Dropping the Mentos

I remember when I first saw someone drop mentos into a bottle of coke. It was in a field, far enough away from the Boys Brigade bell tents to not cause a sticky mess on the (despite having tent inspection a few hours ago) chaos inside. As the mentos dropped, the bubbles got rather enthusiastic and the bottle jumped, bounced, exploded as those watching sprang back and watched. 

What was really happening was that as the mentos dropped, the bubbles weren't just dancing from the sidelines, they had attached themselves to the tiny pits all over the surface of the mint. The bubbles want to attach themselves, but there is a fight between the mint (which is heavy and wants to sink to the bottom) and the bubbles, and as the bubbles push upwards, the mentos sink, pushing the soda up and out of the bottle with a blast (or something like that).

Our insides can feel a bit like a bottle of fizzy. We have so much going on - so many active bubbles dancing around - the whirlwind of emotions trying to balance the complexities of life. It's OK when we're stood still, but movement can leave us precarious for a while. If someone unscrewed our lid, we don't know what we would do. 

And then someone drops in the mentos. 

The mentos come in different forms - the facebook post that clicks our button, the email at the wrong moment, the voice from the past back to haunt us, triggering the memories that brought us to now. The one thing too many in a world that feels unstable right now, the news that hits us where it hurts. 

And then we explode - we become the person we said we would never be and as we see the effect we can't stop the ferocious fountain, and the sticky mess reaches the already chaotic place we find ourselves in. 

There is too much right now for many of us that could be our own mentos and we need to be careful about the positions we find ourselves in. There are far too many places we could be the mentos for others and we need to be gracious in our thinking about where we let go. 

I've been thinking a lot about Philippians 4 lately as I've been trying to avoid being part of the mentos drop. It's hard to reflect on the goodness sometimes when something has made you angry, and I got really quite annoyed with a friend who told me to do this recently, because I wanted to rant..... but when the ranting is over, the fizziness subsides, and in the stillness, the reflection is easier - and reflecting on the goodness becomes more of who we are. It doesn't mean the problem necessarily goes away, but it helps us to hold it differently. 

"I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious - the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realised. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies"           Philippians 4:8-9 (MSG) 

May the fizziness inside you find a place where the bubbles can rest. 

On Walking Alone part 3.....

At a conference for Women Leaders, I was chairing a question panel and a question I asked got thrown back in my direction like a boomerang, and as often happens when unexpected things are thrown at me, I bumbled my way through the answer with a bit of waffle. The question was something about what things need to be put in place to thrive as a single woman in ministry. I've chewed a bit on this question ever since. As I've mentioned before in this blog, I am a very settled single. My singleness is often more of a problem (or status of intrigue) for others than it is for me. As I have changed jobs, the question of marital status and family life has been raised again, and the big question of where I find support has been brought up in many a conversation. 

Whilst my answer to the question at the conference ended up with 'I model myself on Miranda really', I think that there is a better answer than that, and during the last week as I have spent a lot of time with family and led the wedding celebration service for my nephew - the first of the generation below me to get married - I've been reflecting on this. 

Everybody is different. I'm an introvert for a start, which means I am very happy with my own company, and that helps. I don't need to be with other people to fill my sink up - although sometimes I do. But, there are things I have intentionally put in place (and other things I have just been blessed with), which might help answer the question. 

I have the amazing blessing of a good and close family who understand ministry. I know that if I need to talk to someone who gets it and gets me, then I have that support on the end of the phone. My family lives too far away for my liking, and it is no secret that before I settled in South London I asked God to move me to the Midlands so I could be closer to more of my family. He chose not to, but because of that, I've made sure that I put some flexibility into my diary so that I can see my family if I need to..... and I have learnt that I shouldn't feel guilty about that. I am at my best when I make time to spend time with those who know me best and love me unconditionally. 

