Death is nothing at all.

   Not long after coming back from the states I went into the small Christian bookshop we have in Peterborough and saw a poem on a wallet-sized card. It has been in my purse ever since and reading it on Monday it gave me the same hope it did months ago, only this time for someone else.

   In 2010 before I moved up to Dundee for University a woman at the church in Corby made me some pretty bunting to decorate the room in which a dinner was held for me, a 'last supper' as it were. Upon exclaiming how CUTE it was, she let me keep it and it decorated the foyer of my flat in Dundee for a year. She's the type of lady who loves a cuddle and joke, on numerous occasions I recall her coming up to me from behind and pinching my bottom before asking me to spill all the updates of my life, love and otherwise. In my mind she always wears fashionable leather boots (in a UK size 3 or so because she's tiny), a 3/4 length skirt which flares at the end and a cosy coat (because it's always cold when I'm in Corby!). Our conversations are about fabrics as she had a fabric shop in the marketplace for a while. We speak about Mum and how we miss her; the pair of them were the dependable food-makers for events at Corby and when Mum died she took the load herself, even organising the food for Mum's funeral at our request, and she always did a wonderful job.
 I remember her Mother and her Mother's Mother. As I grew up in the church they 'slipped away to the next room' and a few days before Christmas last year she went to join them. On Monday we said goodbye to her earthly body, knowing she is already at peace with her maker. Her three children, husband, Father, sisters and friends are in the same room as you and I, waiting, hoping and praying to see her again soon.


Death is Nothing at All

Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
That, we still are.

Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect.
Without the trace of a shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?

I am but waiting for you.
For an interval.
Somewhere. Very near.
Just around the corner.

All is well.

  - Henry Scott Holland

Hold on when you feel like letting go.

   A passage I have always loved is "Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep," but what happens when people do those things at the same time?

   When Mum passed away, we did not mourn as others mourned. We had Faith that she was not gone, she just relocated, and we will see her again. Our anticipatory grieving had our hearts and minds unravelling for years, but we rejoiced in our hope and in knowing she was no longer suffering. Confusion was particularly prominent the weeks surrounding her death. Last year Dad, Shanae and I celebrated Christmas. We already knew it was going to be different last year with Aubrey and Sara being away on their honeymoon, but without Mum as well, it was quite an awful occasion. We went through the motions, and I clung to our childhood traditions, trying to clasp an essence of festive normality.
   I am reminded of Mum's absence every day and special occasions are times when we would all definitely be together. So whilst preparing for our annual get together, as well as rejoicing with those who rejoice at this time, we will mourn with others who mourn. Like every day, it will be hard. Because I now understand this more, I am aware of others close to me who are struggling this month, and would like to make you aware of them also to keep them in thoughts and prayers.
  
   One of my school friends passed away recently, and I am reminded of another school friend who's brother was found drowned in a river about two years ago.
   We have family friends are going through tough times with the Mother having been diagnosed with terminal cancer in the summer.
   Other friends have just had twins, both in and out of ICU at just a month old today, whilst also caring for their other two children at home.
   Another of my friends feels she can't celebrate Christmas this year, it wouldn't feel right without her Grandfather around; whilst another friend's family will try and celebrate Christmas even though their Mother decided to leave them a few months ago.
   A guy I know is having to face the possibility of getting a prosthetic foot for Christmas this year, he's in constant agonising pain with it but uses his situation to encourage others around him in hospital. A true fighter.
   I read an article about a couple who know their baby is going to die soon after the birth at Christmas. They will have spent just over 9 months with their daughter, the majority of it without seeing what she looks like.
   These are just a few of the situations I am aware of, there are several more I haven't mentioned, including things on the news, and I know you know hundreds more. Whilst some may wish to forget their troubles and anxieties at Christmas time others can not, and must soldier on, knowing they won't have a normal, happy Christmas this year - and maybe not ever again.

   Santa's Grottos, bright lights, red hats and rosy smiling faces, the Christmas hustle and bustle is something which can not easily be escaped for those who may wish to dodge it this year. For those worrying about things other than matching Christmas crackers, well-wrapped gifts, uneven window lights and misspelled greetings cards, my heart goes out to you. I pray that you find a peace in the chaos of the season, I hope you find a joy in today just like any other day and I wish you all the best in whatever you find yourself doing this month.

