My stepdad, whose surname I decided to officially take legally last week gave me me a post it card at the weekend with this written on it:
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
when the road your trudging seems all up hill,
when the funds are low and the debts are high,
and you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
when care is pressing you down a bit,
rest if you must, but dont you quit
life is queer with its twists and turns,
as every one of us sometimes learns,
and many a failure turns about,
when he might have won had he stuck it out
dont give up hough the pace seems slow
you may succeed with another blow
success is failure turned inside out
the silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
and you never can tell how close you are
it may be near when it seems so far
so stick to the fight when your hardest hit
its when things seem worst
that you must not quit
i was up until an ungodly hour. 6am to be precise.
however I think I had what could be a somewhat spiritual night.
By the time it got to 5 am, I decided to sprawl out on my bed with my ipod, and bible.
And I read.
I read a few psalms. I read some of Romans. I read some of Isaiah.
You know, most of the time, at the moment, I struggle to work out where God is. What He is doing, what He is playing at. Why He isnt speaking to me. Why it dosnt feel like He is helping me out of this great big black hole.
But then sometimes, just sometimes I feel this huge overwhelming sense of love.
Love from Him. Love from Him himself and from Him through other people.
Two amazingly powerful things have made me think while I was away. On the Saturday night, having watched a particular heavy episode of House of all things, I broke down. I did slip out of the room saying I needed to smoke before I did. So that no one saw me. As soon as my body hit the fresh air outside , that was it. The tears came.
I thought I was alone in all ways. But I wasnt, again in all ways.
Mrs Host (I shall call them Mr and Mrs Host) came out, with a scarf which she wrapped round me, and then she just held me. Hugged me and held me. Then she took my hands, and for 15 minutes, outside, in the dark, cold back garden we stood.
I am bowled over by their grace, love, kindness, acceptance of me and who I am.
On Sunday we went to church, and I couldnt take communion for all the reasons that people generally dont. So I sat quietly, working hard or not letting the tears well up, until the congregation started singing a song. A aong that goes "Brother Sister, let me serve, let me be as Christ to you".
It goes on to say ... "I will hold the Christ-light for you In the night time of your fear. I will hold my hand out to you Speak the peace you long to hear. I will weep when you are weeping When you laugh I’ll laugh with you. I will share your joy and sorrow Till we’ve seen this journey through."
So , again I find myself sitting with tears rolling down my face. I have my head down, hoping no one notices ... ahem
Mr Host just puts his hand on my shoulder, and Mrs Hosts hands find mine, and she just sits. With me. Hand Holding.
My God, By quiet, unassuming love and care, I was comforted. Hugely.
I know Jesus is my comforter too, even though, sometimes it really dosnt feel like it.
Not totally sure where I was going with this post now, so I will be back with more later ...
laid on my bed for half an hour this afternoon, looking at the ceiling. Had some chilled out Moby playing in the lounge, so I could hear its tune.
And I imagined seeing Jesus face.
No particular vision, but just this indescribable face. I have no set idea on how or what He looked like (though I dont think He had blue eyes and long blonde hair!!)
Anyway, so I imagined seeing His face, looking down.
Looking at me. Looking at me laying there in the middle of the bed.
I wandered what his expressions would be. What his eyes would be saying. How He would look.
Would He be sad? Let down? Disappointed?
I wander what He would be looking like, and feeling seeing me.
thank you for your replies, emails and responses and prayers folks.
I just feel incredibly sad. For alot of things.
I have reread Rehemas letter several times today. She wrote it on 4th November 07. They often take several months to get through and to my door.
The letter from Compassion head office was send on the 4th January 08.
How so much can change.
We heard today from our friends who are missionaries out in Africa with YWAM. They are in Arua, and ok , however nervous of the impact of the Kenyan rioting . They are already feeling the effects of aid and stuff not gettig through to them, their water and electricity supplies have gone to one hour a day and as you can imagine are extremely apprehensive about it all.
Please continue to keep it all in your thoughts.
I heard about an hour ago, an online friend whom has been an enormous encouragement to me passed away at the end of the week. He has been battling bravely with cancer, but it over came him. He is at peace now, I know that for sure, but still so sad.
so, My mum came round for coffee this afternoon, bringing the mail that still goes to her house with her. A couple of bills, you know the kind of thing.
