date at French restaurant with my husband, with jazz playing in the background, a beautiful platter of cheese and meats to enjoy, while the grandparents babysat. This was our first date since before the birth of baby Rebecca. It was long overdue.
- Finally, as a way of leading into the Lenten preparation, I will comment on the simplicity of it all. We didn't really budget strictly, so parts of it were indulgent. But others were focused on living simply and on simple pleasures. We lived off leftovers for lunch. We appreciated the squirrels, mallards and swans that came up to the french windows to visit. We stuck with early bedtimes (and early mornings.) We just did one activity a day, and some hanging out. The girls enjoyed drawing together, and separately, on the long chalkboard in our accommodation. We read stories. We read the baby stories. We enjoyed each others' company. We didn't have the use of computers or WiFi (although I still dipped into Facebook and Twitter on my BlackBerry.) All in all, it was a family holiday. And I feel pretty exhausted, but I know that part of me is very much refreshed.
Yeah, spot the camera flash reflecting on the windows :-)
Friday, 21 January 2011
Blessed are the children
OK, no one is allowed to argue with this one - children are blessings.
They see each child as a blessing.
I may not be as open to life as the Catholic bloggers I follow, but I think I've sussed out why I am much more at home spending time online learning about them, their families, their philosophies and their faith.
They see each child as a blessing.
I grew up in a household which I perceive lacked spirituality, and focused more on the lives of the two adults who established it, than any bigger picture. My parents were never concerned about having kids or not, but after I arrived, they knew they didn't want anymore. Children were tricky; they required a whole lot of attention, and if my mother had another, she thought my father would leave. (As it was, dealing with us both seemed to prove a trial for her, especially when our opinions clashed). Around the age of two, I was packed off on holiday with my grandparents and great aunt, so my Dad could recover from his vasectomy peacefully and in less pain.
I didn't enjoy being the only one. Dad didn't like the noisiness and messiness of children - still doesn't. My mother and I spent a lot of time together, but I feel she still treats me like the child I once was, and we have never psychologically moved out of the very small, nuclear family unit that we once were.
So this has perhaps coloured my viewpoint on children. Interestingly, I never gave much thought to having them myself until I met my husband. When it took us years to conceive, I suddenly became more desperate and tried to understand God's plan for us. I didn't desire a larger family; I just wanted a baby.
When a daughter arrived, I was delighted. But it was a steep learning curve. Life was now impossible to plan. Thankfully the gifts of patience, flexibility, humility and spontaneity were bestowed upon me. I learned to put my perfectionism and control issues aside.
And despite the difficulties, we desired to gift our firstborn with a sibling. Luckily this was part of God's plan, too. Daughter1 was just past 18 months when Daughter2 was born. Having them this bunched together was extremely hard work. But, I never doubted the joys. Yet, I never expected to have another.
Whether or not people condone the way we have undertaken family planning, I truly believe our children have been born according to God's plan. Daughter3 arrived last August, four years after her nearest sister. She is a treasure and our family is enriched - and exhausted - beyond bounds. We aren't categorically ruling out having more, even though our current work and domestic situation would logically exclude it.
I don't move in Catholic circles in real life, but I spend a lot of time with fellow Christian women, and several of my friends also have larger families - by which I mean at least three children. But what I am beginning to encounter from people who do not know me or my faith - together with a surprise that I have three children, or surprise that I was open to getting pregnant again in the first place, rather than having a 'happy accident' - is utter shock that I would consider still more children; that I see God's hand in the form my family has taken. And if we go on to discuss the subject, coupled with this is their shock that I consider every child a blessing, rather than sheer hard work and something to deal with, rather than someone to love.
It saddens me that I live in a culture which fetishizes babyhood (yup, a post in progress) but doesn't value children. That thinks larger families exist to live off the welfare state or to cause trouble. That thinks it is enough trouble providing for one, let alone more. That doesn't understand that I can't necessarily chat on the way to the playground because my two school-aged girls are trying to get a word in edgeways with me, and I want to talk with them!
I want to displace the shocked looks from people's faces when they realise that not everyone is fulfilled by living in a small family unit, and that the chaos and sheer messiness of family life can be embraced rather than controlled. I want to reach out to the mothers I know of three, four, and five children and tell them that I understand - it is hard work, but it brings huge joys. I know we are oscillating here in the UK between inherited attitudes that children are 'seen and not heard', and the desire to bestow every material, intellectual and emotional advantage on our children, as long as they develop to their potential. But I wish it weren't so shocking to people to admit to being open to having more children. Yes, it hurts, yes, they challenge us, yes, they don't allow us to do everything we think we should be doing. Yes, being a woman is more than being a wife and mother for many of us. Yes, parenting is a very tough job which needs hard work. But what gifts children are!
Some of us don't feel it is our calling to be mothers, and I'm not saying everyone should be a parent. But I feel it should be everyone's calling to delight in children, to appreciate the human race, especially when they are learning life lessons and beginning to grow, physically, emotionally, spiritually. When we are across the way in France and Spain, our children are treated as people, rather than nuisances. They are treated as special, unique human beings rather than noisy little things who just should shut up so the adults can talk in peace. In my indigenous environment, I don't seem to meet many people who see each child as a gift and a blessing, rather than something to stymie our own lifestyles, drain our resources, grey our hair and tire us out. So thank God for the websites and blogs that I read, that value children oh so much. On some days, they help me more than they would every realise.
Blessed are the children.
So this has perhaps coloured my viewpoint on children. Interestingly, I never gave much thought to having them myself until I met my husband. When it took us years to conceive, I suddenly became more desperate and tried to understand God's plan for us. I didn't desire a larger family; I just wanted a baby.
When a daughter arrived, I was delighted. But it was a steep learning curve. Life was now impossible to plan. Thankfully the gifts of patience, flexibility, humility and spontaneity were bestowed upon me. I learned to put my perfectionism and control issues aside.
And despite the difficulties, we desired to gift our firstborn with a sibling. Luckily this was part of God's plan, too. Daughter1 was just past 18 months when Daughter2 was born. Having them this bunched together was extremely hard work. But, I never doubted the joys. Yet, I never expected to have another.
Whether or not people condone the way we have undertaken family planning, I truly believe our children have been born according to God's plan. Daughter3 arrived last August, four years after her nearest sister. She is a treasure and our family is enriched - and exhausted - beyond bounds. We aren't categorically ruling out having more, even though our current work and domestic situation would logically exclude it.
I don't move in Catholic circles in real life, but I spend a lot of time with fellow Christian women, and several of my friends also have larger families - by which I mean at least three children. But what I am beginning to encounter from people who do not know me or my faith - together with a surprise that I have three children, or surprise that I was open to getting pregnant again in the first place, rather than having a 'happy accident' - is utter shock that I would consider still more children; that I see God's hand in the form my family has taken. And if we go on to discuss the subject, coupled with this is their shock that I consider every child a blessing, rather than sheer hard work and something to deal with, rather than someone to love.
It saddens me that I live in a culture which fetishizes babyhood (yup, a post in progress) but doesn't value children. That thinks larger families exist to live off the welfare state or to cause trouble. That thinks it is enough trouble providing for one, let alone more. That doesn't understand that I can't necessarily chat on the way to the playground because my two school-aged girls are trying to get a word in edgeways with me, and I want to talk with them!
I want to displace the shocked looks from people's faces when they realise that not everyone is fulfilled by living in a small family unit, and that the chaos and sheer messiness of family life can be embraced rather than controlled. I want to reach out to the mothers I know of three, four, and five children and tell them that I understand - it is hard work, but it brings huge joys. I know we are oscillating here in the UK between inherited attitudes that children are 'seen and not heard', and the desire to bestow every material, intellectual and emotional advantage on our children, as long as they develop to their potential. But I wish it weren't so shocking to people to admit to being open to having more children. Yes, it hurts, yes, they challenge us, yes, they don't allow us to do everything we think we should be doing. Yes, being a woman is more than being a wife and mother for many of us. Yes, parenting is a very tough job which needs hard work. But what gifts children are!
Some of us don't feel it is our calling to be mothers, and I'm not saying everyone should be a parent. But I feel it should be everyone's calling to delight in children, to appreciate the human race, especially when they are learning life lessons and beginning to grow, physically, emotionally, spiritually. When we are across the way in France and Spain, our children are treated as people, rather than nuisances. They are treated as special, unique human beings rather than noisy little things who just should shut up so the adults can talk in peace. In my indigenous environment, I don't seem to meet many people who see each child as a gift and a blessing, rather than something to stymie our own lifestyles, drain our resources, grey our hair and tire us out. So thank God for the websites and blogs that I read, that value children oh so much. On some days, they help me more than they would every realise.
Blessed are the children.
Wednesday, 5 January 2011
Wordy Wednesday
Posted - just because I can. After two weeks of Christmas holidays, I can sit with a cup of tea while the baby sleeps because now I have TWO big girls at school! My little baby bunch (aged 4.5 yrs and 6 yrs) are now in consecutive school years and will see each other in the playground and lunch hall. (Hopefully they will treat each other more nicely than they do @ home.)
