God’s Comfort Blanket

At the moment we’re in the middle of 10 weeks of #doyouknowHim? and as part of that we’re out in Ramsbottom every Saturday morning blessing the community with God’s love.  #doyouknowHim? came from the church in Skipton who did a similar 10 weeks last year and continue to regularly spend time in the community blessing those they meet. 

One thing that Skipton have done that we have chosen not to do is take blankets out in the town, enfold people in them and pray over them the prayer of St Patrick’s breastplate. I’ve been struck by this - as a not-very-often-hugger I’d find it strange but I love the idea - that God’s love enfolds us like a comfort blanket. 

Right now I need some of that comfort blanket - it’s hard work with moving and everything and although I love all we are doing with #doyouknowHim? and it's really exciting, there are times that it has almost broken me (who’d co-lead on something so big whilst preparing to move?). 

Yesterday was one of those days where one last kick sent me into hiding. I was packing, reminiscing, planning, dreaming and I reflected on some news I’d had that brought up some stuff that was tricky.... 

So this morning I began again, went back to my calling, went back to God with breakfast in the garden centre. And as I did I reflected on God as comfort blanket. As I did I reflected on the Bible and God threw out Matthew 11:28 in more ways than one. 

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest”

And so I wrote...... a kind of comfort blanket blessing for me and for all those I know who are finding it tough right now. It’s not easy at the moment with so much uncertainty and change so sometimes we just need to accept the blanket offered and rest: 

God’s Comfort Blanket 

May the arms of God surround you
With the fibres of His warmth
May His comfort blanket enfold you
As you shelter in His wings

May the strength of embrace protect you
As the fleece and wool surround you
May you feel His love, His peace
As you rest in His arms

May you gradually unravel 
As the threads ravel round you
May you begin to let it go
And feel release in his grace. 

May the arms of God surround you,
Protect you and enrobe you 
May His comfort blanket soothe you
As you shelter in His wings 

Give yourself a break

The way I am working at the moment goes against all my instincts. It's like circuit training - going from one task to the other, only pausing as the whistle blows to down tools and move onto the next. Some seasons are like that. Some seasons leave no space for breath, no space for dreaming. 

It's a season of change - of massive change in my own life as I deal with moving 252 miles south east and of trying to stay upright as those I lead now explore what that change means for them. It's a season of excitement and joy as I co-lead on #doyouknowHim? which is one of the most joyous and challenging things I've ever been involved in. It's a season of challenge as I have been facing some of the things that nearly broke me early on in my ministry and learn to walk on with grace and generosity. It's a season that involves a lot of goodbyes and it's well hard at times.  

Thankfully that season, I hope, is just beginning to open up a bit and provide me with space to draw breath, but as I sit here this afternoon and begin to write my sermon for tomorrow (too last minute for me to even contemplate) about Jesus taking time out in the wilderness at the beginning of his ministry I was challenged to pause and question this way of working that goes against my instincts and how I might deal with it better. 

At college I was taught to think of ministry and life as a sink that was sometimes full of water, but was emptied out by those things that pull the plug, but that after the plug is pulled, that you need to put it back in and fill the sink again with what is good and what is fulfilling, ready for when the plug puller returns. After I had gone through a challenging season (affectionately known as the 'summer from hell') a while ago, I developed ways of dealing with when that plug is pulled to fill up, bit by bit to take me to a better place. 

However, the sink that desperately needed filling up nearly broke it was so dry on Thursday afternoon.... and I was reminded that working myself into the ground does not make for the better side of me. 

So what do I do about it? Well two simple things to start......

In the next few weeks I am going to celebrate the joy with gusto - I will post on facebook (probably too much - but block me if you'd like), I will fulfil my 'leaving the enclave' bucket list to the best of my ability and declare each little win from the roof tops. 

I have turned the e-mail off on my phone and, while my addiction is making it hard to wean off, there will come a time when I will stop checking and stop answering straight away.... and what a joy that will be to those around me who get frustrated by e-mail efficiency and for me when I won't need to know everything in the world straight away. I may, just may, also just turn off my phone to find rest.....(perhaps a bit too radical). 

It is sad that so many of us have a habit of working ourselves into the ground before we stop and see, and my call, perhaps for lent, perhaps forever, is to not get to that point again, and to fill up more than leak out.... and it will make for a better me. 

The circuit training has to stop at some point, and while the achievement is great, when physical exercise tires you out, your body knows to rest.... and rest you must. 

"How do you do it said night
How do you wake up and shine?
I take it easy said light, 
One day at a time....."           Lemn Sissay 

"Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest" - Jesus (Matt 11:28)

Now to get on and write that sermon.....

Welcome to Narnia

One of the key points for me in Narnia has always been the lampstand. It represents a world come from to a world revealed. It is a key signpost home and it has links with the past. 

I am blessed to live in a beautiful part of the country where we have our own hill. We don't actually own it, but if you live in Ramsbottom then Holcombe Hill is your hill. It rises above the town, marking a boundary point and an observation point. On top of the hill is Peel Tower that you can see for miles around. When you are coming home, the tower appears, so you know home is near. Living at the foot of the hill occasionally there is an urge to climb the hill. The last time that happened to me was on Easter Monday on 4 hours of sleep. This morning at 6am I had that urge again. 

The thing with climbing the hill is that it takes you above and outside of real life. You can look down, and this morning particularly clearly, even see as far as Manchester. You gradually remove yourself from the world of normality and get time to stop and think. At the top of the hill is a bench. That bench is one of the best placed benches I know with amazing views, yet rarely when I want to sit on it is there anyone else on it - there is always space to sit and be. 

When I go up the hill from my house I tend to go up a cobbled old road. On this road, about half way up, is a lamp post. It's a proper Narnia lamp stand. This morning it signified the removal of myself from all the agitation of everyday life. At that point on the walk I felt I was entering Narnia - an imaginary world detached from the mundane, the irritation, the problems. 

Narnia is not a place where problems disappear. When you think about Narnia it is not a fantasy world of perfection like many other children's books might portray as the problems of the world left are still there, but different. Edmund is still an idiot and makes the wrong choices, Lucy is still an annoying small child, but with great wisdom, Peter is still the annoying older brother, but who wants to look out for his siblings. Susan is still Susan (I never really liked Susan - don't know why). 

Going past the lampstand for me today was not a run away from the problems and difficulties and agitations of normal life but was a step aside from them. A chance to look down and across at them and to say 'God, here you go, help me with this, what's your perspective?'.

When you take some time and sit apart from the world that troubles you it is easier to get some God perspective.

We can't expect to take ourselves into a Narnia of oblivion where all our problems disappear - that place doesn't exist, but in Narnia we might expect to meet Aslan - who in the stories is symbolic of Jesus who takes all of our burdens, helps us to carry them and gives us peace. 

Jesus said this:

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”                                   Matthew 11:28-30 MSG