Plus a letter with a stamp on that I KNEW was bringing me a letter from the little girl I havw recieved letters from for the last 6 years.
This 9 year old girl has been sending me letters for the last five years. Ok, so the staff workers wrote them to begin with, and she scribbled on them. Then she started drawing pictures. Then colouring, then over the years her letters started to form, she started signing her name.
Today the letter I got was written by her. Perfectly formed letters, and neatly written too. At the back, stapled to her letter was the english translation.
I was over the moon. Excited and thrilled. This little girl I have a picture of in my lounge, in a frame, next to my mum and dad. This little girl I get the report cards to, update photos for, and have the honour of knowing how she is. This little girl has blessed me hugely in ways she will never know, and the whole story of how I became her sponser is another blog in itself. This little girl has grown up, from being three to now 9, and I have followed and seen her progress all the way through.
Anyway, this little girl is called Rehema. She is precious, and beautiful.
She lives in unthinkable poverty, more than we can imagine. Her older sister passed away a few years ago from Aids. Her father isnt at home, but is alive, and she has her mother. She lives in a mud hut.
She is alive though, being educated, clothed, fed and loved.
Anyway, so I was over the moon.
Then I opened the other letter, and it made me cry.
This one was from the head office.
Rehema lives in Kenya, and is part of a Compassion Project. Part of one of the 23 projects that have been closed, and are at the epicentre of the voilence and rioting that is happening out there.
She is right in the middle of it.
And they have been unable to account for everyone. People have died, people have fleed. Houses have been burnt down, and much much more.
And who knows where Rehema and her family are.
Compassion Kenya are doing everything in their will to support, relocate, love, and provide aid for those victims of this, but still the situation out there is unsafe, and volatile.
The impact on the projects, staff, families cannot be fully established due to projects being closed, for christmas and other reasons.
Please pray or keep in your thoughts. For her family For Compassion and Compassion Kenya For their staff for the people of Kenya and for Peace
sorry things have been so quiet. things have been pretty hard going. still here though ...
and thank you for the folk who have emailed to tell me some of the links on the left hand side were broken.
I took the opportunity of refreshing the ones I wanted to, deleting a few, and more importantly adding a few. A couple I have been promising to put up for months, so finally, I have and will draw attention to them and the others that are there starting with ...
*Peterson Toscano, Musings of. From his site he is "An ex-gay survivor and -- Creator of Doin' Time in the Homo No Mo Halfway House" and "I am a theatrical, performance, artist, a very queer and quirky Quaker, and an ex-gay survivor. I've lived on four continents in my life and currently live in North America in Connecticut"
For more, the link to his blog is somewhere on the left hand side. I met him several times at Greenbelt with Auntie Doris (whose blog is also linked on the left hand side) and he is a great guy.
*Mind Space is the blog of Dean Ayres. A random guy I met through Flickr, who is involved with various things and was presiding at the amazing communion service I attended at Greenbelt, and blogged about lots too ... He is a member of the Grace community in Ealing, London, is a uni chaplain dude, and his blog is cool, so go check that out too if you have some spare time ... This is how he describes Mind Space " Dean Ayres' blog about faith, politics, art, photography, travel, and anything else that piques his interest."
*NAPAC - National Association for People Abused in Childhood. Might not be of interest for everyone, but an organization I have become more and more involved in over the last 3 months or so. They have a great site, lots of information, and a wonderful forum for anyone who feels it might be of use to them. Be aware the forum and website deals with a topic of sensitive nature, and again might not be for everyone.. But your more than welcome to go take a look.
*Post Secret. From their site "PostSecret is an ongoing community art project where people mail in their secrets anonymously on one side of a homemade postcard"
Enough said, you might have heard of it, might not have, worth a look though
* I have also added St Pixels, Church of the Internet, a great site, with discussions boards and much more. Worth a look
*Greenbelt From their site "Greenbelt is an independent Christian charity working to express love, creativity and justice in the arts and contemporary culture in the light of the Christian gospel". They hold an annual event each year which attracts thousands and thousands, and many more, and definitely worth a look at!