Don't expect many more posts, though - it's only today, because I'm all over the place, that I'm allowing myself the luxury of this moment, in a house which is still extremely Christmassy, in need of a good vacuum, mop, bed linen change, reorganise, tidy, purge, declutter, send everything to the charity shop or jumble sale (OK, this may be an extreme reaction to #2 daughter starting school, but this home is in need of a good sort out)....
...anyway the baby is about to wake :-)
Happy New Year!
Don't expect many more posts, though - it's only today, because I'm all over the place, that I'm allowing myself the luxury of this moment, in a house which is still extremely Christmassy, in need of a good vacuum, mop, bed linen change, reorganise, tidy, purge, declutter, send everything to the charity shop or jumble sale (OK, this may be an extreme reaction to #2 daughter starting school, but this home is in need of a good sort out)....
...anyway the baby is about to wake :-)
Happy New Year!
Friday, 10 December 2010
Preparation and Penance?: Striving for Humility in Advent
A little while back, I posted on how I'm quite happy that I'm following my calling of motherhood and homemaking, fulfilled by not achieving my academic potential. I'm afraid that was only a representation of the truth. I'm a proud, proud fraud.
Although I DO love cleaning, baking, preparing meals, wiping little bottoms and so on (not that I do enough of all this!!), and feel very fulfilled while immersed in it, if this were all there had been in my life, I'm not sure whether it would be enough.
Although I laugh when my children get confused when Daddy says Mummy is quite clever, my University of Oxford education often sustains me. Yes! I was clever enough to go there, my ego tells itself. And I managed to read a lot of books! And pass a lot of exams!
Although I happy to be referred to as Mrs, I am permitted to go by the title Dr due to my acquisition of a PhD eight years ago, and if people don't realise that, or call me Miss, or comment on my being Dr Standen but then continue to call me Mrs, only my husband can tell you how angry I get! Sometimes I use my credit card that says Dr on it because I want to show off my status, in a very different way that I like to tell people I am the mother of three wonderful girls.
Obviously there are issues here. When I was younger, my academic abilities were championed at the expense of other things I could do, but not as well; I never felt that I had to work that hard at being clever, which felt fraudulent in itself. Few of my contemporaries at school saw academic achievement as a good thing. For years I kept my academic successes hidden away because I was ashamed, and because I felt they detracted from how people related to me when they found out I could use my brain well. The fact that I have qualifications but have not gone on to publish confounds some people; conversely, my fellow PhD students can't believe I gave up my career to focus on motherhood.
But really, people generally don't care (and if they do, they have their own issues with status.) And after all God gave me this brain to use well, and I have, and I may keep on doing so. But I really need to practice letting go of the awards this brain of mine has achieved. Yes, slogging for a PhD was really hard work, and it's nice to have the thesis on my shelf (for one thing, it presses dried flowers beautifully.) But it doesn't define me as a person, and if I'd never undertaken it, I wouldn't want to feel regret or bemoan that I was 'only' a mother.
I know I have had opportunities others never get. I don't consider them a waste, but I don't consider them something here and now in my life - they are like the plaque on a wall commemorating my former self. I've evolved into something new, who now studies theology with a passion but loves, despite her feminism, to place herself firmly in the kitchen. Of course I feel God's hand on this whole journey. I feel the gifts he has given me all come together with a synergy that may take me somewhere else he wants me, if he needs me to.
I found out this week that someone whose gifts, talents and self I really respect turned down the opportunity of a similar education to mine, and it just blew me away. The fact that we don't have to do the status thing. We don't have to hide behind labels. We need to do what we discern is right for us. We have to be honest and humble, like the Father sees us. He has His plans for us, and although the human world may place certain attributes higher than others, He just wants us to serve, as we grow into the people he designed us to be. I've been dissing Saint Paul over at Conversion Diary this week, but he was quite right telling us that the way the world perceives wisdom may be foolish God. And of course Jesus too asks us not to seek the praise of humans.
This Advent I've felt myself being stripped bare little by little; feeling overawed by the heritage stemming from Genesis that we view through the Jesse tree. Realising that even if I mind that my minister sees me mainly as a mother, a helper and a volunteer, then my ego needs to re-adjust. Realising that being a mother, or an academic, or managing to turn in my next assignment for my theology course, is not the important thing. Listening, and responding; awaiting the coming of Jesus; letting loose pride and taking on humility, are.
It's not a fundamentalist interpretation, but I surely don't believe there was just Mary and Joseph in that stable. SOMEONE would have helped them out, brought them water, gave help through labour. But that someone has been lost forever in history. Their role in ensuring the Messiah came to us safely doesn't matter to anyone but God. And that's okay.
Although I DO love cleaning, baking, preparing meals, wiping little bottoms and so on (not that I do enough of all this!!), and feel very fulfilled while immersed in it, if this were all there had been in my life, I'm not sure whether it would be enough.
Although I laugh when my children get confused when Daddy says Mummy is quite clever, my University of Oxford education often sustains me. Yes! I was clever enough to go there, my ego tells itself. And I managed to read a lot of books! And pass a lot of exams!
Although I happy to be referred to as Mrs, I am permitted to go by the title Dr due to my acquisition of a PhD eight years ago, and if people don't realise that, or call me Miss, or comment on my being Dr Standen but then continue to call me Mrs, only my husband can tell you how angry I get! Sometimes I use my credit card that says Dr on it because I want to show off my status, in a very different way that I like to tell people I am the mother of three wonderful girls.
Obviously there are issues here. When I was younger, my academic abilities were championed at the expense of other things I could do, but not as well; I never felt that I had to work that hard at being clever, which felt fraudulent in itself. Few of my contemporaries at school saw academic achievement as a good thing. For years I kept my academic successes hidden away because I was ashamed, and because I felt they detracted from how people related to me when they found out I could use my brain well. The fact that I have qualifications but have not gone on to publish confounds some people; conversely, my fellow PhD students can't believe I gave up my career to focus on motherhood.
But really, people generally don't care (and if they do, they have their own issues with status.) And after all God gave me this brain to use well, and I have, and I may keep on doing so. But I really need to practice letting go of the awards this brain of mine has achieved. Yes, slogging for a PhD was really hard work, and it's nice to have the thesis on my shelf (for one thing, it presses dried flowers beautifully.) But it doesn't define me as a person, and if I'd never undertaken it, I wouldn't want to feel regret or bemoan that I was 'only' a mother.
I know I have had opportunities others never get. I don't consider them a waste, but I don't consider them something here and now in my life - they are like the plaque on a wall commemorating my former self. I've evolved into something new, who now studies theology with a passion but loves, despite her feminism, to place herself firmly in the kitchen. Of course I feel God's hand on this whole journey. I feel the gifts he has given me all come together with a synergy that may take me somewhere else he wants me, if he needs me to.
I found out this week that someone whose gifts, talents and self I really respect turned down the opportunity of a similar education to mine, and it just blew me away. The fact that we don't have to do the status thing. We don't have to hide behind labels. We need to do what we discern is right for us. We have to be honest and humble, like the Father sees us. He has His plans for us, and although the human world may place certain attributes higher than others, He just wants us to serve, as we grow into the people he designed us to be. I've been dissing Saint Paul over at Conversion Diary this week, but he was quite right telling us that the way the world perceives wisdom may be foolish God. And of course Jesus too asks us not to seek the praise of humans.
This Advent I've felt myself being stripped bare little by little; feeling overawed by the heritage stemming from Genesis that we view through the Jesse tree. Realising that even if I mind that my minister sees me mainly as a mother, a helper and a volunteer, then my ego needs to re-adjust. Realising that being a mother, or an academic, or managing to turn in my next assignment for my theology course, is not the important thing. Listening, and responding; awaiting the coming of Jesus; letting loose pride and taking on humility, are.
It's not a fundamentalist interpretation, but I surely don't believe there was just Mary and Joseph in that stable. SOMEONE would have helped them out, brought them water, gave help through labour. But that someone has been lost forever in history. Their role in ensuring the Messiah came to us safely doesn't matter to anyone but God. And that's okay.
Wednesday, 22 September 2010
Wittering Wednesday!: Lost at sea without an anchor?
I can see I'm going to have to alternate my Wednesdays...how typical that the blog has been silent for a week and when I want to spill, it's a Wednesday! (And I haven't had to be inspired by Morning Prayer this week. But we are talking spirituality here.)
My second year of lay ministry training for the Church of England commences next week, so we've been doing a little reading. I've already read Richard Foster's Streams of Living Water during my first year, and appreciated it, but this week we are asked to look at the foreword by Martin Marty, which refers to spirituality not in terms of streams, but in terms of being 'moored' or 'unmoored'.
It suggests, basically, that spirituality which is linked to an organised church or religion is 'moored', whereas the 'New Age' "I'm spiritual but I don't worship" kind is unmoored - a ship without an anchor, as it were. And I'm not sure that this is a useful way of looking at things.