If you are wanting to do something to help those perhaps not looking forward to the holiday season because they aren't able to celebrate, Shelter and Operation Christmas Child are two great charities which you can look into and maybe even help them along in their quest to spread the love.

There's no goodbyes here...

So this year has been insane. As you probably know - Dad and I are heading out to America - TOMORROW. Yes, the time has come, as it always does eventually. I have some diary accounts coming your way soon, leading up to Mum's departure. So as my Father and I depart from this country it is strange to have said goodbye to everyone, even for just 7 weeks. Wee Eli Duncan will be so big by the time I get back and it's hard even knowing I'm not able to see him grow and flourish with his cheeky personality in this time. Thinking of this, I can't imagine how hard it would be to say goodbye to everyone you knew - forever - so how about 'See you soon', because in one way or another it's true.

   Watching 'The Bucket List' the other day this issue of 'time to say goodbye' comes up. Morgan Freeman's character quotes that 96% of those asked would prefer not to know their date of death. I conquer with that 96% sometimes, feeling it would only make me worry and limit the ambition and freedom I have, other days I lean towards the other 4%, wanting to know just how long I have to make the impact I want to make. But - why wait? Whether you know or not - If you have something worth doing, do it now! 

   I am a passionate person, and sometimes I can make decisions rashly but it is not for lack of thinking. Quite the opposite. I weigh decisions for doing and for not doing something and I always get back to this feeling of mortality - our time on this earth is limited, but we have never ending opportunities to make our mark if only we would get the courage to take them.

   When I wrote these entries I only knew what I was told from what the Doctors could tell of my Mum's situation. Read, and I'll conclude... 

[[

Saturday 17th September 2011

   Last night Dad rang and told me Mum is in critical condition.

The doctors say that is Aubrey and Sara are serious about wanting Mum at their wedding then they might want to think about bringing it forward. I think they mean that she might not last the winter.

The doctors asked Mum if her heart stopped, would she want them to resuscitate her?

    She said “No”.

But who would want to go through this again? Who could?

So Mum may not see Aubrey get married after all. Nor me, or Shanae. She may not see any grandchildren.

    I may bury my Mum before my 21st Birthday. What about my 20th? Will this be our last Christmas? Was this our last Summer?

Do I quit Uni? She could have 2 more years at least - who knows?

    God knows. I wish he’d tell me…

I’d have to pay my rent still, if I quit Uni. And tax. And my overdraft. Financially it doesn't make sense. But again, how can you put a price on memories of your Mother...

I’m going home the weekend of the 23rd/24th, and also the weekend after that for her 50th Birthday.

    So much planning. So much travel - Time, money...

Hassle? Never.

Just is.

Craig is with me this weekend, so I’m not alone. Going to his tonight, coming back here Monday.

I don’t want to get married, or have children, or grow old, without her. I don’t know if I can.

I don’t want to have to close her eyes. I don’t want her to go. Even if it’s to a better place.

-------

September 17th 2011 21:06

Spoke to Mum briefly on her phone next to her bed in hospital. 

She said “I Love You. Always remember that.” 

She said 'Always', as if she won't be here to tell me herself...

She speaks with whisps, I can’t really hear her well.

She says she doesn’t know what God has planned for her. Neither do I.

]]

   Mum didn't make her 50th, or my 20th, and that was our last summer. When I first re-read that entry, after the fact, I burst into tears, my chest clamped over my heart and I physically hurt with a stabbing pain. Utter shock that mere days could change my world so much, and I re-evaluated my life plan. What I dreamed of having eventually - husband, children - I wanted instantly and thought 'Why wait? We might not have time to wait!' Whilst this is true, I have remembered that patience is a virtue, and everything will happen in God's time if only we let Him. 

   Let go and let God. And if you can't make a decision based on his Word then follow your heart, and let Him guide you from there.

That might be the best advice I ever give you, so you might want to make a note.

I don't know where I will be, who I will be with or what I will be doing for my 21st this year - thought I'd slip that reminder in - in November... But I know I'll be sound in knowing wherever I am God will be with me, and my friends and family won't be far behind. 

 *   *   *   *   *   *

   I'll tell you about our trip more when we actually start it. Though 'til then, here is a ROUGH outline of where we'll be going...

Some days are good days, others are what you make of them.