I have a network of friends who I've built up over the years who don't need me to be their minister - those who give as much and more than they get. I have friends who check up on me, who remember the significant moments in my diary and who pray for me regularly. Most of them live far away, but we manage - and I'm a good base for going into London so, although I don't always get chance to travel, my house is a convenient hotel for guests who are happy to mow my grass (although it's not compulsory). 

Since being in ministry I have chosen to opt in to local Baptist family support networks. Nobody gets Baptist ministry like a Baptist minister. I have been blessed with honest, gracious and wise cluster groups and local colleagues who have walked with me through some of the most difficult bits of the journey and celebrated with me through the good stuff. Never underestimate the support of those around. 

And finally, I make sure I have distractions from ministry, even if it means relying on myself to provide the fun! I walk to think things through, stomping out my frustrations, finding stillness and talking it out with God. I have learnt the art of eating alone without feeling odd and I love a spontaneous solo theatre or concert trip. You don't need other people to be free to do these things. I have joined a choir, because I know a good sing always makes the world better. The choir demands nothing of me, but gives me community. And if in doubt, there are always boxsets. 

I can't say that it is always easy, and I get it wrong sometimes, and days off can be just me being a terrible grump (stay away!). I need two hours to wind down after an evening meeting, and that can be a lonely place. But, I'm aware that we all struggle and I don't have to have everything sorted. 

One thing that I was taught at college was that if something drains your sink, always put something in place to fill it up - so I always try to follow up a difficult visit or conversation with something good - whether that's meeting someone who always makes me feel better, or going to that place where God feels close and the beauty of creation sings good things into my soul. I try not to stay empty for too long and I've learned to recognise the signs. I'm a chronic overthinker and regularly have anxiety nightmares, and I'm trying out new things to help with that. Not always successful, but I'm trying. My most recent mantra is "you've said it, you can't change it now, leave it behind". When you are on your own, you learn to self soothe instead of having another person do that for you, and that does take a lot of effort sometimes, but it's worth it. 

At the end and the beginning of all of this, I come back to the fact that God called me as me - and that includes my relationship status. I don't need to have what anyone else has or be who anyone else thinks I should be, because God knew who I was and who I will become before he called me by name. I have confidence in God, and that is what matters. If I can keep coming back to that, I think - I know - all will be well. And that, when everything else has fallen away, is what keeps me being all that he has made me to be. For that, I am eternally thankful.

"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand" Isaiah 41:10

 

Fifty….

Fifty years of ordained ministry. Quite an achievement. I don't know what the stats are on how long the average time in ministry is, but I do know fifty years is a long time. 

My Dad Brian, my favourite Dad. I have never known him not to be a minister. He was my local church minister for the first fifteen years of my life, and although he then went on to minister in another context, he has continued to be a role model in my life, particularly as I have taken my own journey into ordained ministry which has, in some ways (although I am reluctant to admit it) gone in a similar direction, but in others, diverted as I have explored my own calling, not exactly following his footsteps, but with something in the genes that clearly shines through us both - both inspired by our pioneering Baptist ancestors, which, we have discovered more recently originated from our family of bootmakers from Hampshire and non-conformists from North Wales. 

My Dad, from whom I have inherited my stubbornness and tenacity, my sense of humour and my left wing tendencies. He stands on his head to make a point (I still don’t know what that point is) and makes giant sheep and angels out of cardboard boxes. My Dad, who I am both similar and very different to (don't expect us to have the same views on or ways of approaching situations). Today marks 50 years of ordained ministry. 

Dad was called to ministry as a teenager from Durham City Baptist Church. This was the church where he grew up as it grew up. His parents - my Grandparents were part of the group of 'convinced Baptists' who began to meet together in Durham in 1949, and, two years later, in the year my Dad was born, the church was formally constituted - the family stories say that he was the first baby to be dedicated in the newly planted church. 