Firstly, it draws a strict line between those who worship communally according to shared rules and regulations, and those who don't. Those who find God in creation, who seek him in meditation, who don't label the intangible but nevertheless feel it, are seen as adrift. Those who go through the motions of church services, getting wound up about who is doing the coffee rota with them this week and fussing over the choice of hymns, are seen as connected. How is that right? How is dismissing the strictures of organised religion in favour of something freer and more personal that works for you, guaranteed to take you away from God?
Admittedly, it winds me up. People whose behaviour I consistently see as selfish banging on about their 'spirituality' and 'feeling something' when their actions don't change; they aren't interested in a holy spirit acting within them or others. But for many, including myself, that's where it begins. My conversion from atheism to Christianity actually came about through Muslim friends discussing their faith; I'm not suggesting that Islam is in any way unmoored (no pun intended), but I didn't know if I had found a spirituality, Allah, God or Gandalf the Grey at this stage.
Everyone has to start somewhere on their spiritual journey. At every point on it, whether finding calm through yogic meditation or finding transcendental peace up a mountain, I tend to think God is there, trying to reel us in - looking for His lost sheep, putting out the feelers, welcoming us home. We're not disconnected from Him, we're just experiencing Him in a different way. Over time we may discover the Qu'ran, the real meaning of Jesus, the faith of Judaism, and start to engage in religious practices.
But these practices themselves can be seen as mere ritual; people go through the motions every Sunday without feeling anything spiritual. God knows and understands why so many people are put off organised religion when it is responsible for so much hurt and indifference. Yes, the Abrahamic religions can offer a structure by which to live our lives - but does that make us any more connected to God? What about the person who blindly follows the rules of a dubious religious cult - faithful, and moored to what exactly?
If Marty had been explicitly speaking about the Christian faith and Jesus, I could understand a little better. Yes, perhaps toying with crystals and never convening with other Christians renders you adrift from the wonderful fellowship of the faith and discovering more about the Holy Spirit. But the author's dividing the world into those who are meaningfully spiritual and those whose spirituality has little meaning in his terms. (And really, who is he to judge?)
The Christian faith & Church of England are obviously important to me, and I desire that many more people I know can come to understand their importance and worship God through them. I want others to encounter the glory and humility of Christ, and learn to live more like Jesus. But there are other types of Christianity; there are other world faiths; there are other ways of connecting with God. Aren't we all experiencing the same thing, under a different guise, at a different point on our journey? Is it just a question of semantics, after all?
This time last year, I asked friends and colleagues to define spirituality. The most loquacious on the subject were largely atheists and agnostics; they recognised spirituality as a human phenomenon, this need to connect with the something out there, but they didn't necessarily relate it to even a personal theology. Martin Marty defines unmoored spirituality as 'self-acquired', but I think he's missing the point. God surely helps us acquire our spirituality, in whatever shape it comes; he made us with the capacity - the desire - to seek for the spiritual, wherever we can find it.
To me, it's not whether my spirituality is moored or unmoored - I believe that all spirituality has God as its anchor at some level, striving to break through any drivel and fakery (and I'm not just talking about New Age approaches here!). It's how we commune with it. It's how we let God meet with us and shape us, direct us and allow us to grow into the people we are meant to be. It's how we let our spirituality define us and run through us like the letters in a stick of rock, rather than a label on our foreheads. It's about whether we listen when we're praying or actually care for the people with mental health problems who come to church, rather than just tolerate them. It's about what our quiet time inspires us to do, and challenges us to become. It's about what we read means to us, as well as to others, and what it helps us, with God's grace, to understand. It's not about being linked to a specific religious tradition or not - rather, it's what we do with the spiritual tools that are at our disposal, right now, on our journey to God. Never mind the anchor - how and why is the rudder being steered?
My second year of lay ministry training for the Church of England commences next week, so we've been doing a little reading. I've already read Richard Foster's Streams of Living Water during my first year, and appreciated it, but this week we are asked to look at the foreword by Martin Marty, which refers to spirituality not in terms of streams, but in terms of being 'moored' or 'unmoored'.
It suggests, basically, that spirituality which is linked to an organised church or religion is 'moored', whereas the 'New Age' "I'm spiritual but I don't worship" kind is unmoored - a ship without an anchor, as it were. And I'm not sure that this is a useful way of looking at things.
Firstly, it draws a strict line between those who worship communally according to shared rules and regulations, and those who don't. Those who find God in creation, who seek him in meditation, who don't label the intangible but nevertheless feel it, are seen as adrift. Those who go through the motions of church services, getting wound up about who is doing the coffee rota with them this week and fussing over the choice of hymns, are seen as connected. How is that right? How is dismissing the strictures of organised religion in favour of something freer and more personal that works for you, guaranteed to take you away from God?
Admittedly, it winds me up. People whose behaviour I consistently see as selfish banging on about their 'spirituality' and 'feeling something' when their actions don't change; they aren't interested in a holy spirit acting within them or others. But for many, including myself, that's where it begins. My conversion from atheism to Christianity actually came about through Muslim friends discussing their faith; I'm not suggesting that Islam is in any way unmoored (no pun intended), but I didn't know if I had found a spirituality, Allah, God or Gandalf the Grey at this stage.
Everyone has to start somewhere on their spiritual journey. At every point on it, whether finding calm through yogic meditation or finding transcendental peace up a mountain, I tend to think God is there, trying to reel us in - looking for His lost sheep, putting out the feelers, welcoming us home. We're not disconnected from Him, we're just experiencing Him in a different way. Over time we may discover the Qu'ran, the real meaning of Jesus, the faith of Judaism, and start to engage in religious practices.
But these practices themselves can be seen as mere ritual; people go through the motions every Sunday without feeling anything spiritual. God knows and understands why so many people are put off organised religion when it is responsible for so much hurt and indifference. Yes, the Abrahamic religions can offer a structure by which to live our lives - but does that make us any more connected to God? What about the person who blindly follows the rules of a dubious religious cult - faithful, and moored to what exactly?
If Marty had been explicitly speaking about the Christian faith and Jesus, I could understand a little better. Yes, perhaps toying with crystals and never convening with other Christians renders you adrift from the wonderful fellowship of the faith and discovering more about the Holy Spirit. But the author's dividing the world into those who are meaningfully spiritual and those whose spirituality has little meaning in his terms. (And really, who is he to judge?)
The Christian faith & Church of England are obviously important to me, and I desire that many more people I know can come to understand their importance and worship God through them. I want others to encounter the glory and humility of Christ, and learn to live more like Jesus. But there are other types of Christianity; there are other world faiths; there are other ways of connecting with God. Aren't we all experiencing the same thing, under a different guise, at a different point on our journey? Is it just a question of semantics, after all?
This time last year, I asked friends and colleagues to define spirituality. The most loquacious on the subject were largely atheists and agnostics; they recognised spirituality as a human phenomenon, this need to connect with the something out there, but they didn't necessarily relate it to even a personal theology. Martin Marty defines unmoored spirituality as 'self-acquired', but I think he's missing the point. God surely helps us acquire our spirituality, in whatever shape it comes; he made us with the capacity - the desire - to seek for the spiritual, wherever we can find it.
To me, it's not whether my spirituality is moored or unmoored - I believe that all spirituality has God as its anchor at some level, striving to break through any drivel and fakery (and I'm not just talking about New Age approaches here!). It's how we commune with it. It's how we let God meet with us and shape us, direct us and allow us to grow into the people we are meant to be. It's how we let our spirituality define us and run through us like the letters in a stick of rock, rather than a label on our foreheads. It's about whether we listen when we're praying or actually care for the people with mental health problems who come to church, rather than just tolerate them. It's about what our quiet time inspires us to do, and challenges us to become. It's about what we read means to us, as well as to others, and what it helps us, with God's grace, to understand. It's not about being linked to a specific religious tradition or not - rather, it's what we do with the spiritual tools that are at our disposal, right now, on our journey to God. Never mind the anchor - how and why is the rudder being steered?
~
(By the way I would thoroughly recommend Streams of Living Water as a read!)
Friday, 3 September 2010
Quick Take Friday - Volume 1
~1~
I am much less sleep deprived than yesterday. Rebecca (4 weeks) only woke to feed every 3 hours. Imogen (4.5 yrs) needed tucking in only twice, and I was already awake. Sophie (nearly 6 years) woke twice (including from a sSakemare) and only kept me awake for an hour. This all adds up to much more sleep than the night before! What a difference some sleep makes! When I was in labour I thought of Jesus's suffering. When I'm sleep deprived I'm just impatient, ratty, unreasonable...
~2~
I don't want to be stuck around the house today, but I've missed an important parcel full of baby stuff for the past 2 days so I'm sitting in with the baby while Imogen visits Grandma and Grandad, and Sophie goes hiking with Daddy. I would so love to hike, it makes me ache but I'll settle for returning the books to the library & shopping for a new lunchbox for Sophie...please deliver the parcel this morning.
~3~
I cannot believe how smoothly shoe shopping went yesterday. Both big girls chose smart, proper fitting school shoes within about ten minutes. I even got an Iced Caramel Latte from Starbucks. Becky stayed asleep throughout. She must think she never leaves the house!