*Generous, Ship of Fools and Compassion are all still there as links, and still things I am involved with / support. Feel free to go take a look or ask any questions ...
*Also go read Cartoon Church. Link at the top. Dave Walker. Funny Guy. Draws Cartoons. Met him @ Greenbelt, and then again at Holy Joes quite recently (which was a great night dave) ... He also owns this blog site!!
Go check out his stuff
*Also Chelley, Auntie Doris, Pants and Hope Eternal still blog away, so go read what they have to say
*REV TC is on a blog break for the time being, but I like what he has to say, know him and think he is a very cool guy who has inspired me in lots of ways which he probably does not even know about, so leaving his link there for people to back read, and with the hope he might find some blogging inspiration soon.
Thinks thats them all. Have one more to add, but it wont seem to work right now, so once i have worked out why, it will appear and i will draw attention to it
Have fun if you get the chance to look at any of them
the below post does not mean I am sitting here like a wreck.
Thank you peoples for the replies to my below blog, both the comments on here and the emails. Really appreciated alot.
I just want to say to no one in particular that even though I am now choosing to write about this, it does not mean I am sat here like a wreck. Not right now anyway ; )
Life gets tough. It is tough. But I am a fighter. Some days I dont fight the fight quite as well as others, but you know, when I came to a turning point in my life, at 16, just as I left school with not many qualifications, I made a decision. To work hard, to work really hard. And that is what I have done, I have worked hard, to do the things I have wanted to do, and to get to where I am. To get qualifications and on the whole be proud of some of the things I have achieved.
Yes, depression can rule peoples lives, and sometimes it does seem to get on top of me, and take over, but I have spent my life time, or as long as I can remember not wanting this to define me.
Not allowing it to define who I am. If that makes sense.
I am still a person.
And, even with depression I am a person who can have fun, who can enjoy, who can work a job
I am still a person who can have wonderful days like today, shopping, eating, having face masks and chilling.
so, you can say what you like, but it isnt going to stop me saying what I like now.
A bit of a weird one liner start for this post I guess, but it might become more clear as I ramble on through this post.
I started blog life, nearly two years, starting off with another blog, and then coming on to wibsite almost a year ago.
Jan 06 I think I came over here. Ands it cool. Thank you for letting me join this community and have the space to write/blog/chat etc.
When I first started blogging, in my mind I had to decide what the purpose was for me. Some people I know blog about hugely deeply spiritual things, some people blog their art, write about their holidays, are personal, not personal. It all varies. For me, it quickly became clear, and someone else has said this in passing, that I needed an outlet. A writing outlet, a place to put my thoughts, to say what I was thinking, to get it all down in words.
Not many people know this, and sometimes it wont come across in my posts well, but I love writing. I write alot. I write thoughts, poems, meditation. So, I wanted somewhere I could write.
I wanted somewhere, where the stuff I wrote was actually read. I write everything I write on this blog and the stuff on the old one with the intention and knowingness that someone might read it.
When I first started writing, the only people who knew my blog was mine were people I knew from online. Friends I have met from forums etc. Then reality started to merge with online life. More and more people started reading, and a couple of people from real life wanted to know my site. I dont hide the fact I blog, I have no reason to, but I also dont advertise it. I dont shout it out everywhere I go, so when people ask I give them the address, if they dont, I dont tell them.
Anyway, so more and more people started to read. People from work, life and the community I was living in and serving. A couple of the people who read this (or did do, no idea if you still do) knew me well. Were part of my house group. And that was fine.
What wasnt fine was opening myself up so totally, that people knew about an aspect of my life that I tried so hard to hard, for so long. Tried to hard to keep behind closed doors. Worked hard on not letting anyone know.
That meant I was unable to blog. I couldnt tell people in reality what was happening, and I couldnt write about it.
And then came the day, when with the support of a friend, I sat in front of a group of close people, in a home group, and told them. Told them about the depression.
The depression that has been part of my life for so long, but that has come and gone many times. That had been and gone, and then came back while I was in their community. Why is it a big deal? Maybe it isnt. Maybe to some it isnt, but you, sometimes you just never know what people are going to say do you.
