Mothering Sunday Prayer

I wrote this prayer to use during our Mothering Sunday service. Mothering Sunday is both a celebration and a time of sorrow. We feel both of these emotions with all of our senses: in all we see, hear, smell, touch and taste. A prayer of journeys and of blessing.

Loving God, you are both Father and Mother to us. We come to you today all on different parts of our journey. Some of us are searching, some of us are feeling lost, some of us are hurting, some of us are feeling loved. Wherever we are and whatever we feel we come to you as our parent – the one who understands, and knows and walks with us.

As we journey with you today we hear the sounds of joy. As families meet together and celebrate being family together. As children tell their mothers how beautifully wonderful they are and as mothers tell their children how loved they are.

We also hear the sounds of mourning. We pray for those for whom this Mothering Sunday is a reminder of loss. A reminder that their Mum is not with them any more. We pray for peace. We pray for comfort. We pray that you might pick them up and carry them today.

As we journey with you today we taste the sweetness of new life. We thank you for the children in our lives. The way they smile, the way they brighten our lives. Help us to welcome children as part of our family, loving them unconditionally as you love them.

We also taste the bitterness that this day brings. For those who have not been able to have children we know that today can be a sorrowful and painful reminder of that. We pray for those people who have desperately wanted to be parents and have not been able to be. We pray that you might bring some sweetness into their lives through the blessings of others. We pray for comfort. We pray that you might pick them up and carry them today.

As we journey with you today we see the beauty in family life. We see how you have blessed us and cared for us. We remember where you have taken us and we look forward to where you are taking us next. Help us to continue to trust you as the future unfurls before our eyes.

We also remember that there are people for whom the future is not what they expected to see. We pray for those who have lost a child – who were looking forward with joy only to have that dream shattered. We pray for peace. We pray for comfort. We pray that you might pick them up and carry them today.

As we journey with you today we remember the smells of home. The smell of freshly baked cake, a delicious meal and the familiar. We thank you for what you have provided for us.

We also remember that not everyone has enough, that not everyone can experience the smells of home. We pray for those children who have no home, who have no one they can call Mum or Dad and who need caring for. We pray for those who do not have enough food or money. We pray that you will provide for them. We pray that you will pick them up and carry them today.

As we journey today we reach out our hands to you. We know that where we put our hand in your hand we can rely on your guidance, your love, your arms that carry us when life is hard.

We also remember those we love who have not reached out their hands to you or have let go, gone their own way. Our children who do not know you, our parents, our partners, our siblings, our wider families and the people we care about deeply. We pray that they may reach out to you, take your hand and choose to follow you.

Loving God, you are both Father and Mother to us. We come to you today all on different parts of our journey. Some of us are searching, some of us are feeling lost, some of us are hurting, some of us are feeling loved. Wherever we are and whatever we feel we come to you as our parent – the one who understands and knows and walks with us. 

I'm Awkward

I'm awkward. 

There you go, I said it. 

I'm not awkward in a bad way (I think anyway), I'm awkward in the way that people don't know how to deal with me. I would rather stand on the edge of the crowd watching people and joining in when I feel I want to (that's not because I'm shy, I'm most definitely not shy, but because I'm really not that into small talk). I don't hug (I just don't, there is nothing wrong with that?), I avoid holding hands at certain points in church (why do people make you do that?), I don't clap (it hurts, why would you deliberately hurt yourself?), I sometimes come across as a bit.... well.... odd. 

I'm awkward. 

I'm awkward because I am one of those people who finds stuff difficult to engage with unless I am involved, hands on. I am a dreaded kinesthetic learner, perhaps leaning a bit on the visual, but most definitely kinesthetic. I don't engage with stuff unless I'm involved in the leading or involved in the doing. I can't help it..... it's just the way I am. 

I'm awkward.

I'm awkward when it comes to worship events. I have a had a lot of people say to me recently - that was really good and I'm a bit mmmm...... yeah, whatever you say. I'm the one that sits at the back looking really grumpy, a bit disengaged, fiddling with my phone, flicking through my Bible. 