~4~
Finally, finally, finally, our Church Next Door (aka Sunday School) starts again this week. I think the big girls are more than ready, although they have done well drawing and colouring, with some singing and dancing, during the Family Service in Church. And hopefully it will mean people getting to see Rebecca without me being swamped at the end of the service!
~5~
It reminds me though - now she is starting in Year 1 at school, Sophie gets to go up to the next group at Church Next Door, without me, without her sisters. I always embrace the back-to-schoolness of the season, and I think ordinarily we would all be looking forward to the new, the return of structure and routine, the change. But we have spent the summer with a new baby, and I feel it will be a huge wrench for Sophie. New class, new classmates, new term, while I go home with the baby. New group at Church. Dance exams, then moving up to new dance classes. I'm sure she'll survive. But I'm praying especially for her at this time. I always thought Imogen would be the most affected by the new baby, but Sophie has been stuck to me like glue this holidays. I hope to prise her from my leg in order to go in the classroom on Wednesday morning...
~6~
Although of course, Jessica will be there - the 'best friend' (who I am trying to get Sophie to call a 'very good' friend, so as not to put all her emotional eggs in one basket). Hopefully returning to school, learning & Jessica will give Sophie something new to focus on. She had her first sleepover at Jess' house this holidays, which was a great success, especially considering the clinginess :-)
~7~
It's the end of the last full week of the long summer holiday. Only next Monday and Tuesday left to rest and prepare. Part of me is full of a sense of melancholy - the changing weather, the season, the elder girls starting back into their routine - can you tell? But, we have a new life to nurture and help develop, to introduce to the wonderful things in the world, so I need to embrace that joy. And there's the run-up to Christmas of course - and Sophie is sat at the kitchen table crafting the first homemade Christmas card of the season as I type...
Thursday, 19 August 2010
Daybooking* in the month of AUGUST
OK, so I missed July. But, I was heavily pregnant, had finished my first year of assignments and the kids had finished school. Early August, I had the baby, and 2 weeks later, I feel a little more human (I said a little....)
Outside my window: Actually, it's getting Autumnal, which is mad, as I purchased quite a bit of newborn stuff for Rebecca envisaging that we were going to be in the middle of a summer heatwave this month. I love the view over the fields and woods at the back in the sunshine, and also the nip in the air, but its bittersweet - Dear Husband is returning to work next week, leaving me with the entertaining of 3 beautiful yet demanding girls (nearly 6, 4.5 and 0) and in less than 3 weeks the elder ones will return to school and pre-school....just as I am getting used to spending lovely time together as a family of five.
Thoughts: I don't think I am thinking as such - my mind is idling, between feeds and naptimes. I'm thinking of food a lot. Especially things I didn't have during pregnancy, like smelly, really stinky, nasty cheese. And not thinking at all about the food I craved like billy-o during pregnancy (I would not care if I never ate Mexican again. Go figure.)
Thanksgiving: For the safe arrival of Baby Rebecca Mary. For keeping me safe with my family. For the gift of life.
Kitchen goings-on: Hahahahaha. Ask my Husband. He's been washing, preparing food, cleaning surfaces, sterilising breast pump, nipple shields and breast shells ad infinitum. I have planned a weekly menu and ordered some food for delivery from the supermarket this afternoon. But I'm not cooking. Despite my mother's assumption I would be whipping up a blackberry and apple crumble (the blackberries my Dad picked from the garden went straight in the freezer.)
Reading: Facebook, Facebook, BBC News, Parenting Magazine, HIPP Babyclub website, Mothercare website - what do you know, I'm in a baby bubble.
Listening: CBeebies TV Channel. Girls lounging around on the sofa. Dustbins being moved around outside. More CBeebies. No 2 week old baby screaming for food - yet. She's napping.
Wearing: A lovely button-up red and white summer dress which is suitable for entertaining guests and quick breastfeeding (I mean quick opening, we don't do quick feeding in our house - minimum 45 minutes, up to 1.5 hours, each session.)
Around the house: I'm doing as little as possible. Girls are getting their sheets changed, we're going to try and do some vacuuming today. The day before labour, I was sticking up wallpaper borders and painting gaps in the kitchen wall white. I'm super glad we got the new sink, but strangely enough, household things aren't annoying me this month!
A Favourite Thing: The family. Girls. They're being great. From the biggest to the littlest. All troopers. And Husband has been a hero, from supporting me through labour to putting up with my sleep deprived rattiness.
*With thanks to Peggy.
Tuesday, 3 August 2010
The final stage....
Well, this is it folks! Soon we'll have Baby No 3 (possibly a Rebecca, or an Edward, and no the boy's name is not inspired by Twilight....) I think I'm starting to panic, as although the old cervix appears to be ripening and I am doing mad bastard things like sticking on new wallpaper borders and washing children's shoes with fabric shampoo, I'm certainly not prepared for delivery on Thursday.
Yes, Thursday! Best case scenario - we are the only ones booked in for C-Section on that day, there are no emergencies, and I am in theatre in the morning. Worst case - we are one of 4 booked in, and there are emergencies, and we will have to wait (on nil by mouth - thousands of apologies in advance, Dear Husband, if this makes me - additionally - moody.) And although I have this big faith, I still have anxiety - mainly because despite having 2 previous C-sections, they weren't planned in quite the same way as this one, and I just had to go with it, rather than having some semblance of structure but not being sure about the details.
Also, I'm trying to put in the back of mind thoughts about what happens if everything should go horribly wrong, as I have the best husband/friend/partner & 2 wonderful little girls at home - I just keep reminding myself that this is actually a routine operation these days. It's kind of like my fear of flying though - I'll be praying, and I know lots of other people are praying, for safe delivery - but I'm having to completely relinquish control and rely on the blessed surgeon and other health professionals who are helping out God bring new life into the world. So I'll be praying for them too! There'd be no guarantee that things would be any less worrying if a vaginal delivery was on the cards (in fact, knowing me, they'd be far more problematic)*, but I still can't quite get my head round the knowledge that we're going in on Thursday and baby will finally be with us!
It's not been an arduous pregnancy - my husband may differ on this, as he's been the one picking up the pieces while I was full of vomit, & struggling with pelvic pain - but I am ready for it to come to and end and meet the newbie. Obviously not looking to post-op recovery and lack of sleep and trying to get feeding sorted and so on - and my family are the best helpers in the world, but they may need entertaining with other stuff before long :-) But, we'll get there. See you on the other side!
*just watch me kick off into active labour this afternoon, that'll teach me!
Yes, Thursday! Best case scenario - we are the only ones booked in for C-Section on that day, there are no emergencies, and I am in theatre in the morning. Worst case - we are one of 4 booked in, and there are emergencies, and we will have to wait (on nil by mouth - thousands of apologies in advance, Dear Husband, if this makes me - additionally - moody.) And although I have this big faith, I still have anxiety - mainly because despite having 2 previous C-sections, they weren't planned in quite the same way as this one, and I just had to go with it, rather than having some semblance of structure but not being sure about the details.
Also, I'm trying to put in the back of mind thoughts about what happens if everything should go horribly wrong, as I have the best husband/friend/partner & 2 wonderful little girls at home - I just keep reminding myself that this is actually a routine operation these days. It's kind of like my fear of flying though - I'll be praying, and I know lots of other people are praying, for safe delivery - but I'm having to completely relinquish control and rely on the blessed surgeon and other health professionals who are helping out God bring new life into the world. So I'll be praying for them too! There'd be no guarantee that things would be any less worrying if a vaginal delivery was on the cards (in fact, knowing me, they'd be far more problematic)*, but I still can't quite get my head round the knowledge that we're going in on Thursday and baby will finally be with us!
It's not been an arduous pregnancy - my husband may differ on this, as he's been the one picking up the pieces while I was full of vomit, & struggling with pelvic pain - but I am ready for it to come to and end and meet the newbie. Obviously not looking to post-op recovery and lack of sleep and trying to get feeding sorted and so on - and my family are the best helpers in the world, but they may need entertaining with other stuff before long :-) But, we'll get there. See you on the other side!
*just watch me kick off into active labour this afternoon, that'll teach me!
Friday, 2 July 2010
My Call to Christian Ministry
Wow, what a moment. You meet your new vicar & she tells you that she is actually on the National Selection Committee for ordinands to the Church of England, and would you tell her about your calling? Brain freeze! (not counting the pregnancy hormones.) I think I muttered something about lamps shining and Jonah being eaten by a big fish. The irony is, I have pages of diary entries and thoughts on this, and have finally accepted I have a calling to ministry, but to summarise it coherently in a few paragraphs? No idea!
So I'm doing it here, probably for an audience of very few people, and it may freak out my husband. But, it's time....
It is really weird doing this in retrospect, because as it stands now, I cannot imagine a life path to anything else. It's kind of like becoming a mother - first it was a potential, then a possibility, then an actuality which just felt so right. And because - like Moses, like Jonah, like all those people in history who literally begged God for it not to be them - I spent so long resisting His efforts even to get me into a church again, the enormity of my turnaround is so ironic and amazing it's difficult to put it into words.