   I said I would be typing up diary entries from a year ago and here's the next one, from a year ago today, which is my parent's Anniversary.

   They are the best parents anyone could ever ask for. You may disagree and say I'm biased - I am - but it's still true.

[[

Facebook status: ‘Ah pathetic fallacy, true for me in Dundee…’ (Dull, cold and dreary)
 

Night of 15th September 2011 

   Having had a power cut - *TV Shrine* with Anna - I rang Aubrey, who’s visiting Peterborough at the moment, finally got through to Dad’s mobile as they weren’t answering the home phone at 10.30pm! - Turns out Mum is in hospital. Papworth.
    She’s not good.
Worst she’s ever been, even Dad admits it.
    Dad says he thinks the doctors are beside themselves. He thinks the next thing they’ll do, if they can’t do anything else, is say ‘make her comfortable’.
    At the same time, he says it’s not a call to round up the family for last orders, but it’s pretty serious.

“I’m coming down next weekend.”
    “I don’t want you to miss classes.”
“I’m coming.”
    “I understand.”

I would do anything for Mum to be happy.

   She’s got a tube in her neck for something to lower her potassium(?!) and her kidneys are kerplunk. And they did some blood tests on her today, but a tube up her artery and it hurt her. Dad says Mum had just wanted to forget it all and go home. I totally understand that. Dad kept saying that the only thing that gives him hope is knowing that this isn’t it. He said “her condition isn’t certain - in this world at least.”
    So true.

Today was their 27th Anniversary. 15th September 2011. 27 years of marriage. <3 Best parents ever. And they really are.

   I almost wish I could be angry at her for something, so it wouldn't seem so cruel...
    -Almost.

But she is so blameless, so true. It’s just life.

Fragility, mortality, sickness, lack of something or another…
    Not her, it’s just her body.

They were meant to go to the Theatre tonight, but had to cancel. Dad said “Well, at least we got to a theatre” (surgery).
    Funny man.
Well, we all have to be, don’t we.
]]

This year has just been strange. So often I feel like I'm recalling someone else's life whilst living another. I have had some great memories and some great sadnesses, it will certainly be a year to remember. I have learned so much from others through their wisdom, comfort and encouragement, and I sincerely hope I am giving something back in way of experience, inspiration and hope. Whilst many of my posts have light hearted endings, I'm afraid that some may not - as is the way of life. Some days are good days, others are what you make of them.

   Today is the first of my parent's Anniversaries where cards will not be exchanged, nor congratulations given, and it was the first time in 8 months that I visited Mum's grave...

Getting off the bus I feel nervous. I walked to Londis to see if I could get flowers but they've stopped selling them. Down the path, on which I grew up going to school, it suddenly feels like I'm walking to an exam, butterflies in my stomach. The older graves become visible and I give a thought to all those souls I'll never know. Along the path and the moss has disappeared, cleaner stones emerge and I take a moment to consider all the families still affected by these slabs. Even further, nearing the parked cars I swallow the lump in my throat - I can't believe I have to come here to see Mummy.

   She shouldn't be here. She should be at home, her clothes are ready for her, her card making stuff awaits her artistic hand. Walking down the path to get here I clench my jaw to keep me from spluttering tears. 

   A year ago today she went into hospital. Who could have known then I'd be here now? If I had been given a vision of me sitting beside her like this then, I wouldn't have believed it. That her story could end up like this. That 365 days would link one image to the next.

   I should know she is in heaven, I should know that she's not coming back.

   But I just can't believe it. 

And I haven't been that honest with myself until now.

It is hard for me to type this and click 'Publish'. I do so in the hope that maybe I'm helping somebody understand something a little better, whether it be love, life or death. Maybe that somebody is me or maybe it's you, either way I'll keep writing and sharing, and hoping.

Love and peace.

Moving on... or not.