It's not because I don't want to be there (although sometimes I don't). It's not because I don't love church (I do, I do, I do). It's not because I don't enjoy worshipping God...... it's because I am sick of the default position of being passive - being a passenger on a ship with the leader as the Captain telling me where I am going..... 

I want to be hands on. I want to be liberated, empowered, excited, energised. For me, sitting back, words kind of there, doesn't do it for me. I get frustrated that too many people love the passive so much that I have to lead in a way that assumes a passive congregation. I get frustrated that too many people love being the captain so much they assume the congregation don't want to get involved. I get frustrated that when you let the passengers be part of the crew nobody quite knows what to do. 

What frustrates me most, however, is that this mono-voiced way of being church is the norm, the expected, the default.

I've been reading Multi-Voiced Church by Stuart and Sian Murray Williams. They speak about how when there has been a renewal in the church it has often involved the voices of the many, that although there is a place for one voice, there is more of a place for many voices. Where all are seen as equal and able to participate this enriches the worship experience, enables and empowers the church and make us more confident in our faith. 

So perhaps I'm not awkward, perhaps I'm just thirsty for change. Perhaps Kinesthetic learners need to be taken seriously and not just seen as the ones who find it difficult to engage. Perhaps we need to take seriously the need to change our default settings to new and empowering ones. I don't want to be Times New Roman any more. 

"This is what I mean, my friends. When you meet for worship, one person has a hymn, another a teaching, another a revelation from God, another a message in strange tongues, and still another the explanation of what is said. Everything must be of help to the church". 1 Corinthians 14:26

My Love-Hate Relationship

I love facebook. It is a great way of keeping in touch with people who I haven't seen for a long time. Living alone, it keeps me company. I like expressing my opinions, talking about what I am up to. engaging with the world. Facebook enables me to make contact with more people much more quickly and with great efficiency. 

I hate facebook. I know too much about people's lives. I once deleted someone because he kept putting pictures of his new girlfriend in states of undress on his page (why would you do that?). Some people have too many opinions (I once deleted someone because she commented on everything I wrote and nothing she ever said made sense and she didn't actually KNOW me). Some people are just irritating. 

I love facebook. It's in facebook I have managed to make connections with people I would otherwise have lost touch with. I know much more of what my family and close friends are up to and we can share photos so much more easily. I have joined groups and liked pages where I get things that make me think, things that make me laugh and are places where I can just have a good old moan. 

I hate facebook. I keep on nearly leaving. I have had friends who have left because of the difficulties they are going through and how facebook adversely affects them. We become obsessed with other people's lives - what we can't have. When someone throws some good news in your face and it's the kind of good news you would love to have. When it's covered with photos of loved up couples and babies, of people who have perfect lives..... I've seen people been torn apart by that. 

I love facebook. It is a place where I can see the world in a different way. It's a place where I see people totally passionate about what they believe in. It's a place where I connect with people I wouldn't be able to connect to in any other way. 

I hate facebook. It uses up too much of my time. I once spent a day off facebook, it felt like the chains had gone. It's scarily addictive and feels like a necessity. 

It's the 10th Anniversary of facebook. You can't escape it. Those videos are everywhere. I made one myself. After I made mine the 'edit' function was introduced - in case you weren't happy with your facebook life. Says it all really. We're all guilty of it - we edit our lives on facebook to become something that shows us in our best light. I have always had a policy of not de-tagging myself on photos - but it's tempting. I don't want people to see me looking awful. Yet this is me, I am who I am. I should be who I am on facebook. 

I've recently started to use facebook slightly differently in a way that reflects how I am trying to live. It is in a way that is inspired by a woman I met in India who said that despite all of the trouble at home she saw God's blessings in the tiniest of things and it reminded her that God is with her. A friend introduced my to 100 Happy Days (my photos). I don't expect to be totally happy for 100 days, but I'm expecting to take the time to look for the tiny (and bigger) blessings in life where I remember God's goodness. It's been great to see so many people take up this challenge and I love seeing people think a little differently about what has blessed them during that day. 