Luckily, when I spoke almost 2 years ago to our incumbent Anglican priest, she encouraged me to chart my journey, as well as to enrol on a Diocesan programme of study (which has both challenged and strongly confirmed my calling.) So I have diary entries, computer notes, scribbled notes and quotes on bits of paper, that I can now put together to make a partial picture, at least, of something sometimes practical, sometimes spiritual, but always there, if often intangible!
So, my current thinking is, God has me earmarked for ordained ministry, as well as ministering to my family, and He has always had me picked out for this; everything that has gone before contributes towards it. And I know this - how?! Well, aside from receiving spiritual gifts from the Holy Spirit and feelings of utter completeness and peace in accepting the challenge; aside from the simple understanding that this is what I should be going on to do, writing the words on pages of a book that has already been written; aside from recognising that, academically and practically, I have been blessed with skills which combine to make me feel equipped for the 'job', I don't really 'know' at all! I still doubt, and I still dither, but ultimately - I believe God Knows. He has His plan/s for me, and I just need to pray and grow into them.
When I do go back retrospectively to 2008, after my baptism but before my confirmation in the Anglican faith, there are certain events I strongly recall:
January 2008 - Working away in Norwich - driving around singing 'This Little Light of Mine, I'm Gonna Let It Shine' incessantly, unable to get it out of my head - I didn't have a copy of the song, nor had heard it in years. Staying in a hotel, I opened the Bible up 'randomly' and read a Gospel verse about how you don't light a lamp and put it under a bowl, you put it on a stand, to let it shine. Next hotel, different Bible, different Gospel - same words. At this point I felt that God had something different in store for me than the evaluation work for the government that I was doing...
February 2008 - A Bible study group which left me reeling having experienced the presence of God so strongly within me for the first time. I couldn't tell anyone about this for ages, but I just wanted to sing, laugh and shout. I really did not know what was going on but I was transfixed and transformed by this experience. It was the first time I had told God I would serve Him how he wanted me to serve him, to use me as his vessel, and then & since He poured the fruits of the Holy Spirit upon me. He has taken my willingness to be His humble servant and blessed with me joys, strengths and understanding in the face of adversity.
March 2008: I think the Holy Spirit was with all of us at the New Wine Women's Christian Conference in Harrogate that day. Again, it was the start of a picture coming together for me, an understanding that God has something new in store for me. I had been dreaming about thistles (like I have recently been dreaming about bees), and they were there in the talk about God needing us to come out of our comfort zone to do God's will...
May 2008: As well as Pentecost, it was the 2nd birthday of one of my daughters and both of the girls were absolutely filled that morning in Church, dancing and singing and waving ribbons about. I knew little about Pentecost at that point and for once had let them pick whatever clothes they wanted to wear for Sunday best - and I swear, they both dressed themselves, one all in yellow, the other all in red, matching the ribbons they swang, matching those tongues of fire! Again, I told no one at the time, but I got so much out of the service that day (unusual for me at that stage looking after the 2 girls on my own...)
June 2008: I had taken part in an Alpha course which confirmed all the initial feelings of taking on board what God wants for me. The 'Holy Spirit' away day was wonderful - 'I the Lord of Sea & Sky' in particular spoke to me - but I was aware that I was resisting responding to God's call. This is the part in the story where, for the next year, every so often, usually when I most needed it, our Sophie brings me Jonah and the Whale to read. A year later, she was still doing it - picking it out in the New Wine kids play tent, asking me to read it from my Bible (I do...) - it still crops up even though I am answering the call :-)
August 2008: I finally talk to one of the Readers from Church about everything that has happened during the year. He does not think I am mad. He felt it too when he prayed with me on the Away Day; there is definitely something to take forward. I spend lots of time in contemplation, knowing that there is no urgency, but experiencing such peace that I have shared my knowledge that I am being called to ministry with someone who has experienced something similar. I do start keeping a prayer diary.
September 2008 - Pram Service starts for the academic year & I am one of the new helpers. I don't know how this came about (except I do, really!) but it is amazing how much I am in my comfort zone & love reading the children the Bible story. Although it was not the sort of ministry I envisaged, it works well and I seize the opportunity God has given me.
October 2008 - I finally talk to our priest about the possibilities and opportunities for the future. Rather than sit and laugh at my belief I have a calling to ministry, she is understanding and encouraging. Things feel that they are fitting into place; I am excited! And although the thought of a career in the Church, and the practical steps it will involved, is on my mind, my main feeling is of being filled with God's grace & spirit to be transformed into how/who He wants me to be. My priest feels that enrolling on the Diocesan Certificate course in 2009 will be a good place to start exploring my calling.
November 2008 - "God works out of (human) time, and sometimes subtly, but my role in the huge connected web of the universe is beginning to take on new life now. Not because of me, but because Jesus is in me, or in that part of me which ministers."
January 2009 - "I am just a trainee and I feel confident about my calling but not about my ability to follow it through."
February 2009 - I am more involved in Church life, continuing to help with the Pram Service & also serve on the Women's Group Committee & Baptism Preparation Team. I also start reading from the Bible in Church which is horrendously scary at first, but is now second nature & people often comment on their enjoyment of it (which is lovely but I know it's not their praise that counts.)
March 2009 - "Learning to lead Pram Service & deal with other people's ways is such a huge challenge & I do feel up to the task when God is holding my hand, as He does, but it's still daunting." / "I'm amazed by how RIGHT everything feels. I truly feel that God is taking me by the hand, & is often nearby. And that I've made some 'right' decisions (or I am following my destined path)."
May 2009 - I revisit the Alpha course & this time have more of a function in guiding other believers. I join the ministry team 'Prayer and Praise' group on a Saturday morning and feel completely out of my depth! "Perhaps I need to stop being impatient and see this as preparation time."
June 2009 - I am very much feeling like an enabler in all the intertwined spheres in which I operate, this seems to be my style of leadership. On a Quiet Day with other church members, the image of an oak tree captivates me, and I do feel like a little acorn, which has all its future potential within it from the seed, but it doesn't know it, until over time it puts down roots and begins its growth. I share with the Prayer and Praise team that I intend to start the Diocesan certificate in September.
September 2009 - Beginning the Diocesan Certificate. "I feel the Lord has put me here. It's right, and not more than I can do. But I still resist, & lack faith in myself! This is what I am...wherever it leads. I need to be comfortable realising I don't need to know where it leads (or admit to myself it could lead to leading worship which scares me silly!) Kids, home & family are fine & I would love to rest on my laurels & forget about stretching myself - but I'm determined to start climbing this mountain."
November 2009: During the interregnum at church - "I'm not always filled with ideas about my calling, but despite of (or perhaps because of) the [recent] difficulties I have experienced...I'm feeling it clearly at the moment and I feel I won't budge if threatened by others."
December 2009 onwards: I find out God has blessed us with another pregnancy and spend the next 2 months being completely sick and quite detached from church life (another possible blessing, given the tricky interregnum period.) I find I have to take some time out from my course of study, and my focus in life shifts a little, but the amount I am learning academically and spiritually continues to amaze me, as does the support of my coursemates in my pursuit of my calling.
By July 2010: I have managed to submit all 6 assignments for the course which passed well, and have learned so much. My knowledge of myself, Christianity and ministry have all deepened exponentially in such a short space of time, AND we continue to expand as a family - two things which to me go hand in hand, despite the challenges they may present. Who knows what the next few days will hold, let alone the next few months or years, but I feel I am serving God in many ways and will continue to follow where He is calling me. I have another year of study, with another 6 assignments to possibly write, and then a final year on placement before I 'qualify' as a lay minister in the Church of England. Beyond that? Who knows? God Knows....
So I'm doing it here, probably for an audience of very few people, and it may freak out my husband. But, it's time....
It is really weird doing this in retrospect, because as it stands now, I cannot imagine a life path to anything else. It's kind of like becoming a mother - first it was a potential, then a possibility, then an actuality which just felt so right. And because - like Moses, like Jonah, like all those people in history who literally begged God for it not to be them - I spent so long resisting His efforts even to get me into a church again, the enormity of my turnaround is so ironic and amazing it's difficult to put it into words.
Luckily, when I spoke almost 2 years ago to our incumbent Anglican priest, she encouraged me to chart my journey, as well as to enrol on a Diocesan programme of study (which has both challenged and strongly confirmed my calling.) So I have diary entries, computer notes, scribbled notes and quotes on bits of paper, that I can now put together to make a partial picture, at least, of something sometimes practical, sometimes spiritual, but always there, if often intangible!
So, my current thinking is, God has me earmarked for ordained ministry, as well as ministering to my family, and He has always had me picked out for this; everything that has gone before contributes towards it. And I know this - how?! Well, aside from receiving spiritual gifts from the Holy Spirit and feelings of utter completeness and peace in accepting the challenge; aside from the simple understanding that this is what I should be going on to do, writing the words on pages of a book that has already been written; aside from recognising that, academically and practically, I have been blessed with skills which combine to make me feel equipped for the 'job', I don't really 'know' at all! I still doubt, and I still dither, but ultimately - I believe God Knows. He has His plan/s for me, and I just need to pray and grow into them.