How would this community feel about having a youth worker who was a depressive. How would people look at me, how would their thoughts and thinking about me change?
Its easy to say it wouldnt, but you know, it so easily could have done. And I never wanted to run the risk of people thinking I was incapable, unable, and shouldnt be in my job. I loved my work to pieces, I loved the people around me. What I didnt and dont love is the life behind closed doors sometimes.
When I sat with my group of people and told them about the depression I felt sick, but I was totally blessed by peoples responses. They were all totally amazing, continued to be totally amazing, and still are totally amazing.
Its easy to say "its only depression" and " in this day and age there is no stigma".
But actually there is probably more stigma attached to it than people realise.
I was so scared of what other people would say I could never say what I wanted to ...
anyway, long kind of rambling post I supposed, but the point of this is to come out into blog world and say " I live with depression"
I have lived with depression since an early teenager, maybe I always will, who knows.
I know some of you who dont know this might be surprised. I had a good friend laugh at me once when I told her, because she just could not accept that behind my smile and loud personality, I could be ill with something like that.
Anyway, totally lost focus now so i will ssshh for a little while, and come back when I have regained thought once more
:)
ATTRACTION, FLIRTATION, EUPHORIA, DOUBT, THE TRUTH
(OR: you love me to !)
...
you feel fizzy. You feel funny. You dont want to stop and breathe. You dont want to think. You just want to hold on to this unbelievable rush.
You tell yourself, I coudl learn to live with this feeling. You tell yourself, this love, I wont question. This love, I will simply enjoy.
i think everyone has given up reading this blog, say hi if your all still out there!
quick update: I have moved. Have started the new job.
Stepdad is very ill, again. If your there praying sort, prayers would be appreciated. If your not, thoughts would do. Thankyou.
(side note: As much as the decision to leave the big city and move closer to my parents was a hard one to make (really hard) I am so thankful and pleased that I am able to be close to my family, and a stone throw away from them in an emergency)
Thanks to everyone who is and has been supporting me. Your all stars.
happy ending by Mika.
The video is surreal, but I love it. The song is great, and the lyrics, well, I find touching.
This is the way you left me,
I'm not pretending.
No hope, no love, no glory,
No Happy Ending.
This is the way that we love,
Like it's forever.
Then live the rest of our life,
But not together.
Wake up in the morning, stumble on my life
Can't get no love without sacrifice
If anything should happen, I guess I wish you well
A little bit of heaven, but a little bit of hell
This is the hardest story that I've ever told
No hope, or love, or glory
Happy endings gone forever more
I feel as if I feel as if I'm wastin'
And I'm wastin' everyday
This is the way you left me,
I'm not pretending.
No hope, no love, no glory,
No Happy Ending.
This is the way that we love,
Like it's forever.
Then live the rest of our life,
But not together.
2 o'clock in the morning, something's on my mind
Can't get no rest; keep walkin' around
If I pretend that nothin' ever went wrong, I can get to my sleep
I can think that we just carried on
This is the hardest story that I've ever told
No hope, or love, or glory
Happy endings gone forever more
I feel as if I feel as if I'm wastin'
And I'm wastin' everyday
This is the way you left me,
I'm not pretending.
No hope, no love, no glory,
No Happy Ending.
This is the way that we love,
Like it's forever.
Then live the rest of our life,
But not together.
So, what was the confession about?
To be totally honest, I am not totally sure what it was about for other people, BUT for me, it was about being in a circle with a group of people and saying sorry. It was about being in front of God, in a field, under the sun and saying sorry. It was about being forgiven. It was also about forgiving. For me it wasn’t about the group of people just either. It was wide scale. Life scale. Big scale.