I love facebook, but I hate it's superficialness. However, by sharing something of the every day and seeing parts of other people's every day it's blessed me more recently in more ways than it has in a long time. 

Even where we create a fake us - where we lie about what we have been doing to make ourselves look better (there was once a woman who used to write she was doing a 5k run and would go to the shop and come back in 5 minutes) - when we consider God reading our facebook page - he knows us intimately and knows exactly what we need even where we don't know what we need ourselves. He's the one who blesses us - not the number of likes on a status or the congratulations we crave.... it's God - and he knows where we've de-tagged, edited statuses, shouted, blocked and deleted. He knows. 

"O Eternal One, You have explored my heart and know exactly who I am;
2 You even know the small details like when I take a seat and when I stand up again.
    Even when I am far away, You know what I’m thinking.
3 You observe my wanderings and my sleeping, my waking and my dreaming,
    and You know everything I do in more detail than even I know.
4 You know what I’m going to say long before I say it.
    It is true, Eternal One, that You know everything and everyone.
5 You have surrounded me on every side, behind me and before me,
    and You have placed Your hand gently on my shoulder.
6 It is the most amazing feeling to know how deeply You know me, inside and out;
    the realization of it is so great that I cannot comprehend it."   
                                                                               Psalm 139:1-6 (The Voice)

Don't pick your scab.

Don't pick your scab. 

Some of the best advice that I was given when growing up. If you pick your scab it won't heal very well, it will bleed again, it will get infected. I once was running home from a friends house wearing my ballet shoes (I never did ballet - I've never been dainty enough or had the coordination - but I had ballet shoes) and I fell over. I seem to remember I was carrying roller skates. Why I was wearing ballet shoes with roller skates anyway I have no idea and am surprised I didn't fall over earlier. Anyway, I fell over and my knee did that thing - it bled everywhere. I got an amazing scab. 

A little while later (days? weeks?) I was at a Girls Brigade party and the scab that I had evidently been picking was knocked off in a game. My knee started to bleed again and as a result I have now on my right knee a white mark where it never had chance to heal properly. 

Don't pick your scab. 

As we journey through life we pick up wounds - some of them heal completely, some of them scab over. The trouble is that the ones that simply scab over get picked at at random intervals and they begin to bleed again. They stop us in our tracks as we realise that once again we need to clean up the mess and put a plaster on and wait for them to scab over again trying to get to the point where we stop picking so they heal completely - so that the scar is all that remains. 

Don't pick your scab.

I've noticed in being part of a church community that people have their favourite scabs to pick at - it starts with the choice of biscuit, the choice of hymns, the way things are done, the steps we are taking forward, our particular view of theology, our deep held beliefs that we are reluctant to challenge, our theological bugbear...... some of these things needed to be removed completely, some simply healed over, some actually left to flourish - but the problem we have is that we keep picking at them because it feels familiar and quite nice to pick a scab and make it bleed again so we don't have to look forward to the next hill we need to run up (or down) to get to the next place that God is taking us. 

Don't pick your scab.

I've been involved a lot in discussions about the future lately - as part of the wider Baptist family, as a Methodist circuit, as a college, as a church and as just me and one thing that has struck me is that however big the decisions that we are making we all have those scabs that at the right moment we pick at, make bleed and stop us in our tracks. 

I've decided in the last few months that I'm going to stop picking at mine. I'm also going to try and stop other people trying to pick at mine too (although that is a little bit harder). If less people picked at their own and others scabs the journey would become so much less messy (or different kind of messy) and we might actually get somewhere. 

Don't pick your scab. Just stop it..... stop.... it.....  

"I’m not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don’t get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back."              Philippians 3:12-14 (MSG)

Keeping the riff raff out....