When I do go back retrospectively to 2008, after my baptism but before my confirmation in the Anglican faith, there are certain events I strongly recall:
January 2008 - Working away in Norwich - driving around singing 'This Little Light of Mine, I'm Gonna Let It Shine' incessantly, unable to get it out of my head - I didn't have a copy of the song, nor had heard it in years. Staying in a hotel, I opened the Bible up 'randomly' and read a Gospel verse about how you don't light a lamp and put it under a bowl, you put it on a stand, to let it shine. Next hotel, different Bible, different Gospel - same words. At this point I felt that God had something different in store for me than the evaluation work for the government that I was doing...
February 2008 - A Bible study group which left me reeling having experienced the presence of God so strongly within me for the first time. I couldn't tell anyone about this for ages, but I just wanted to sing, laugh and shout. I really did not know what was going on but I was transfixed and transformed by this experience. It was the first time I had told God I would serve Him how he wanted me to serve him, to use me as his vessel, and then & since He poured the fruits of the Holy Spirit upon me. He has taken my willingness to be His humble servant and blessed with me joys, strengths and understanding in the face of adversity.
March 2008: I think the Holy Spirit was with all of us at the New Wine Women's Christian Conference in Harrogate that day. Again, it was the start of a picture coming together for me, an understanding that God has something new in store for me. I had been dreaming about thistles (like I have recently been dreaming about bees), and they were there in the talk about God needing us to come out of our comfort zone to do God's will...
May 2008: As well as Pentecost, it was the 2nd birthday of one of my daughters and both of the girls were absolutely filled that morning in Church, dancing and singing and waving ribbons about. I knew little about Pentecost at that point and for once had let them pick whatever clothes they wanted to wear for Sunday best - and I swear, they both dressed themselves, one all in yellow, the other all in red, matching the ribbons they swang, matching those tongues of fire! Again, I told no one at the time, but I got so much out of the service that day (unusual for me at that stage looking after the 2 girls on my own...)
June 2008: I had taken part in an Alpha course which confirmed all the initial feelings of taking on board what God wants for me. The 'Holy Spirit' away day was wonderful - 'I the Lord of Sea & Sky' in particular spoke to me - but I was aware that I was resisting responding to God's call. This is the part in the story where, for the next year, every so often, usually when I most needed it, our Sophie brings me Jonah and the Whale to read. A year later, she was still doing it - picking it out in the New Wine kids play tent, asking me to read it from my Bible (I do...) - it still crops up even though I am answering the call :-)
August 2008: I finally talk to one of the Readers from Church about everything that has happened during the year. He does not think I am mad. He felt it too when he prayed with me on the Away Day; there is definitely something to take forward. I spend lots of time in contemplation, knowing that there is no urgency, but experiencing such peace that I have shared my knowledge that I am being called to ministry with someone who has experienced something similar. I do start keeping a prayer diary.
September 2008 - Pram Service starts for the academic year & I am one of the new helpers. I don't know how this came about (except I do, really!) but it is amazing how much I am in my comfort zone & love reading the children the Bible story. Although it was not the sort of ministry I envisaged, it works well and I seize the opportunity God has given me.
October 2008 - I finally talk to our priest about the possibilities and opportunities for the future. Rather than sit and laugh at my belief I have a calling to ministry, she is understanding and encouraging. Things feel that they are fitting into place; I am excited! And although the thought of a career in the Church, and the practical steps it will involved, is on my mind, my main feeling is of being filled with God's grace & spirit to be transformed into how/who He wants me to be. My priest feels that enrolling on the Diocesan Certificate course in 2009 will be a good place to start exploring my calling.
November 2008 - "God works out of (human) time, and sometimes subtly, but my role in the huge connected web of the universe is beginning to take on new life now. Not because of me, but because Jesus is in me, or in that part of me which ministers."
January 2009 - "I am just a trainee and I feel confident about my calling but not about my ability to follow it through."
February 2009 - I am more involved in Church life, continuing to help with the Pram Service & also serve on the Women's Group Committee & Baptism Preparation Team. I also start reading from the Bible in Church which is horrendously scary at first, but is now second nature & people often comment on their enjoyment of it (which is lovely but I know it's not their praise that counts.)
March 2009 - "Learning to lead Pram Service & deal with other people's ways is such a huge challenge & I do feel up to the task when God is holding my hand, as He does, but it's still daunting." / "I'm amazed by how RIGHT everything feels. I truly feel that God is taking me by the hand, & is often nearby. And that I've made some 'right' decisions (or I am following my destined path)."
May 2009 - I revisit the Alpha course & this time have more of a function in guiding other believers. I join the ministry team 'Prayer and Praise' group on a Saturday morning and feel completely out of my depth! "Perhaps I need to stop being impatient and see this as preparation time."
June 2009 - I am very much feeling like an enabler in all the intertwined spheres in which I operate, this seems to be my style of leadership. On a Quiet Day with other church members, the image of an oak tree captivates me, and I do feel like a little acorn, which has all its future potential within it from the seed, but it doesn't know it, until over time it puts down roots and begins its growth. I share with the Prayer and Praise team that I intend to start the Diocesan certificate in September.
September 2009 - Beginning the Diocesan Certificate. "I feel the Lord has put me here. It's right, and not more than I can do. But I still resist, & lack faith in myself! This is what I am...wherever it leads. I need to be comfortable realising I don't need to know where it leads (or admit to myself it could lead to leading worship which scares me silly!) Kids, home & family are fine & I would love to rest on my laurels & forget about stretching myself - but I'm determined to start climbing this mountain."
November 2009: During the interregnum at church - "I'm not always filled with ideas about my calling, but despite of (or perhaps because of) the [recent] difficulties I have experienced...I'm feeling it clearly at the moment and I feel I won't budge if threatened by others."
December 2009 onwards: I find out God has blessed us with another pregnancy and spend the next 2 months being completely sick and quite detached from church life (another possible blessing, given the tricky interregnum period.) I find I have to take some time out from my course of study, and my focus in life shifts a little, but the amount I am learning academically and spiritually continues to amaze me, as does the support of my coursemates in my pursuit of my calling.
By July 2010: I have managed to submit all 6 assignments for the course which passed well, and have learned so much. My knowledge of myself, Christianity and ministry have all deepened exponentially in such a short space of time, AND we continue to expand as a family - two things which to me go hand in hand, despite the challenges they may present. Who knows what the next few days will hold, let alone the next few months or years, but I feel I am serving God in many ways and will continue to follow where He is calling me. I have another year of study, with another 6 assignments to possibly write, and then a final year on placement before I 'qualify' as a lay minister in the Church of England. Beyond that? Who knows? God Knows....
Thursday, 20 May 2010
All that is, seen and unseen...
I cleaned the removable plug in our bathroom sink yesterday.
It's like a mirror for my soul....
However much I keep on top of ensuring the bathroom is presentable, I can guarantee that by some point, the grout on the bathroom tiles will be stained and the ceiling will be a bit mildewy. These are lesser challenges that I don't mind being on display.
But the sink plug? *Shudder*
Armed with bleach, anti-bacterial spray, rubber gloves, hot water and a toothbrush, I scrubbed the little blighter free of (most) of the build up of yakky black grime from the muck and spittle that travels down there.
And now the build-up begins again. And I'll ignore it, because it can't be seen, and visitors to my house will only see the exterior presentation of cleanliness. Just like I try to hide others from the real 'me' at times, especially the part that snaps at the children, can just be in a bad mood for no reason at all and the one that feels detached from the world in which we live.
A few weeks ago, we had our loft boarded and a ladder installed. Hooray! It's amazing to have more storage space. But somehow, one of the workmen had a little trouble with the bathroom sink plug. It ended up being pulled out, on display, germ-ridden and filthy, with no disguise. Like God sees me. I knew then it had to be tackled as a priority (and believe me, doing things within a 3-week window for me means they are a priority at the moment!)
It's not that I want to be the sort of person who brings out their halo for the occasional polish, and whose house seems to tidy itself. My house is definitely more 'lived-in' than 'show-home'. And that's probably where I want to get me, too. Because believe me, I was devastated that a visitor to my house viewed that sink plug in all its honesty. But, that's the way things are in our house. So, although I do have roles and responsibilities that preclude putting all of my/self on show, I think I need to let some of me out there more. The human side - which is striving to do better, and gets the occasional clean up, but is still there, in all its impatient, critical, shouty, destructive being. The other day I wrote about mothers discipling their kids in public in a way that upset me - but I'll have done the same in private, even though I think such behaviours are abhorrent.
So, I'm off to prepare tomorrow's spaghetti bolognese, a big batch which will get turned into chilli con carne over the weekend. Idyllic, huh? But while I'm in the kitchen, I'll have to remember to discard the baked beans which have been sitting in the microwave since last night, when I forgot to serve them with dinner; and I'll sit and eat some of the box of chocolates that is currently atop my big cooking pot. I'm generally a little messy, outside and inside. Come and meet me, as I am.
It's like a mirror for my soul....
However much I keep on top of ensuring the bathroom is presentable, I can guarantee that by some point, the grout on the bathroom tiles will be stained and the ceiling will be a bit mildewy. These are lesser challenges that I don't mind being on display.
