On arrival at the year that seemed so far away

At the end of 2019 the trend of offering the creation a photo book that rips your photos from your social media with underlining captions appears to be the advertisement of choice. It’s an interesting exercise to do if you are an over-poster like me because it gives an overview of in-the-moment comments and photos that tell the story of a year that has brought all sorts of changes and challenges both in my personal life and in the life of just about everyone I know (unless you have been hiding in a box). The cost of those books once formed is another challenge probably not to be faced but for a moment it creates a time to reflect. 

On the 1st January 2019 the next 365 days stood solid before me with a number of challenges to face - some expected and just about controllable, some expected but beyond the control of most of us and some completely unknown. It’s been a year of change and celebration, a year where work has overtaken my life in ways I never thought work could and a year of what only can be described as chaos in this country that is seeking to find a new identity within parameters that can’t currently hold what it is. 

Underlying all of this is a holding on..... a holding on to what grounds us, what keeps us upright and what keeps us steady. For me my holding on has come through song - particularly through the songs of Lauren Daigle who has reminded me again and again of my own capabilities, gifting and worth in God as the punches and stumbling blocks have raised their ugly heads. The holding on has also come through the small things - and the story my Instagram book of the year tells - in amongst the working too hard and the change and those around me losing their heads as I try to keep mine - is this story.  A story of baking and bucket lists and shoes and giant strawberries.... an impressive collection of ikea pencils and the roses that brought joy at the right moment.... glorious skies with burnt orange sunsets and glittery antlers that hardly left my head in the week leading up to Christmas..... a story of love and of friendship, of stoicism (I even bought a badge) and keeping on keeping on.... that in a year of being kept me on track. 

In some ways 2020 has crept upon me. It hadn’t occurred to me that it was the end of a decade - the year with a number that somehow makes me feel both happy and uneasy (perhaps reflecting my general state of being right now) has just appeared, like a hidden peak on this hill I’ll be climbing over this year. 

2020 starts with a month left before all change. It starts with a January to bask in the EU we belong to before it begins to be peeled away, not like a sticking plaster but like a TK Maxx label where you manage to get everything removed but the price. 

2020 will see us holding on tight to what keeps us steady - one another - the small things that bring us joy - the moments of hope - the songs that unite - the places that we trust enough to call home. 

2020 for me I hope will see me getting used to this life I’ve been called to.... and I hope will see a bit more stability than the last year has brought. I imagine that it will bring further challenges I have never encountered before as I work with people affected most acutely by austerity measures, uncertainty and the fall out from Brexit. 

2020 sees me climb over the hill, have my name on a book as editor (that’s exciting!) and enter into the pastry section of my gbbo baking challenge. I’m hoping it will see me join a choir and find my identity in the south as a belonger not a temporary incomer whose heart is pulled northwards more often than expected.

2020 is going to be hard. The effects of Brexit are unknown but known to be very much hard work. The effects of our new government are unknown but I believe inevitably challenging as our democracy is picked apart at its very core. The effects on individual lives amongst the uncertainty..... incomprehensible. 

In amongst it all? 

We’ve got to try and stand together. We need to work for unity - to see all people as human and treat them that way. 

We need to become less selfish and more generous. Our tendency in times of uncertainty is to batten down the hatches but 2020 is not a year for that - it’s a year to stand on the hill we’re climbing over and ask where light needs to shine and sticking that lightbulb in to make a difference. 

We must pray, protest, challenge, speak out.... we’re not called to be passive observers in 2020, but to be people who participate - who make places of truth, justice and mercy and belonging that speak Hope in uncertainty and show another way. 

Happy new year. May it be far better than the outlook appears to predict at the end of 2019. 

“But he’s already made it plain how to live, what to do, what God is looking for in men and women. It’s quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbour, be compassionate and loyal in your love, and don’t take yourself too seriously - take God seriously”. - Micah 6:8 (Message version) 

On getting what we deserve

The results are in, the votes have been counted and besides this London bubble I live in, the picture is bleak for the reds. All the campaigning and fighting and debating has resulted in far too much blue for my liking. Needless to say I’m disappointed, gutted, so very sad that the labour policies that would have begun to lift and transform our communities will not be seen through. 

I have collected together a rather impressive collection of left leaning friends so my Facebook and twitter feeds are full of general sorrow..... and in their anger some voices cry out “this country has got what it deserves”. 

Has it though? Just because we voted for it doesn’t mean we deserve it. 

Our broken communities don’t deserve to be battered and bruised to the point that anything to get them out of Europe is better than the policies that will make steps to heal their wounds. 