I got the box set of Gavin and Stacey for Christmas and have watched it all this weekend (there is something quite exciting about watching a series from start to finish in a very short period of time). As well as realising that there were episodes I hadn't actually seen (my suspicions were correct - I got to the series late and have only watched it when I have spotted a repeat) it also got me thinking.... 

In the episode where Nessa has gone into labour and Smithy rushes from Essex to Wales to be there for the birth, when he gets to the bridge him and Gav realise they are 10p short for the toll.... much arguing with the woman on the barrier goes on, and eventually Smithy gets out, lifts the barrier and they drive off. 

That barrier represents the distance between Gavin and Stacey - the difficulty in being together when they come from different places and have a different way of life. Gavin loves his home in Essex and Stacey loves her home in Wales. The barrier is symbolic of their differences, yet as these stories go, love conquers all and the barriers are overcome. 

Barriers are placed to keep people out or sometimes keep people in...! They are a way of life, making us pay money, keeping the riff raff out, perhaps protecting us from harm. 

As well as the physical barriers we also set up our own barriers to protect us from harm, to keep the riff raff out, to stop potential problems from happening. When we are feeling particularly vulnerable we put up barriers that don't need to be there. It means we don't have to encounter those things that we find difficult. It helps us to avoid a situation but doesn't help us deal with a situation. 

Some of us live in our own little fortresses. We cut off contact from those situations we find difficult, where to face things head on it will shake our very foundations. We cling to what we know - to structures and ways of doing stuff - so hard that we create barriers that won't let anyone else in. 

The trouble is, where we don't let anyone else in, or we create our own bubble of security, we miss the beauty of life. We miss the chance to interact with new people and ideas. We miss loving and getting to know the people who could make a great difference in our life. We put up our fortress and exclude and hurt those who we do not let in, those who we leave out in the cold. 

Psalm 62:6 says, 'Truly he [God] is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken'.

When we create our own little fortresses of exclusion, keeping us and the ones we care about most 'safe', and keeping the riff raff out, we forget that God is our fortress. We don't need to create strong barriers, but need to acknowledge that God is the one that is the strongest fortress. Human made barriers prevent and stop, God's fortress enables us to move forward in his strength, which is stronger than any foundation that we might build in our own little fortresses. God's fortress is enabling and life changing, we need no other. 

And everyone else....

One of the challenges of new year is more often or not the question of 'what shall I do on new years eve?' I try not to think about this question too early as it preoccupies me and I worry I'd make the wrong choice. The answer to this question has led me to a variety of different new year things with different people. I think the last time I didn't enjoy new year was when I had a horrible headache and went to bed at 10 missing celebrating the new year with my then boyfriend and his parents. 

This year I thought about spending new year on my own - just to see if it was ok. I thought about watching my new Miranda DVDs and possibly being really counter cultural and going to bed early. I'm not though, as it feels right to be with people at new year and I am spending it with people who I love a lot.  

One of the best things about the time around Christmas and New Year is time people take to just be with people. For me it is my family who have unspoken traditions of gathering for boxing day tea and going for a walk in the worst weather possible (this year we did it on the day of the storms - amber weather warning - let's walk). Community is important, yet as a single person I am very aware of how easy it is for people to get left isolated where everyone else around you is doing what they want to do. To do what I want to do I sometimes feel like I am invading the space of others. 

Today I read a newly released book I saw on Twitter called 'Cancer and Theology' edited by Jake Bouma and Erik Ullestad. It's a collection of essays exploring what Christian faith has to say about cancer. It struck me in reading it how important community is. For a number of the writers what was important in their experiences and in the experiences of those around them was the community of people who stood with them. Those who didn't just walk away and offer to pray, but asked them what they needed prayer for. Those who didn't just offer to help, but turned up with hot food at the right time. Those who didn't just want to sympathise but who wanted to talk about normal stuff too. Those who didn't say it'll be ok, but acknowledged that cancer is rubbish and sat through the rubbishness with them. 