(to rewind and go on tangent for a little moment: a few years ago I went to a “charismatic conference”. Probably wont go again. I t served its purpose well for hanging out with my church family and friends, drinking wine and generally slobbing, but the meetings and ministry wasn’t my thing I guess. I remember during the week though, spending lots of time in “intense” prayer with a couple of random folk who were running the prayer shed. Yeah, it was good to go and pray, and it was good to let God do what He wanted, but certain elements of it felt forced. I guess what I am trying to say is that I think the people praying for me, and the stuff they were praying for was more for them then it was I? If that makes sense … so forgiveness, yeah it was an issue, but I think it was more important for them that I forgive then for me at the time. I can hear a few of you going, yeah, right whatever. And I have to admit, I walked away from this prayer thing thinking, you know I am letting God down? Am I even a Christian, I have all these people praying over me, in tongues and spirit, and all that stuff , but still it wasn’t happening for me. However hard I closed my eyes, however hard I tried to cry whilst they were saying “let the tears come” it just didn’t happen. I felt nothing. N – O – T- H- I= - N –G . Was I normal? )
Thing is, bearing in mind the above tangent in brackets is that I really think God was really working at Greenbelt. Sitting in a field. Quietly. No big fan fare. No big jumping up and down and shouting out and about. No big falling on the floors and tongues, or anything else. Just quietly, sitting with a group of rather lovely unassuming strangers and He was working. And He was working big time on forgiving me, loving me, and helping me to sit and think, maybe, just maybe I can forgive. I can forgive.
So, at Greenbelt, 2007 I forgave.
So to some of you this might seem like I making a mountain out of a mole hill, and now isn’t the right time to go into , if there is ever a right time, to go into what it was I was being forgiven for, and what I was forgiving. But it happened. And for the first time, in probably a long time, if not for the first time full stop, I think I just felt Gods awesomeness. I was just overawed, but again, in no big loud, shouty, clappy way, just in a quiet , chilled cool way. Just sitting on the grass, it was good.
I really need to talk about the communion itself, seeing as that was what this was, a communion service didn’t I …
Still just sitting on the grass, all cool and calm, the communion part began.
Each member of our group got given a red piece of paper and a white piece and as we reflected and thought about the communion, and dean lead the service, breaking bread we were encouraged to pass bread around our circle to one another. And as we did that, we would say the little piece of writing on our sheets. As we went round the circle, each and everyone on of those pieces were different. So as we shared and broke bread with one another, we were also breaking bread with those who long for justice, those who long to live free from fear
As we went around the circle we shared bread with one another but also with who have faith for a miracle, who long for companionship, who toil and strive towards a better future. There were a few more but I have picked those out as ones that really touched me. In fact the whole idea of breaking bread with our group, remember Jesus and the sacrifice He made, and remembering and sharing with others we don’t know, in situations we don’t know. It was powerful.
Then came the wine. In the same format.
We shared wine with one another, but we also as the wine went around the circle, out loud shared wine with …who have seen loved ones die, who have seen to much blood flow.
Well, this finished me I think, in terms of the trying to stay dry eyed and everything else. So on went the sun glasses (thankfully it was very hot, so they looked good, and lots of other people had them on too, and hopefully no one in my circle noticed that the tears came. I just put my head on my knees, hoping to look like I was just reflecting. Again, all very chilled, quiet, no big fanfare. But how how striking for me.
To share in wine remembering Jesus with a group of people who will never know me, and who will never know how poignant it was to be thinking of those who have seen too much blood flow, and loved ones die.
We also shared this wine with those who longed for someone to dry their tears, who desire to be accepted and appreciated, who find the pressure of life too much.
My God, I have never experienced or been involved in anything so low key, chilled out, but yet so powerful and amazing.
Its late, and I have more to write on this, so if your not getting bored of this yet, then you can await for Part 4 to come along …
I promised a few more thoughts, a while ago, but with the move and everything going manic its taken a while. Plus every time I sit down to write about this, the words never seem to come, and I find myself debating what I actually want to write, and how to get it into type.
I had gone to GB 07 with relaxation being the plan. I was desperate for some time out. For some space. For something other than stress, sadness, and general crap. I knew I would have to take it easy, and as we arrived, and I knew I was missing the first thing I had planned to go to, I thought sod it. No offense to the lovely people I wanted to catch up with. But we were stuck in a Q. Needed our tents up before dark, and well hey, the people I needed to see, I would do in the course of the weekend. So I stopped stressing, and didn't stress for the entire weekend. It set my weekend up perfectly to be one of coffee, chat and chilling.
I don't think I had gone with an expectation of receiving from God either to be honest. I don't think I had gone with an expectation of much other than forcing myself to take it easy, which in the end didn't really need forcing, and I enjoyed it!