I was born when my Dad was ministering in his first churches in Derbyshire. I've been told that he was the 'cool, young Baptist minister with a young family and a guitar'. I grew up with him leading the ministry at Mansfield Road Baptist Church in Nottingham - the church on the corner - a huge building with many different rooms and activities to fill them. It was a privilege to have my Dad as my minister. In the school holidays and days off I'd go down to church with my Mum and sit in what I remember being a cavernous office - the ultimate reward being getting to play with the ball of elastic bands on his desk and roll out the carpets for toddler group. 

Children of the manse would make for an interesting and challenging research project. You hear stories of rebellion and turning away from God, and for my peers in ministry with children, I know it is a continuous challenge. When Dad retired my brothers, sister and I shared some of our stories of what life was like growing up and how we all ended up Ok really - we were all baptised by our Dad and all continue to have faith which we express in different ways in different contexts. 

Growing up, the expectation was that we would be involved in church - we knew that Dad's job was more than just a job, that it was life, and as children we were part of that. We attended evening services with our reading books from a very young age, and I'm sure fell asleep on the pews quite regularly. We were deeply involved in church life, but we also were protected from the realities of ministry by my parents, which I am very grateful for. They didn't talk about the challenges and the pain that inevitably are part of the journey in front of us, but made sure we had the opportunities we needed to grow in faith. We don't know what it took to get a good Sunday School and Youth Group into our lives - but that's what happened and that's where my faith grew and I am grateful for that. 

As I grew up and learned to listen better, I was blessed with my Dad as my minister to hear some really good preaching. A few years ago I went through the family archives chest of surprises and I found a newspaper article about how in 1994 Dad appeared in the "Good Preachers Guide" - nominated by a church member I think. The article talks about how he had come a long way from his first preach at 16, when he preached for 45 minutes a sermon that was full of awful jokes - he was pulled aside afterwards by a member of his congregation and told to never to preach that way again otherwise they wouldn't commend him for ministry (thankfully he calmed down the bad jokes and they did). As my Dad left local church ministry to become Area Superintendent in the West Midlands area and after I left home, I realised how much I'd been spoiled, and it is a pleasure on trips to Derbyshire now (where life has gone full circle for my Mum and Dad who have ended up where they started) to hear my Dad preach. If you've ever heard/seen both him and me preach you might notice that I've inherited my preacher hand moves from him.... 

When I finally felt ready to follow my own call to ministry, I knew that my Dad would be there at my side. He has been one of my best companions on the road. It's so handy to have someone who knows both me and the journey of ministry so well to talk to if I need to (not that that has happened that often - I've always believed that I've been called to ministry as me and not to emulate his ways, and so have been determined to be independent from my Dad in ministry, stubbornly perhaps, but then that is probably a family trait). 

As a role model in ministry, I am so pleased I have Dad. He and my Mum taught me that God often calls you where you don't expect (or perhaps even want?) to go, and so in settlement, although the idea of me going to South London was confusing to us all, I went in the knowledge that God's call is more than my own ideas and ambitions - and as I look back I see that both in their life and mine. He's taught me that whilst ministry inevitably takes over your life, there is still place for fun and for family and things that bring joy. He's taught me that holidays are a place to switch off, and to withdraw from situations for a while when it's all too much - time can really be a healer. As I bring to him the stories of all the oddities of ministry and people, he regularly comes back with similarly surprising stories that remind me that it's not just me and I will find a way through. His pastoral voice continues to bring peace when the journey is tough and one of the best things in life is when he says he is proud of me. 

One of my favourite pictures of my Dad is when he is explaining what ordination means at my own ordination. I was ordained as he prepared to retire from his final full time ministry post in Leeds - a passing on of the baton perhaps. He has his hands round my youngest nephew's neck (gently!) and he is reminding the congregation that when a minister is called to serve that it is not a calling for the church to strangle or smother or put their minister in a box. A minister is called by God as the person that God has made them to be, and is given the responsibility to lead the church forwards, to discern God's vision with the church and follow God's way. My Dad has not only encouraged that, but has also demonstrated that, by always putting God first and being faithful to his calling, even in the most difficult of situations where he could have just walked away. I am inspired by this, and it has helped me to not only survive, but thrive and continue to minister both when things have been rocky and when things have been a joy. 