   Today marks 11 months to the day of Mum's death. I don't think I remember a more challenging, interesting and crucial time of my life. So much has happened, and I have the feeling that this will not stop. 
   When I was younger I would hear older people tell me how life 'passes you by' and how getting older only makes it 'go' faster. You never believe it until it happens to you, and over this year I am beginning to realise just how fast time can 'go'. 
   I am sad that I have experienced so much recently and not had Mum to talk to about it. My relationships with those around me have changed so much, many are now the strongest they have ever been. There is a phrase 'when the going gets tough the tough get going' but I would like to challenge this. I think that going isn't necessarily the answer. How about staying instead? I understand that in the phrase going refers to doing, rather than calling it quits. And I do agree with this. But in some cases we can use the phrase to justify carrying our problems with us rather than resolving them. I love resolve. It is the reason I love films - good films - TV dramas and books, because although so much happens during the story at the end of it there is a redemption, a resolve. 
   Growing up I could never sleep on an argument. I remember so clearly trying to get to sleep after having had an adolescent tiff with Mum and not being able to settle. I remember at 3am going in to wake Mum up and tell her I was sorry, and that I loved her, and going straight back to bed. I am useless when it comes to holding a grudge. I don't see the point, no good can come from it because nothing is solved by it.
   This being said when I hear the phrase 'when the going gets tough the tough get going' I am reminded that sometimes staying is the right thing to do, sometimes understanding and accepting is the right amount of 'get up and go'. Or maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm scared at how much time has passed without Mum already and I want to stop going to try and retain a little sanity in knowing she isn't that far behind. But I can not stop time, if I could, I probably would - and that isn't the best advice. 
   This month ahead of me brings the last in a first year of Weddings, Birthdays and Christmases celebrated without her. After this landmark it will be considered 'normal' to be without her, so sue me if I would like it to last a little bit longer.

RE: Peace, Perfect Peace

As I have finished my studies for the year I no longer feel the 'impending doom' pressure and hence have no need for procrastination... In saying this, my journey now is one of self assurance and discovery - not in the middle-class cheesy 'I'm finding myself' way, I know where I am, I'm here. What I seek is much bigger than myself, it is as big as humanity as a whole. What I want to find (and have been successful already) are life lessons, to share, putting my own bit in about my personal experiences as well.
   One of my friends Sophia has started a blog and upon reading her entry 'Sincerely Sophia: Dear Peace, Perfect Peace' I was inspired. It reminds me of a familiar feeling I have had over my short life so far and also of a poem I wrote a few years ago. When I started reading the post I totally agreed with everything she was saying - talking about the thrill of the chase in life, and the restlessness which can come once said goal is reached, be it to a romantic, educational, personal or professional end.
   A passion of mine, where my 'thrill of the chase' is categorised, is in passion itself. I am a passionate person. I love music. I love art. I love literature. I love being right. I love making others feel good. I love others making me feel good. I love people. There is nothing wrong with any of these things. I enjoy accomplishing something, fixing a problem or solving a puzzle. But what happens when it is got, fixed, solved? Do we take it and shove it to the side, move on to the next thing? Do we grumble at how easy it was and how fast it went, even whilst we had been trying in the first place we were frustrated at how hard it made us work? A lot of the time, yes, we do.
   Over these past 11 months - yes, it HAS almost been that long - I have learned to appreciate everything. The dreaming, hoping, praying, planning, starting, failing, trying again.. This is what most of our lives will consist of; working 9-5, 5/7 to get something to do something else, and it can be thrilling, challenging, fulfilling. But when something ends because it is finished, it is beautiful. God rested on the seventh day, looked at what He had done, and saw it was very good. Shouldn't we take the time to do the same? Even when the time for something comes to an end and we think it wasn't time because it wasn't perfect, we weren't finished, it was not complete; think of what you are actually left with, and be thankful for that.

   I am trying to cover such a vast array of subjects by saying 'something', as I think so many can apply in this situation. I think about school projects which I remember working away to complete into the small hours of the morning, handing them in not quite finished but I know I had tried my best. I think about holidays which are always more exciting to look forward to but I am left with wonderful memories to look back on when they are over. I think about relationships which didn't work out, but see how we each grew from them for the future. I think about those who's time was cut short on this earth and marvel at the works they did when they were here. It is not always up to us to decide when something starts or finishes. We are made in God's image so we have a natural urge to want to create and control, but this also means we are made to appreciate the perfect peace, the calm after the storm, so we need to let ourselves do so.

   Since my Mother passed away last September I have been in a kind of limbo where I have tried to figure out what should happen next. I have no answer for you there, nor for myself. The only thing I can think of to do is to keep going - whatever that means. I did not decide to write a book or this blog, it just kind of happened and it gave me an escape and a way to think about things, so I went with it. 