Anyway, on the Saturday there was some called "Communion by Number - the road to Emmaus" by the Grace Community who meet in Ealing, London. Since being in London, I have been meaningn to go to one of their get togethers, and know people who do, and stuff. Anyway, being in touch with the guy leading the service through flickr made me think I might head to it, while at Greenbelt. Didn't really know what to expect.
The sun was out, and it was hot. The hottest day of the weekend, there was no give up in the scorching sun. As I headed to the arena where the service was taking place, there were lots and lots of wonderful multicoloured windmills
grace windmill
anyway, there were lots, and lots, scattered all around the field, and most of them were spinning, there was a gentle breeze making them move. I actually was quite captivated by them. There were not huge crowds in the field, but still the site of all these windmills. Strange moving.
As I went into the field, people were in groups of 6 to 8, around a windmill, and being on my own it was my job to announce my self in a group. I almost didnt, and left, but in the end thought how silly if i missed out because I wouldnt join a group. So I did. And they were lovely. I just joined them, and sat.
The service began, and using the big screen, and numbers to represent the journey the first thing we did was reflect on our road over the last year. We then had a minute to simply share it with the person next to us. Being on my own, with a total stranger for me meant I could be totally honest. I could reflect on the road I have been over the last year and verbalise it with someone, who didnt pry or nose, but just accepted. I listened to her road too.
The service then went on, very simply, and we got on to confession. I was nominated leader for this part, and it was me who had to read these words
"before God, with the people of God, I confess to my brokeness, to the ways I wound my life, and the lives of others and the life of the world"
the group then replied with,
"may God forgive you, Christ Renew you, and the spirit enable you to grow in love"
then it was reversed. so the group said it to me, and i replied to them.
it choked me. While i was saying my bit, I had to stop myself from getting teary eyed.
I dont know what came over me, or I guess I do, but wasnt expecting it. In the middle of a field with random strangers, the sun beating down, coloured windmills floating, to have a God moment. To have a moment of completely feeling broken and empty. To reflect on the last year of life, and how that has got me to this point. But as soon as the brokeness came, it went, and replaced was a hope. Sitting in this beautiful field, with some lovely people, with Gods creation all around, you could see the hills, you could see and feel the sun, the people walking by, everything, i dont know, i just felt loved, and felt hope, in a way i dont think i can explain, but just felt.
This is before the communion part of the service began, and so I think that has to be Part 3, so this is going to be an installment story ...
Greenbelt 2007 - stunning.
In a different way to usual.
This year, before arriving, in my head I had to prepare myself to not be running round like a blue arsed fly trying to get to everything. (Not that I usually do anyway) ... but I got into my head that this weekend HAD to be relaxing. I desperately needed it to be.
Anyway, apart from running around from one place to another for coffee or tea, or water with people, I really didnt do much. And it was great.
Heaven in the Ordinary?
The Greenbelt theme, and for me, thats what it felt like. Heaven in the very ordinary things, like sleeping, eating, drinking and seeing people.
I slept when I wanted to. Got up when I wanted to. Caught up with many amazing, inspiring and awesome friends. Had lots of coffee, and good food. Good company. Good sun. Beautiful.
Thank you to the people who helped me out with my GB ticket. You know who you are, and I am deeply touched and thankful for that.
more to come on the few things I did attend, but these are my first few thoughts on the weekend.Greenbelt
ok, so i went to the parents for a long weekend ...
i took my make up with me, as you do. Or as I do ...
and then, as you DONT do, I left it.
EEK
now because I have been living as a hermit for the last three days it wasnt a problem, but when I went to find it this morning before facing the world and friends for lunch, it wasnt there. PROBLEM!
So ... do I go out and buy some basic make up? Or try and go without ...
the only thing is, I am camping at the weekend, so I said to mum on phone, maybe I could go spend 20 quid on some eyeliner, etc ... (i have spare eyeshadows and stuff here) or do i go without!?!
bearing in mind i have to go and do some work this week for a friend, and having some people round for dinner, and and and ....
I didn't have my camera with me, or I did, but not the memory card , helpful, and saw the most amazing rainbow. Ever been so captivated by something? Well I was, by a rainbow. Never thought it would happen, but it did.