As role models go, I think I've been spoilt. 

So to my favourite Dad, who I hope doesn't mind me drawing attention to this milestone - congratulations on 50 faithful years. Thank you. 

God is good, all the time - may he bless you abundantly with his wisdom and goodness and may that flow out of you to bless the ones that you continue to serve. 

Don't forget to Breathe.....

"You just chase your dreams, you don't even take the time to sleep. 
But don't forget to breathe. Don't forget to breathe.
And when you're down and out, just hold on, please.
Or just close your eyes and count to three
But don't forget to breathe. Don't forget to breathe"      Stormzy

There's a lot to make us angry at the moment. There's a lot to make us shout. There are polarised views and there's injustice and disappointment. 

There's a lot to make us sad at the moment. There's a lot to to make us weep. There's bad news and there are broken lives and there's so much devastation. 

There's a lot to make us anxious at the moment. There's a lot to make us worry. There's uncertainty and there are stumbling blocks and potholes. 

In the midst of it all, don't forget to breathe. 

At the end of a week with all of the stuff in it the other week, I saw an advert for Pro Plus on the tram, promising to make me feel more awake if I took Caffeine tablets. The solution was not to pause, but to make it possible to keep going. The makers of Pro Plus know that's how the world works.....

But I'd rather not, because I know that to put the things in place to make me go faster only means that the shouting, the weeping, the worrying - it'll become harder to contain, and it will overwhelm. 

I'd rather find the time to rest, the time to sleep and the time to be still and know that God is God. God puts rest at the centre of the ten commandments. 

He's big enough to hold the landscape. He's strong enough to hold the broken. He holds the stable place amongst the uncertainty. He brings peace even in the places where peace seems impossible. 

In the midst of it all, don't forget to breathe. 

You'd love to change everything now, you lose sleep because you can't see how.

But don't forget to breathe. Don't forget to breathe. 

And when you don't know where to turn, just be still, please.

Just close your eyes and rest in God.

Don't forget to breathe. Don't forget to breathe. 

Breathe in peace 

Breathe in joy

Breathe in love 

Breathe in strength

"Like a shepherd, he will care for his flock, gathering the lambs in his arms, hugging them as he carries them, leading the nursing ewes to good pasture" Isaiah 40:11 (MSG)

A musical journey….

I love music. Good music makes my heart sing. I wake up in the morning and I listen to music. Music accompanies my day. When I’m feeling stressed a loud piano play helps me to find my way. I love to sit and listen and watch live music being created. One of my most precious moments was when I had my sound portrait painted and as the musicians played it felt like everything was right with the world. Music speaks of the beauty and glory of God and inspires my faith. A song caught in the air reminds me of the time I first heard it and the story of the journey I was on at the time. 

I collect songs - the songs that have become my theme songs in certain times and places - the songs that continue to speak to me and remind me of my calling and my identity in Christ. They are the songs that have got me through, that for a while I have listened to every morning to remind me of who I am and where I’m going. They are the songs that were in the right place at the right time. 

As I prepare to leave New Addington I’ve been reflecting on some of the songs that have documented my journey through the last few years of surprising and unexpected events. A bit like the desert island discs of my journey. They are on a playlist here . I won’t write about them all but here are four….

You Say - Lauren Daigle

My brilliant friend introduced me to this song at a time I was doubting my own abilities as I was exploring moving on before I even knew New Addington existed. It sat on repeat as I travelled further south than I ever expected and on my first drive to church after I had moved to New Addington it came on the radio (a surprise as I didn’t know it had been released). It speaks about how when the voices around you are saying you are not enough, when you’re suffering from imposter syndrome, that God says you are enough. Sometimes you need to hear that. I did for a time…. It reminds me of my friend, who has been a constant companion on the journey into and through ministry and, whenever I see her, her presence just makes everything seem right. 