Our politicians don’t deserve to live in fear of their lives simply for disagreeing  with someone else. They don’t deserve to have lies spread about them, their families torn to shreds and their every move misreported in the press. 

That boy didn’t deserve to have to lie on the hospital floor waiting for treatment whilst his story was manipulated and distorted to make a false political point. 

We don’t deserve to be manipulated by lies and fake news as it is shouted from the front pages of newspapers all owned by people whose interest is their own. 

We don't deserve to lose the NHS, to be reliant on foodbanks, to be stuck in temporary accommodation for years because of a lack of housing. We don't deserve under resourced schools and cuts in our emergency services. We don't deserve to see the rich get richer and the poor to get left behind...... 

We don’t deserve it. 

What we deserve is truth. What we deserve is compassion. What we deserve is honesty. What we deserve is restoration. 

Because even where we disagree, people matter. Their lives matter, their voice, their opinion, their frustration with how the world is matters...... and while the next few days for many (including me) will be about mourning and trying to make sense of the result, as we move on and live with the result we’ve got to be a hand in giving this country what it actually deserves. How we do that I don’t know, but I do know I will be working for it. 

Let's give this country what it deserves - listen to the voices that have been crying out beyond the dross in this election, walk in the way of love and compassion, be part of an army of restoration, seek out truth amongst the lies, be an us first not I first member of society  - because this country deserves all of this (not that). 

And today? Practice self care. Look out for one another. Seek out glimmers of hope and light, moments of laughter, moments of joy, because it is those things, when we hurt, that will keep us walking through. 

And pray - pray for the what next, pray for the future, pray for restoration, pray for more. 

“And now, God, do it again—

    bring rains to our drought-stricken lives

So those who planted their crops in despair

    will shout hurrahs at the harvest,

So those who went off with heavy hearts

    will come home laughing, with armloads of blessing”. Psalm 126:4-5

A letter from a disgrace

Dear friend, colleague, one who looks at me and calls me a disgrace,

Thank you for my comments on my call to be a minister. I would say they are much appreciated, but actually, they're not. Your contempt towards me because of my gender is, sadly, not unusual, but surprisingly loud at the moment. I am not sure where your idea has come from that you can comment on my calling as a woman even though you have never met me and don't know my journey to ministry, but you seem to claim you have authority to do so. 

You see, the thing is, my primary calling to ministry is not from human beings, and particularly not from 80 year old men who claim an authority that is not their's. My calling is from God. It has been affirmed by my sending church, the church that ordained me, my college, my Baptist family and the church I am called to minister now where the call was so strong it cannot be anyone but God who brought me here.

As I explored the calling that I felt upon my life and took ten years to come to a decision to go to college exploring all the arguments for and against this pull in my heart, as I explored scripture and saw examples of women in leadership positions making an impact on the world, as I tried to do everything else but train to be a minister and got pulled back time and time again, as I saw rainbows at every turn confirming who I was being called to be, as I became more and more secure in my identity in Christ, I became increasingly certain that this is where and who I am meant to be. 

There are days when I feel like an imposter, when I feel like I'm making it all up. There are days when I wonder if I can stick it. There are days when I am so exhausted from the pressure of pastoral encounter after encounter that I wonder if I have the strength to carry on. 

I want to thank you then, dear friend, colleague, one who calls me a disgrace..... for reminding me of how I am called to this by God. As I read over your comments about me and every female minister across the world, I am reminded of the strength of my call, of the barriers I've faced, and the continual affirmation of others in where and who God has made me to be. Your words aren't going to stop me, because they remind me that I am not an imposter. They remind me that I am chosen, called and sent as I seek to walk in the way God is leading me - he has me by the hand.  

Your words, then, I shall let wash over me, your arguments, they send me to sleep.... and my hope, my deepest hope for you, is that one day you will look around and see the women pastoring congregations across the world, the work that we are doing, and recognise that God is at work. 

With every blessing. 

A disgraceful woman. 

PS I couldn't sell jewellery on TV to save my life - perhaps that's part of the reason I'm called to be a minister. 


This letter is a response to comments summed up in this article which sounds like a parody but sadly isn't. 

snickermarathons

When I was a tweenager I did a market research survey on the change of name of the chocolate bar Marathon to Snickers. I remember saying that I didn't think it was a good idea because I understand the language of marathon - it gives you the energy to get through - to run that endurance race..... and Snickers means what? 

They clearly didn't listen to me (as they changed the name to Snickers). Their advertising campaign for it being a cure for food anger actually probably relates more to me than me ever being a marathon runner....

But now there is an air of celebration about because for a limited time only the name has gone retro. We've got Marathon again. We've come home. 