So, to go back to the beginning, I had a stressful trip yesterday, all the trains out of my back and beyond home town were canceled. Replacement buses were late and took forever when they did get here. By the time I got on the train back to London, I was tired and not hugely happy. Its been a rough few days, in fact, a rough few months all round.
I finally sat on the train and it all hit me, and I had to stop myself bursting into tears! Sad I know. I managed it anyway. Put the ipod on, stared out of the window and day dreamed. Thought back to my job which I no longer work, the last two years, life in the city, the dog dying, the assault a few weeks ago, dad being ill, and other stuff.
Thought about my faith journey, and where I stood right now with Jesus. It wasnt looking great!
Anyway, outside , the sky was black, the clouds were thick and the rain was coming down. Hardly inspiring is it.
Then suddenly I had a spiritual moment, eeek!
I saw a rainbow. The most vibrant, colourful, beautiful rainbow. I could see from one end to the other (as much as you can with a rainbow) and it was stunning.
What was more stunning was the fact it seemed to go over the black clouds ... this rainbow, electrifying in colour and shape covered the dark black thick clouds.
Ever so slowly (well, in 5 mins or so) the black clouds then started to give way to really blue sky.
I have to say, I have just never seen anything like it.
I was listening to a song on my Ipod, some of the lyrics go like this :
My heart is restless in me
My wings are all worn out
I'm walking in the wilderness
And I cannot get out
I need You, Oh, I need You
Blessed Savior
(the middle bit which i am not typing)
My bed is soaked with sadness
My sadness has no end
A downward spiral of despair
That I keep falling in
I need You, Oh, I need You
To You my soul shall fly
I need You, Oh, I need You
It all just fitted, the words were so true for me. And as I sat on the train and watched this rainbow, and remembered that God in it all, I thought , actually I cant do this with out Him. To be all mushy, I just cant.
All the thoughts in my head about walking away, saying sod it to the idea of believing in a Saviour, everything, I just cant do it. And this rainbow thing reminded me, that in amongst everything that is happening, in amongst the move and the new move I will be making again very soon, and the trauma, and the sick, and the everything God is around.
Nearly 11 years ago our family home got invaded by the arrival of what we affectionately called a rat on a stick.
My parents decided to bring a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel thing into our house hold, and it was never the same.
A gorgeous dog, small, but with character and such a chilled out personality. She became a friend, and part of the family. (Yes I know to some of you reading this you will go, "she was only a dog", but I dont care).
My dog has seen me through the last 11 years, she has been there to play in the good times, and there to cuddle in the bad. She used to sense if something was wrong and would cuddle up to you and just be.
She pined when I moved away, and would run around the house looking for me when I had been home for a weekend and then gone again. She would sit in the window at 6 pm waiting for mum to come home from work.
She was a dog, but she was part of our family. And she is gone now.
She was poorly, and it was cruel to let her keep going. She was sedated this morning, but it didnt do enough to let her sleep, she was in pain. The vet came a few hours ago. It was the right thing to do.
But I will miss her.
Rest in Peace Bella babes, and thank you for being such an amazing little thing .
ok, so this is one of the pictures taken, while away running a group trip to one of the big youth events. I think, for a few moments I lost my mind as I allowed three young persons of the male variety lose on my hair with hot irons, spray and anything else they could find. Everyone thought it was hilarious
Below is also proof and evidence I can now make instant custard HURRRRAH AND in a field too ...!
there will be no more pictures of this camping trip to come so make the most of what you got :)
so, one day i was haveing a chat with some of the dedicated adults I took away on camp with me. And then they went off, so I took the chance of no YP around to have a kip, where I was. Then I awoke, to find four teenagers staring down at me, one with a camera. He then kindly emailed me the photo saying he wished to see it appear on my blog, so here is the all flattering picture of Dreamer with bed head asleep half in and half out her tent.
There are two other pictures to come, but they need editing first, one which proves I can now make perfect custard, even on a camp stove, and the other which proves how totally barking I am allowing three teenage boys loose on my hair with hot irons and hairspray ....
The Hopeful Happenings of Horatio Harumph 
0
Permalink