For a time like this - Bethel Worship Arts (feat Cidney Dobrodt)

I stumbled across this song when preparing for worship as we sank deeper into lockdown and it became my theme song for a while. I listened to it every morning and whilst I was delivering food and letters to people. It spoke to me as the frustrations of the pandemic affected everyone and everything and caused brokenness and conflict. This song kept me going through the most difficult of days.

It came on in the car the other day and revisiting it reminded me of that time, the words “you were made for a time like this” singing to me in a new way as I have come to the realisation in the last few months that my calling to NABC has been for a season, that I was called here to lead the church through covid but not in what comes next. I was called for a winter season and as new life begins to appear, I hope to hear good stories of the things that emerge. 

I think it’s going to rain today - Nina Simone

This is a beautiful song and I love to sing and play it. I first sunk into its beauty when I heard a version of it on Gilmore Girls (my go to series if life needs soothing). It is played at a particularly sad part of the story when Lorelei and Rory stop talking as Rory moves into her Grandparents pool house. 

I listened to this a lot when I got back from sabbatical and picked up work again. The weight of the work we do as a church was getting heavier and the world seemed more broken and it was affecting each one of us, yet in amongst all of that there was goodness and hope and compassion and deep deep love. It’s a song that makes me feel sad but it also soothes me. It speaks about how when things are shattered, when people are shattered, that there is something about the human heart that shines despite. That’s the light and hope of Jesus shining through. Where I see the light shine within and be reflected in the shattered and distorted view in unexpected ways, there I see the goodness of God. 

Firm Foundation - Cody Carnes

This is my current earworm. I’ve been listening to it over and over since I first sang it at ministers conference a couple of weeks ago. It tells the story of how God has kept me upright, my life motto of finding joy despite, of finding peace that nobody understands. It even tells the story of the rain and the wind that have not just been a metaphor as we have suffered from far too many leaks and cracks in the manse (don't worry it has all been or is being sorted). It reminds me that when I’ve got my feet in the right place, that thriving, whatever is going on around, is possible. A song for now, I think, then we’ll see what comes next. 

And the other songs? They tell the stories of how God continues to be good and faithful, of the people around me who have helped me stand when my legs have been wobbly and of the hope that I have that continues to remind me that the way things are are not the way they have to be...... 

The Father's Song - I played this to the online congregation in our first lockdown service; The Blessing, that blessed so many of us during the first weeks of lockdown; In this heart that expressed so much of what I was feeling during the November lockdown in 2020; Hold On, as I held on with the help of my choir we sang this in a socially distanced group of six in the park in the dark in one of those surreal moments only the pandemic can explain; I'll fight, reminding me I can be so much with the support of others; Don't forget to Breathe, a constant reminder; Beautiful Things, that I wrote about here; Oh Holy Night, the theme of a weary Christmas at the end of a bonkers couple of months; The Goodness of God, because he is, and when it comes down to it, He is the firm ground on which I stand. 

What’s your go to song of the moment? 

The Lord your God is with you,
    the Mighty Warrior who saves.
He will take great delight in you;
    in his love he will no longer rebuke you,
    but will rejoice over you with singing. 

Zephaniah 3:17

Fault in the Shadows

 "Did living under the shadow of his high achieving wife lead to unthinkable tragedy? Details emerge of the tensions behind the picture perfect lives of the Epsom College head and her husband who "killed her and their daughter before turning the gun on herself" 

This is a Daily Mail headline this morning (11th Feb 2023). The reporter is commenting on the murder of Emma Pattison, head of Epsom College and daughter, Lettie, committed by her husband, George Pattison, who then went on to kill himself. 

This story has made the headlines, unlike other stories of women who have been murdered by their partners, because of the position that Emma Pattison held at Epsom College. She was a woman with a high profile. A woman who has achieved a lot in life. A woman who was a leader and an example to others. A woman who was trying to be all she could be. 