But the sink plug? *Shudder*
Armed with bleach, anti-bacterial spray, rubber gloves, hot water and a toothbrush, I scrubbed the little blighter free of (most) of the build up of yakky black grime from the muck and spittle that travels down there.
And now the build-up begins again. And I'll ignore it, because it can't be seen, and visitors to my house will only see the exterior presentation of cleanliness. Just like I try to hide others from the real 'me' at times, especially the part that snaps at the children, can just be in a bad mood for no reason at all and the one that feels detached from the world in which we live.
A few weeks ago, we had our loft boarded and a ladder installed. Hooray! It's amazing to have more storage space. But somehow, one of the workmen had a little trouble with the bathroom sink plug. It ended up being pulled out, on display, germ-ridden and filthy, with no disguise. Like God sees me. I knew then it had to be tackled as a priority (and believe me, doing things within a 3-week window for me means they are a priority at the moment!)
It's not that I want to be the sort of person who brings out their halo for the occasional polish, and whose house seems to tidy itself. My house is definitely more 'lived-in' than 'show-home'. And that's probably where I want to get me, too. Because believe me, I was devastated that a visitor to my house viewed that sink plug in all its honesty. But, that's the way things are in our house. So, although I do have roles and responsibilities that preclude putting all of my/self on show, I think I need to let some of me out there more. The human side - which is striving to do better, and gets the occasional clean up, but is still there, in all its impatient, critical, shouty, destructive being. The other day I wrote about mothers discipling their kids in public in a way that upset me - but I'll have done the same in private, even though I think such behaviours are abhorrent.
So, I'm off to prepare tomorrow's spaghetti bolognese, a big batch which will get turned into chilli con carne over the weekend. Idyllic, huh? But while I'm in the kitchen, I'll have to remember to discard the baked beans which have been sitting in the microwave since last night, when I forgot to serve them with dinner; and I'll sit and eat some of the box of chocolates that is currently atop my big cooking pot. I'm generally a little messy, outside and inside. Come and meet me, as I am.
Thursday, 22 April 2010
Little House on the Main Road
My family know what a huge fan I am of the Laura Ingalls Wilder Little House series. I love them for lots of reasons - their sweetness, their simpleness, their faith - and truly hope that one day we will take a road trip en famille and do the Laura tour. (It strikes me that my husband and I were last in the US in 2001, exploring California-Arizona-Utah-Nevada - oh, and Hawaii! - for our honeymoon.)
But for the last couple of days I've been thinking of Ma & her coping strategies.
Now, (in what we know is a sanitised version of life on the prairie), Laura always 'bigs up' Ma and commends her patience, routines, love for her children and constant plodding on in the face of adversity. In the books we see famine, exceptionally harsh winter weather, serious illnesses and more challenges than we in the developed world see in contemporary life. But I've been thinking about what is omitted from the books. We don't see the diaper buckets, the outside privy or the sanitary towels. We don't hear about the hormones in a family of many females, the baby boy whose life was cut short, the severe hunger pains. The challenges Ma faced were more than Laura reveals in her writing. And, possibly, the portrait of Ma realised in the books is a little airbrushed.
But it may not be. Ma may just have kept on in those times and held her family to her because although times were hard, she didn't have any of the (post)modern pressures we face. Dance, sports and music groups, playdates, computers. Worrying about what to choose to feed her children (organic? fair trade? free range?) rather than hoping there is something to eat. Avoiding the breast versus bottle debate. Always facing the potential of being judged rather than supported by other mothers who do things differently. Diverted and distracted by Blackberry or I-Phone. Facing worry, stress or guilt about their role as mother, wife or career-woman. Ma just got on with it, with whatever resources she had, even though she was pushed to the limit. There was no other way.
This is one of the reasons I love those books. Although they may not include everything that happened, they are based around the philosophy of a simpler time where things played out slowly, in relation to the seasons, in relation to what was possible. With a ready-made family of siblings, Ma didn't rely on organising playdates or extracurricular activities - the family could just be. Pa filled the house with music, there was reading and religion, and although the girls followed fashion to an extent, the world was still moving at a slow speed. Yes, we are now more medically advanced and have a 'better' quality of life with more choices for women, but we have lost something along the way, something Little House can remind us of. We can take little snippets and incorporate them into our lives. Eating together as a family. Experiencing the outdoors as often as we can. Not pushing ourselves to be everything to everyone, but helping out where we can, as and when we can. Living for and in the moment. Retaining that sense of adventure that accompanied pioneer life. Not being tied down by a dwelling or possessions.
In the UK we are in the process of electing a Prime Minister and a governing party (or parties!) and I feel detached from the whole process, as if none of the potential candidates understand the way I perceive the world. I know her world is old-fashioned and quaint, has no gun control and tramples over the rights of Amerindians, but at the same time I feel that Laura would understand the things I cherish, and understand why motherhood is my primary focus. God bless you Laura Ingalls!
But for the last couple of days I've been thinking of Ma & her coping strategies.
Now, (in what we know is a sanitised version of life on the prairie), Laura always 'bigs up' Ma and commends her patience, routines, love for her children and constant plodding on in the face of adversity. In the books we see famine, exceptionally harsh winter weather, serious illnesses and more challenges than we in the developed world see in contemporary life. But I've been thinking about what is omitted from the books. We don't see the diaper buckets, the outside privy or the sanitary towels. We don't hear about the hormones in a family of many females, the baby boy whose life was cut short, the severe hunger pains. The challenges Ma faced were more than Laura reveals in her writing. And, possibly, the portrait of Ma realised in the books is a little airbrushed.
But it may not be. Ma may just have kept on in those times and held her family to her because although times were hard, she didn't have any of the (post)modern pressures we face. Dance, sports and music groups, playdates, computers. Worrying about what to choose to feed her children (organic? fair trade? free range?) rather than hoping there is something to eat. Avoiding the breast versus bottle debate. Always facing the potential of being judged rather than supported by other mothers who do things differently. Diverted and distracted by Blackberry or I-Phone. Facing worry, stress or guilt about their role as mother, wife or career-woman. Ma just got on with it, with whatever resources she had, even though she was pushed to the limit. There was no other way.
This is one of the reasons I love those books. Although they may not include everything that happened, they are based around the philosophy of a simpler time where things played out slowly, in relation to the seasons, in relation to what was possible. With a ready-made family of siblings, Ma didn't rely on organising playdates or extracurricular activities - the family could just be. Pa filled the house with music, there was reading and religion, and although the girls followed fashion to an extent, the world was still moving at a slow speed. Yes, we are now more medically advanced and have a 'better' quality of life with more choices for women, but we have lost something along the way, something Little House can remind us of. We can take little snippets and incorporate them into our lives. Eating together as a family. Experiencing the outdoors as often as we can. Not pushing ourselves to be everything to everyone, but helping out where we can, as and when we can. Living for and in the moment. Retaining that sense of adventure that accompanied pioneer life. Not being tied down by a dwelling or possessions.
In the UK we are in the process of electing a Prime Minister and a governing party (or parties!) and I feel detached from the whole process, as if none of the potential candidates understand the way I perceive the world. I know her world is old-fashioned and quaint, has no gun control and tramples over the rights of Amerindians, but at the same time I feel that Laura would understand the things I cherish, and understand why motherhood is my primary focus. God bless you Laura Ingalls!
Tuesday, 23 March 2010
Pregnancy symptom of the month: CRAMPS
I'm almost 20 weeks (and if another person asks me whether or not we are going to try and find out whether we're having a boy or a girl at the DETAILED ANOMALY SCAN, I swear I will scream. Silently, inside, anyway.)
That's not my symptom though. Nor is the realisation that every time I get a 'new' symptom, I remember it from before, and wondered how I could forget the feeling.
Nope, it's CRAMP. How could I forget waking up in the middle of the night with agonising shooting pains in my legs? Ouch, ouch, ouch!
On the plus side, I've only got half the pregnancy to go. And I'm guest posting on the Baby Bunching website today. And later, Imogen & I are off to IKEA to check out sinks, bunkbeds, and the cafe :-) What's not to like? *tentatively flexes calves....*
That's not my symptom though. Nor is the realisation that every time I get a 'new' symptom, I remember it from before, and wondered how I could forget the feeling.
Nope, it's CRAMP. How could I forget waking up in the middle of the night with agonising shooting pains in my legs? Ouch, ouch, ouch!
On the plus side, I've only got half the pregnancy to go. And I'm guest posting on the Baby Bunching website today. And later, Imogen & I are off to IKEA to check out sinks, bunkbeds, and the cafe :-) What's not to like? *tentatively flexes calves....*
Tuesday, 16 March 2010
DO NOT TOUCH MY BUMP!!!!
Listen up. I'm a great believer in my own personal space. Hem me into a corner, and you'll know about it. Come up close to me and put your arm around me, and I'll wriggle out and/or tell you to desist. But those of you assuming that because I have new life inside me I am happy for you to come up and rub my middle? I can't seem to tell you in person - but BACK OFF!!!!!