Home to a place of nostalgia. Changing the name back doesn't mean the flavour has changed. It doesn't mean that the shrinkage that I have no doubt has happened has been reversed. It just brings an air of familiarity in uncertain days. Remember the days when they were called Marathons? They were happy days. 

When they were called Marathons I was a little person and despite tweenage angst and my struggles with making friends that stuck I was happy. I went to school, tried my girly swot best, grew my own personal faith and was secure and safe. 

But since then? Life has changed, and although life is quite tough right now because everything is changing, it doesn't mean that clutching onto a name that means less than it implies is going to help me step forward into the future. Life isn't always going to be the same, and the names and products that were there when I was growing up (and this country was in a much better place) aren't going to make life any better for more than a moment.....

Because a Marathon is still a Snickers, and while it will help me with my food anger, it won't help me run 26 miles. 

We're at a point at the moment where we're so caught up in what was that the joy of something that reminds us of childhood is more exciting than the possibilities ahead. That makes sense, because when Snickers was Marathon, things were more certain, more straightforward, more secure. Because before we went into Europe we were more sure of our identity, surely we just leave and things will just fall into place? Because when church was thriving, we did things this way, surely if we did that again, church would again rise up and be counted? 

A 21st century Marathon is still a 21st century Snickers in disguise. The nostalgic name changes nothing.

The prophet Jeremiah in Jer 6:16 says this:

"Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls"

The ancient paths that he talks about are not 30 years ago when Snickers were called Marathon. 

They're not even those however many years ago when churches were full and thriving. 

They're not even sixty years ago before our path into the EU (as it is today) began. 

They are not nostalgic paths, but they are the routes that God has laid down. 

In the midst of nostalgia rising from uncertainty, which while nice, should not determine our direction, we must remember that the ancient paths are not how things used to be, but that the good ways are the ways of God, and that is where certainty lies. In our steps ahead, a pause to look up and out and not inwards might stop lack-of-snickers diva like behaviour from becoming the norm.

(Perhaps the House of Commons needs a snickermarathon stock)

Eggy Potential

 I often wonder who first saw the potential in an egg for cooking. 

Was it an accident? Did someone accidentally drop an egg into a frying pan and see how it turned out? 

Was it an experiment? Did someone have a play with a discarded egg and study the beauty within? 

Was it that someone saw an animal enjoying eating an egg and thought they'd give it a go?

Was it instinctive logic? Did they think well the meat is OK, so the egg must be too? 

Was it desperation? Maybe they were starving and it was the only thing to hand?

I google and it tells me nothing. 

And who first discovered the usefulness of eggs for cakes? As a baker, I am amazed at just what eggs do. This week I made a lemon curd swiss roll and the eggs both brought air into the sponge and thickened the lemon curd. Why does that happen and how do we know? 

And who decided to separate the white and the yolk and use the white for meringues and the yolk to make custard? How did they know? What did they do? Did they understand what was happening?

I google and I find why it happens - the science behind it is fascinating - but how we know? Nobody knows. 

Who saw the potential of an egg? 

In chaos, by chance, by experimentation, by mistake great potential is discovered. 

The Jazz musician improvises and discovers beauty in mismatched chords. 

A pendulum is knocked, spins for a bit and then settles unexpectedly into a rhythm.

The Worcester Sauce is added to the bolognese instead of wine and produces something tastier than it was before (remember that advert?).

The eggs in the cake bind, protect the air bubbles, create texture that is dreamy, hydrate, bring lightness and softness and joy to make the cake more delicious. 

The noticing, the tasting, the listening, the waiting, the experimenting, you never know what might happen. 

Press pause and discover. 

Potential was there even before it was discovered. 

Potential grown in chaos. 

Potential grown under the ground, in the darkness, in the depths, just waiting to burst forth. 

Sometimes in the every day we forget the potential is there. We walk over it, ignore it, leave it be for another day when life is less crazy and there is time to sit still. 

But in the darkness it whispers........ "I'm still here". 

As we think about hope, about future, about next, about promises made and not realised, as we shift our expectations and set up a new camp and wait another night, we must not forget that underneath all the wanting, there sits the next, and that in a blink of an unexpected moment, the thing we never knew would be so good will be born. 

"If you are always trying to be normal you will never know how amazing you can be" - Maya Angelou

"Those who wait upon God get fresh strength. The spread their wings and soar like eagles, they run and don't get tired, they walk and don't lag behind" - Isaiah 40:31 (The Message)

A day like no other

Yesterday was a strange day. It started with the proroguing of parliament being ruled as unlawful (which brought joy in the midst of the morning), I saw a double rainbow just (as always) at about the right moment, I had a couple of conversations I wasn't expecting and caused me to turn to my brilliant network of trustworthy ones for advice and wisdom and then impeachment proceedings were being explored to begin against Trump just before I headed to bed. 