   I am realising now that I immediately started looking ahead, I didn't give myself time to appreciate what had been. I don't know the whole of my Mother's life story, I don't know what her favourite book was. I don't know what hopes and dreams she had growing up, I don't know what her bucket list consisted of... But I do know who she was, what she did and how she loved, and they are the most important things. I will find out everything as time goes on, I will give myself time to be sad in missing her, and I will make the time to reminisce with my family and friends about her for the rest of my life.

   With today's advanced technology and our familiarity with instant gratification the idea of 'meditation' can seem like such an effort, and for what? In reality, if we don't give ourselves time to process what has been we can't possibly be ready to indulge into new challenges because we wouldn't have really learned anything.
   So... give yourself a break -have a Kitkat, or a Snickers or Dairy Milk, whatever. Think about what you have accomplished in your life, be proud of what you can be, and learn from that which you would change. Remember, appreciate and enjoy; catch a glimpse of that perfect peace which will help keep you afloat when all around you feels chaotic. We can only ever do our best, but we must always make sure that it is our best. 

It's the thought that counts.

I have been blessed to know so many people so much better than I did before I had an experience of Death. I feel kind of like Harry Potter did, in J.K. Rowling's 5th book of the series Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, when he realised the carriages which annually took them from the train station to the school were actually pulled by Thestrals, a magical, skeletal horse creature who are invisible except to those who have "seen death".

Harry Potter: "What are they?"

Luna Lovegood: "They're called Thestrals. They're quite gentle, really... But people avoid them because they're a bit..."

Harry Potter: "Different. But why can't the others see them?"

Luna Lovegood: "They can only be seen by people who've seen death." 

No matter your opinion of the book, or author, Rowling makes a decent comparison with society and social interaction. That is that it is hard to understand that which has not yet been experienced. This is true of everything, but especially when it comes to Death, because everyone is different. It is also all the more true about Death because it is the one thing that EVERYONE has in common and speaks most little about. I am aware that the reasons for this vary from indifference to terror, but the inevitability of such a thing should make it the one thing to be most clear about in life. One of the main reasons for me writing this book (and blog) is so that people can be encouraged to talk about the real things.

   One of the good things that has come from my family's tragedy is that I have had so many amazing conversations with all sorts of people about family, life, death, spirituality, and God, that I maybe wouldn't have had the chance to before having similar experiences myself. My aim is to write so that someone else can start a conversation about death or another of life's challenges in order that we may grow together and no longer be afraid. Ambitious, I know.
 There is nothing worse in a social situation than awkwardness. Whether situations are good or bad, as long as those involved are on the same page, you know what to do. When people have differing ideas of what's going on or what should be done - that is when real problems arise. This is one of the main issues when it comes to grieving, between those who are directly affected and those with whom they come into contact with.

   From my experience (and I can only speak for myself here) I've realised that I don't care what people say, as long as they're honest. One of my favourite passages of scripture is Romans 12:9 which says "Let love be genuine". I'm sure I've quoted it before but - as I will write about later - we always need reminded of the important things. I could (and will at some point) sit and write down some interesting situations I've been put into over these past months - or years even - when people have struggled with what to say to me when they find out my Mother is in a wheelchair, chronically ill, or dead. I have been hurt, humoured and honoured by people's words. I have always believed that words can often affect more than actions, they can touch your heart or break it, for they are representations of people's truths. By that I mean that the words which you use represent your emotion, your feeling, your motive, your love. It is for this reason that there are no right words to say, to a grieving Widower or a bereaved child, except that there are words said, and that they are genuine. The thing that matters most is showing the person that you care, which is why silly words are better than none at all - saying 'I don't know what to say' is always better than avoidance. I don't even know what to say when it comes to comforting someone in grief, and I'm trying to write a book on it!
   The point of all of this is that we should learn from each other, as I expressed in my last post ("I've learned that..."), and we should stop being afraid of each other. Honesty is the best policy and, to me at least, it's the thought that counts when it comes to saying the 'right thing'.

Living on a prayer...