And because of that, journalists have decided that it is time to discuss whether she brought it upon herself because of her ambition and status. I have (reluctantly) read the article and other accompanying articles, and it gets worse than the headlines. I really hate the Daily Mail, but I know so many who read it.... so sometimes, like today, I dig in a little - just to see (a little disclaimer there). 

So... how do we respond to this? What do we do with this? 

At the moment I'm fuming, to be honest, in the knowledge that I know people who are full of love who choose to read this paper with all of this stuff. I am fuming knowing that this isn't just what came to the front of this one journalist's mind, but is a rhetoric that has run throughout history and is something that runs in all spheres of life, including the church. It is a rhetoric based on power struggles nobody asked to have and it is a symptom of our fallen world, where in Genesis 3 we see the created partnership of human beings distorted, as the first people turned away from God, and power and control came into play. 

But what can we do with all of this? 

We can get angry, yes. We can call it out.... but there are other things we can do too, and one thing we can do is keep reminding women that it is not their fault....

So here's the reminder.... 

It's not about what you wear, or what you have done or what you have said. It is not about what you do for a job or your level of knowledge on the things you have studied. It is not about whether you returned that call when you couldn't or weren't answering the text when you were talking with your friends. It is not about whether you have money or are relying on the provision of others. It is not about whether you are struggling with health or caring for someone who can't. It is not about whether you remembered to pick up shopping today or had the tea cooked at exactly the right time. It is not because you walk home alone or like to go running. It is not because you disagreed or had an opinion. It is not because you pick your teeth or play your music too loud. 

It is not your fault. It's not you. 

Our God is a God of life and not death, of flourishing and not diminishing.

Our God created human beings with potential and gifting, and we glorify him when we work to thrive in the fields he has called us to.

Don't let the blame game, the power games, hold you back from being all you can be. 

It is not your fault. It's not you. 

Crumbly

I made a cake late yesterday afternoon. Cherry and Almond Cake. It's a precarious cake to make because the almonds don't hold together as well as the flour and you bake it in a bundt tin (one with a hole in the middle) so getting it out of the tin is always a fun challenge because of its grooves and nooks and crannies and inevitably a bit gets stuck to the tin. 

Yesterday about an eighth of it got stuck in the tin. It sat there taunting me unwilling to get out of its comfortable bed of warmth to begin the process of cooling. I banged the tin, but in the end had to get it out with a palette knife, which caused it to fly out and land in a pile of pieces. I'm not a great presenter of cakes, but having an eighth of the cake in pieces adds extra challenge. 

But, the thing is, whilst the cake is still warm it's still cooking a little bit, and there is a window where it can be rescued by the scientific method of holding it together. 

So I rebuilt the cake, like a drystone wall, putting together each bit in the hole that was probably made for it, but possibly not, gently pushing it together to make a whole cake again. I held it for a while, firmly but gently so as not to make it a squashed cake. I put the tin back on top for a short while to let the heat flow round and in the cracks and crevices, bringing healing to the broken sponge. It stood together, ready to be iced and I left it to cool. 

And when I came back to ice it? The cake stood firm, the evidence it had fallen apart only there in the slightly patch work section where the drywall building told the story of the disaster that wasn't meant to be. I covered it with icing to help it firm up its purpose as one cake and left it to establish its looks to displayed in our community cafe this morning. 

I've just had a piece (you have to test it) of the most broken part, and, yes, it stood strong together. 

Sometimes when you are broken, like the cake, you just need to be held for a while, and then you will become, scars and all, whole again. 

Where the promises of life are not all they are cracked up to be, where the shape you hoped to become falls apart when you try and extract yourself from the mould you hoped would keep you together, where part of you wants to stay in the warm tin, where it's all a bit crumbly.... sometimes you just need to be held. 

----------------------------------

Jesus said this:

"Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest" Matthew 11:28

Come to me all you who feel like you are falling apart and I will help you put yourself back together

Come to me all you who are feeling like you are not quite right and I'll help you find your place

Come to me all you who are scared of leaving the comfort of where you are and I will help you face what comes next

Come to me all you who are broken and I will make you whole.