Some days are like that. But also no days are like that. We cannot underestimate the impact of what is going on in politics at the moment in the UK and the rest of the world on what is going to happen in the future. Where we don't think things can get more complicated, more complicated things happen. 

It all seems so big - so uncontrollable, that it affects our very being. How do we live in a world that is full of uncertainty? How do we make plans when we don't know what is going to happen tomorrow, never mind next year? 

We react in different ways - some of us bed in - take control of the things we can control - we make sure our own affairs are in order, take possession of the things that we perceive to matter most and become protective over our own life and space. 'Me first' becomes the mantra, and that affects our relationships with others. In some ways this is a reflection on the causes of the current political climate in the first place - making things better for me means shutting out anything that makes me feel uncomfortable. 

Some of us try to understand - we read - we try to problem solve - we tie ourselves in knots - we protest - we celebrate - we express our frustrations - we begin and join in social media conversations that are like carving through layers of hard rock with a blunt knife and fork. We find ourselves exhausted with the thinking we're doing and we lie down for while, waiting to get up again and find the way ahead. 

Neither of these ways of dealing with stuff completely satisfy. 

Bedding in doesn't mean that the problems go away. Bedding in doesn't help our relationships with others and makes us a little bit too insular. Although it might be comfortable, there is something about what is going on that niggles in our ear however much we try and shut it out. 

Trying to understand doesn't mean we'll ever arrive at understanding and leads to frustration as we discover more complications in the things that seemed simple. Trying to understand doesn't necessarily lead to solutions, and where we are able to make sense of what is going on, the niggle in our ear is that we're too far gone to get to somewhere better and the way out will be impossible to find. 

I've tried both. I've tried hiding from the news and I've tried staying up until 2am watching parliament debate (when it's been allowed to) so I can make sense of it all - but then I get frustrated and want to run and hide again..... we need to keep trying to understand, but we need to take care of ourselves, and so there are times for both - both searching and hiding, and in the search for the balance we'll find moments of peace. 

After the referendum I reflected on my disappointment with the result, and I asked the question 'how do I sing the Lord's song in a strange land?' - a question the Israelites asked when they were in exile in Babylon. I didn't know how but I knew I would not stop singing. 

And I haven't. I'm not going to a choir at the moment because the challenge of moving 252 miles has made finding a choir not the priority it should be, and although I know it would help me deal with all this, I don't feel ready to go there. However, even without those who stand singing with me, my singing has not stopped. 

Because, even in places of despair, there is always hope. Even in the deepest and darkest of places, the light gets in through the cracks. Because when we hear stories of hope - stories of justice being done - stories of love shared abundantly - stories of lives changed - we know that there is a way through, a way that is better beyond where we are now. 

And that is the Lord's song - helping us to know that however bad things get there is always hope. And while it may seems like pie in the sky sometimes and it might sometimes seem like I'm grasping and not catching - I know this hope that I have to be true - and that's what those rainbows, just at the right time, remind me. 

So in these strange days where tomorrow is a mystery and things are just a little bit confusing, hold on to that hope - look for the light, the love, the peace, the justice, the signs of promise, BE that light, that love, that peace - bring justice and depend on God's promises and that - that is what will get us through. 

"But he's already made it plain how to live, what to do, what God is looking for in men and women. It's quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbour, be compassionate and loyal in your love, and don't take yourself too seriously - take God seriously" - Micah 6:8 (The Message)

Getting on

We're currently working through the Sermon on the Mount in church services - this is a slightly truncated version of my sermon from Sunday where we explored Matthew 5:21-26 - all about getting on with each other and sorting out issues before they escalate beyond our control..... 

A few times lately I've found myself staying up late watching the BBC Parliament channel and last week was no exception (and was the reason for me being a bit tired and grumpy the rest of the week). The House of Commons is an intriguing watch - it thrives on conflict, because its through discussion and debate that the laws that benefit this country are made. It is also broken by conflict as discussion and debate is punctuated by name calling and bad behaviour towards other MPs who disagree. Unfortunately, lately there has been more brokenness than thriving because, reflecting the divisions in the country over what to do about Europe, the House of Commons is in deadlock - the only way through it right now appears to be, in one sides opinion, a break and in the others, a complete overhaul on what is going on. It's like we've hit a brick wall. 