For a start, most of you are actually touching my belly, which wasn't skinny even in my amphetamine-fuelled university days and, 2 C-sections later, has lost all will to be flat. Having something in my uterus has pushed the belly down, so that when all you freaky women (no men - yet) rush up and put your hand on me, you are just experiencing a lot of undefined muscle (and fat.)
As for the bump, the bump is mine!!! There aren't many of you that rush up to embrace my 2 daughters who live in the world without asking for a cuddle, so why invade MY body privacy AND that of my child in utero. When Baby is born, you won't try and grab him/her out of my arms without checking it's OK with me first. Nobody, but NOBODY whooshes up to me and grabs my breasts, not even in these new low cut maternity tops I'm sporting. It's simply not considered appropriate. But so many of you think the bump is theirs. So next time, ASK FOR PERMISSION.
And FYI, I'm likely to say NO.
For a start, most of you are actually touching my belly, which wasn't skinny even in my amphetamine-fuelled university days and, 2 C-sections later, has lost all will to be flat. Having something in my uterus has pushed the belly down, so that when all you freaky women (no men - yet) rush up and put your hand on me, you are just experiencing a lot of undefined muscle (and fat.)
As for the bump, the bump is mine!!! There aren't many of you that rush up to embrace my 2 daughters who live in the world without asking for a cuddle, so why invade MY body privacy AND that of my child in utero. When Baby is born, you won't try and grab him/her out of my arms without checking it's OK with me first. Nobody, but NOBODY whooshes up to me and grabs my breasts, not even in these new low cut maternity tops I'm sporting. It's simply not considered appropriate. But so many of you think the bump is theirs. So next time, ASK FOR PERMISSION.
And FYI, I'm likely to say NO.
Saturday, 13 March 2010
Believing in the Old Testament
When I was in Sunday School & youth group @ Church, I was incredulous & questioning. Yet, no one turned round to me and said, “Well, perhaps we need to contextualise these books in the Bible for you.” Once I actually started studying theology from an academic perspective, I was amazed at how much dissent there is amongst the ranks, and how interpretive much of Christianity (fundamentalism aside) can be. Genesis as creation myth; Exodus as a retrospective rewriting of the beginnings of Judaism; and so on. (Wait until you get to the part where a bunch of men met together and ‘decided’ what was legimately God’s word, what was apocrypha, and what was left behind.)
To me, most of the Old Testament is about people trying to understand themselves, their world, and their God. The fact that things don’t ‘add up’, that there is stuff in there that transcends the rational and ask us to suspend our disbelief, next to whole chapters that can perhaps be ‘explained’ in terms of natural phenomenon rather than godly acts – these things don’t stop me believing in God and Jesus. Instead I see them as a whole canon of writing acknowledged as the word of the Lord, and I am thankful for being part of a religion at a time when I am actively encouraged to question and deconstruct Biblical texts.
Do I believe that Adam and Eve are real, or representative? Did a supreme being really create the world within a week? Do I really believe that Noah built an ark and populated it with only his family and two of every species? (By the way, check out Naamah’s story which highlights just one of the gaps!) In huge giants? Someone surviving after being swallowed by a sea creature and living in its stomach? How much does it matter? Not everything in there has to be believed in order to be a Christian. The Old Testament contains many positive life lessons. Kids love hearing its stories & they provide a great entry into faith. But their relationship with the Bible needs to be nurtured as they grow.
God transcends science and explanation. S/He encourages that we keep on questioning, whether we have faith or not. It is the responsibility of Christian teachers (and I don’t necessarily mean ministers here) to ensure that children and adults alike are allowed to challenge what they read, and make sense of their own understanding of what is within the Bible without being slapped down. Yes, people may suggest Christianity does this at its own convenience, defending what doesn’t make sense as ‘narrative’ while (arbitrarily, to some) defending selective aspects as (God’s) Truth. But in today’s post-structuralist, post-modern times, when belief in anything isn’t certain, subjectively getting the good that we can out of a library of ancient religious texts can’t be a bad thing if it means it changes our thoughts and actions for the better.
My 5 year old said yesterday that she believed Adam and Eve met as children and grew up together; they were there because God wanted some people to hang out with. She's familiar with the Old Testament, for better and for worse, and not just the traditional favourites (in last night's verses, Jael hammered a tent peg through Sisera's head; not a great image for a camping family.) Unlike I was, Sophie is encouraged to fit her own vision of the world alongside God's, and find her own unique place in it. And I think that's one of the things we need to do to change Christianity for the better.
I know you want to ask about where the New Testament stands in all this, particularly the Crucifixion, the Resurrection, & so on. I'll come back to you on that when I've finished researching & writing my 2000 word essay on the doctrine of the death of Christ (quite a timely one for Easter, don'tcha think?).....
To me, most of the Old Testament is about people trying to understand themselves, their world, and their God. The fact that things don’t ‘add up’, that there is stuff in there that transcends the rational and ask us to suspend our disbelief, next to whole chapters that can perhaps be ‘explained’ in terms of natural phenomenon rather than godly acts – these things don’t stop me believing in God and Jesus. Instead I see them as a whole canon of writing acknowledged as the word of the Lord, and I am thankful for being part of a religion at a time when I am actively encouraged to question and deconstruct Biblical texts.
Do I believe that Adam and Eve are real, or representative? Did a supreme being really create the world within a week? Do I really believe that Noah built an ark and populated it with only his family and two of every species? (By the way, check out Naamah’s story which highlights just one of the gaps!) In huge giants? Someone surviving after being swallowed by a sea creature and living in its stomach? How much does it matter? Not everything in there has to be believed in order to be a Christian. The Old Testament contains many positive life lessons. Kids love hearing its stories & they provide a great entry into faith. But their relationship with the Bible needs to be nurtured as they grow.
God transcends science and explanation. S/He encourages that we keep on questioning, whether we have faith or not. It is the responsibility of Christian teachers (and I don’t necessarily mean ministers here) to ensure that children and adults alike are allowed to challenge what they read, and make sense of their own understanding of what is within the Bible without being slapped down. Yes, people may suggest Christianity does this at its own convenience, defending what doesn’t make sense as ‘narrative’ while (arbitrarily, to some) defending selective aspects as (God’s) Truth. But in today’s post-structuralist, post-modern times, when belief in anything isn’t certain, subjectively getting the good that we can out of a library of ancient religious texts can’t be a bad thing if it means it changes our thoughts and actions for the better.
My 5 year old said yesterday that she believed Adam and Eve met as children and grew up together; they were there because God wanted some people to hang out with. She's familiar with the Old Testament, for better and for worse, and not just the traditional favourites (in last night's verses, Jael hammered a tent peg through Sisera's head; not a great image for a camping family.) Unlike I was, Sophie is encouraged to fit her own vision of the world alongside God's, and find her own unique place in it. And I think that's one of the things we need to do to change Christianity for the better.
I know you want to ask about where the New Testament stands in all this, particularly the Crucifixion, the Resurrection, & so on. I'll come back to you on that when I've finished researching & writing my 2000 word essay on the doctrine of the death of Christ (quite a timely one for Easter, don'tcha think?).....
Friday, 22 January 2010
As for me and my family.....
Well. I've studied social science for ten years of my life, qualified and worked in the field, but since having my first child in October 2004 I've pretty much been a stay at home mother (despite earning enough in one year to pay £3000 off the mortgage, something I just remembered.) This has been wonderful for me, and, I believe, for the family as a whole. (My husband is a self-employed computer programmer & we agreed on this division of labour together - he's also handy around the house and hands-on with the kids, which has been especially useful in my first trimester!)
We don't have a big house, and we mainly go on camping holidays; our main expenditure is probably on cooking ingredients (I kid you not); but it works for the moment. Although many of the conversations I have are about child-rearing, I've met plenty of mothers through baby groups and Church with whom I talk (often online!) about anything and everything - I feel happily stimulated and I make sure I have time for me.
Sophie (aged 5) just started school and Imogen (aged 3) is in pre-school 12 hours per week (which is probably why we thought it was time to have another one!) I also help with our Church's Pram Service for under 5-s, once a fortnight, do some amateur singing, and am enrolled on a Christian theology course. A lot of my time is spent preparing food and keeping house, which are actually things I love doing. Over time, I hope to move from ministering to my family to wider Christian ministry, but I firmly believe that these things are in God's hands. Watch this space....
Thursday, 21 January 2010
Waste disposal
It just had to happen to me. When I am mainly done feeling nauseous until mid-afternoon. Picked my littlest up from pre-school this lunchtime - only to find a waste disposal truck emptying bins - smelly, smelly, smelly bins - next to my car. I could hardly get her strapped in her car seat quick enough. I coughed and retched, coughed and retched. I'm sure the poor workers thought I was over-reacting - but it's automatic, honest!
Did I mention?
The constant headaches, insomnia, nosebleeds. And the fact that the midwife literally wants my blood this afternoon, when getting it from my veins often proves troublesome and I have a tendency to feel faint.
On the plus side, how wonderful it is to enjoy my morning cup of tea again!
On the plus side, how wonderful it is to enjoy my morning cup of tea again!
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