Life changes, illness, being different and looked over can isolate us from community. Our fear of 'the other' means we sometimes unthinkingly isolate those who need to be welcomed. Our fear of being annoying or rejected means we isolate ourselves from being welcomed. We can't fix everyones problems by making them like us but we can stand with them on their journey and also seek out others to ride the waves with us. 

The challenge is to seek out community and not walk away from those who can stand with us. The challenge is to face the fact we might not always get it right, but accept one another even when we don't. The challenge is that people are sometimes weird and difficult - but that's ok. The challenge is to look, listen and simply be. The challenge is to fully embrace the idea that every person within a community is made in the image of God.

Coming down from the top of the mountain

Last week I climbed up Helvellyn in the Lake District - it's the third highest mountain in England. We went up the steep way, because striding edge is a bit scary and because the steep way is shorter. I haven't climbed a mountain the last few years of being in the Lake District for our annual autumn holiday because I haven't felt fit enough. This year I was fit enough (mainly due to strange dance exercise classes) and was able to climb..... at my own pace... but climb. 

I got to the top and I felt my left knee do that thing where it doesn't want to bend any more.... where it doesn't want to play ball and work in the way it normally does. As we put our coats on as the clouds descended on the top I wondered whether it was going to last on the way down.... and it didn't. The descent was painful, mostly sidewards and accompanied at every step with loud shouts of 'ow' as my knee complained. I even got strange looks from the woman who had stopped near the bottom as her companions went up who said to me 'that's why I haven't gone any further'. 

I'm glad I did go further. I am glad I did get to the top.... but the descent made me question whether it was worth it. With hindsight it is and next year I am going to try and train my knees up to deal with mountain climbing, perhaps buy myself a couple of sticks and maybe try a different mountain. 

When you are at the top of the mountain it is awesome. You can see for miles. You feel like you've achieved something. But, at some point you need to get down as you wouldn't be able to survive up there for a very long time despite the awesome views. 

I'm now over half way through my ministerial training (can you believe it?) and it hit me a few months ago that the feeling of elation and excitement at doing what I am meant to be doing had gone away... that I was beginning to have to face the gritty reality of what this life can be like. I needed to begin to slowly descend that mountain where everything was awesome (I am sure I annoyed everyone by telling them how brilliant it was) to a place of balance where I can survive long term. 

The trouble is, on that descent, the knee problem sets in. It starts with a niggle, a moment of oh this could be difficult and then at times makes you cry out in pain. As you hit the reality of life in the descent there are times of blessing but there are also times of wrestling where you ask 'can I still do this?'. 

When you read testimonies of people in different forms of church leadership and ministry, one that stays at the summit of the mountain sounds glorious, but is it truthful? I've read honest accounts of real wrestling with God from people like Pete Grieg (God on Mute is a brilliant book) and heard stories of and seen people who behind the public face struggle with stress and depression. 

The reality is fantastically awesome on the mountain top (which is why I want to climb another one) but is painfully difficult when you are walking sidewards down a seemingly endless path of rocks.  

I was reminded yesterday of the poem 'If' by Rudyard Kipling where it talks about how if you can keep everything together when everyone else is not that that is the thing to aim for. It talks of being strong in adversity, of not being overcome by weakness. As I thought about it, I couldn't help but question that Kipling got it wrong. I think that a lot of people might see the role of the minister as being that person who holds it together - and perhaps there are times when that is true and only right. But.... 

2 Corinthians 2:19 says: "My grace is all you need, for my power is greatest when you are weak"

Being strong isn't all it's cracked up to be. Admitting you need God is. When we are at our weakest then God's power is at it's greatest. At the moment I can't expand on that further, but as I am descending the mountain and embracing the reality of ministry I need to admit that my knees hurt, and I need to remember that God is beside me, knees hurting too. 

"For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you. Do not fear; I will help you."                      Isaiah 41:13