There has been too much name-calling, muttering under breath and hiding of information and too little talking and resolution bringing lately, and as the conflict in parliament seeps out into wider society (and wider society conflict seeps into parliament) we see anger and violence escalate too quickly. 

In Jesus' time people felt insecure (they were under occupation - they were going to be insecure) and when people feel insecure they are more likely to be jumpy and irritable and they react to things in ways that could be perceived as aggressive and nasty. Those perceptions escalate and get out of all proportion until either everyone is exhausted or something awful happens. 

We live in a time of uncertainty and insecurity when it comes to our own country's future.This leads to uncertainty and insecurity in our own lives. Last week the government were forced to release their 'yellowhammer' documents detailing the consequences of a no-deal Brexit and it made it clear how insecure and uncertain the times we are living in are. We need to watch ourselves and how we behave during this time, because as our lives change, our reactions will reflect the uncertainty we feel.

When we face conflict the way we react changes. We no longer take things on face value and spend time overthinking what things really mean, we find it more difficult to communicate and we have to put more effort in. We find it harder to listen to people unless they have the same opinions as us and we get suspicious of people and wonder 'what they are up to'. Uneasiness leads to anxiety and leads to painful experiences. Things progress and we burn up inside. 

Once we get through this time of uncertainty, whatever the result, I hope that we might see some light at the other side. I hope that we might begin to see some new life. I hope..... I'm not sure that will happen for a long time, but that's my hope. We've got to work at transforming conflict from being something toxic and life draining into something beautiful and life giving. It might seem impossible at the moment. 

In a country where a 52-48 split divides us, how can we sing the Lord's song and bring about the transformation that Jesus calls us to as we follow him and seek to live out his Kingdom values? 

Blessed are the Peacemakers. 

In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus takes the Jewish law and shows that it points to a new way - the way in which Jesus is the pioneer and makes possible and encourages alternative patterns of behaviour that will make this world a better place. 

In Matthew 5:21-26, Jesus takes that commandment 'you shall not murder' and he expands it out - this isn't just about murder, it's about never getting to the point where you are anywhere never even contemplating murder. It's about not getting to that place where relationships are so broken that we find it impossible to find a way through. It's about intervening in our own anger before it becomes life destroying. He talks about the smouldering anger that we find difficult to let go of. 

We can be released from that smouldering anger, but we need to choose to let it go - stop letting it define us, and be released from its fire. This doesn't depend on the other party's reaction to your move towards forgiveness - that's up to them, but it depends on you preparing to go there and change your heart. 

Because if we don't, it only escalates, and the anger that is internalised comes out from our mouth. And that doesn't sound good. We begin name calling, calling others stupid or naive..... and far worse. We get consumed by our anger and then think everyone who disagrees with us is an idiot not worth making time for. The name calling turns bad and it turns to aggression and we think irrationally that everyone is out to get us and we carry weapons just in case and one day our anger overflows and that commandment 'do not murder' gets broken.....

We see it happen in our communities. 

So what do we do? How can we change?

Jesus gives practical advice - simply try and deal with issue, but do it sensibly. Face up to what is bothering you. Seek reconciliation and work through the conflict instead of running away from it or talking about it behind one another's back. We've got to work at making relationships work. Deal with the issues now and don't let them fester. Aim to make friends and not enemies - otherwise what will happen? 

Bitterness breeds bitterness and creates a toxic environment. Quarrels are passed over too.... families and churches have been split for generations because of the kind of things Jesus talks about. To get out of this pit of anger and bitterness, it may be that we, even if we believe we are the ones that are in the right - even if we are the ones in the right, need to make the step towards reconciliation first. 

We might read Jesus' advice and think about our own situation and the hurt that has been done to us, the broken relationships that feel like they are not mendable and the pain of even contemplating doing something about it and wonder how it is possible to live out what Jesus teaches here. Yes it does seem impossible......

Until we look at Jesus - who embodied everything he taught about murder and anger on the cross - for where we can't be reconciled he reconciled all - look at how Jesus forgave - he died for all - and he also shows us what we need to do even if the person we are trying to forgive is not able to accept our forgiveness. Jesus forgave once and for all. To let go of the smouldering anger that burns where we can't reconcile, perhaps the next step in letting go and being free from the chains that bind you is to hand that burden to Jesus, who takes your anger, takes the sinfulness of your oppressor, and has already died for you under its load. He will take that load for you and he will deal with it and he won't let you fester and will help you to unravel all that is churned up inside. 

Live in a way that leaves you at peace with all. Walk in the way of forgiveness and reconciliation. 

"Is is for freedom that Christ has set us free" - Galatians 5:1a