[28th June 2012]

I was just reading The Shack by William P. Young (2007) and there was a part that really struck me, especially since everything that I’ve been thinking about this past week. It’s about prayer, confession, honesty and trust. The passage is on page 106 from the middle to the end. It’s about Mack telling God about how He acts as if it’s the first time they’re hearing things when His children pray to Him, even though He knows everything already. It is explained that when you go to God, He lets you tell Him things from your perspective. As He did with Jesus, He limits Himself to have relationship with you, coming down to your level - as you would to a child joining in with a drawing. Whilst this may not be true at all it is an interesting idea. The idea that God limited Himself for the benefit of His creation, us, is astonishing. The idea that He lets us tell Him things from our perspective, is seriously thought provoking.

   I have been in Brussels for the past week I’ve had so much fun meeting new people, seeing new places, trying new things, and also enjoying doing nothing in particular somewhere just different from home - wherever that may be. 

   I have tried to get my head and heart clear, sorted out, because just when you think things are going to get easier they go crazy complicated on you. I tried to revamp myself and decide what I want, now I have the freedom to do anything job/volunteer/travel wise. The answers I’ve discovered? None. Other than I’m shorting myself if I think that I can’t do something; and I’m kidding myself on by thinking I’m OK. Yesterday was the 9 month mark of Mum’s death. 9 months. That’s 9 months too long, 9 months too empty, even though so much has happened since then.

   I find that if I talk to God, a lot of the time I say things like ‘you know how I feel’ or ‘you know what I want’. So many ‘you know’s but do I even know? I think I say ‘you know’ because He does know but maybe also to excuse me from saying what I really want, or telling Him how I really feel. I wonder if it’s because I don’t want to, or because I really don’t know myself.

   Maybe I think that if God already knows, I don’t have to confess certain things, I don’t have to figure out what I want myself. But what if God were there, waiting to hear what we think? Then we’d have to know, we’d have to say something, we’d have to share our lives with Him, we’d have to share ourselves with Him - as we promised when we were baptised. 

   God can only help me as much as I let Him, and that doesn’t necessarily mean I allow Him to make miracles or look out for a sign - what if, in fact, it means truly thinking about my faults, my iniquities, my weaknesses and figure out a way to battle them with His strength. Surely that makes more sense as a working relationship, rather than me praying ‘you know what I feel, you know what I need, you know what I want, Amen.’ Maybe God does know, but I’ll bet He’s waiting to hear it from me.

Home is where the Heart is...

   As I am taking a year out from my University studies, I am needing to live somewhere other than my student flat. A couple from church (Bernard and Shirley) kindly offered their home and I gladly accepted. When I was packing my stuff up to move it was so strange. I felt sad that I was leaving my flat but at the same time I was so happy. When I was at Bernard and Shirley’s unpacking and putting stuff away it was so much fun. I have my own room (their eldest daughter's old room) and so much space to put my things.

   I’m finding I can easily make a space my own. When I moved into the city flat I quickly took to hanging stuff up - posters, canvases, bunting, plaques, pictures; placing colour coding nicknacks, homely touches and candles about too… Anna was pleasantly surprised when she came back for term starting, I had made decent contribution to the flat, on top of her splash-out of 4 navy blue blankets for the sofas! It hasn’t always been easy for me to feel comfortable in new places, but I am definitely learning that home is where the heart is.

   Mum never saw my flat in Dundee and I think that makes it easier to move. Mum imagined me in a space depicted by photographs and I guess now she has seen where I lived, and where I will live in the future too. It is hard doing new things without being able to tell her all about it, but I know she knows everything now, and I will say more on this in posts to come. She will be happy that I am living in a caring home. A family home. A warm home.


   Moving reminded me of Christmas last year. The idea that ‘Home is where the Heart is’ was on my mind so prominently a few months ago, and it was frightening to feel that when the biggest heart is taken away, a place can cease to be homely. It was so hard at Christmas being home in Peterborough. There were times when I literally wanted to just up and leave, get away from the unfamiliar space. It suddenly felt so alien, without Mum. Our house in Peterborough is lovely, it is the only home I have ever known living with my whole family, for almost 20 years now. I grew up there, in it resides my childhood and my adolescence. So many memories. And up until the end of September, all with Mum. She loved the ‘Beautiful Homes’ magazines, going through the pictures of the different decors ‘ooh’ing and ‘ah’ing at the different furnishings or wall hangings. She loved to decorate the house, always had something else to do, which in her last years never got done for one reason or another. She was very much into crafts, making cards, painting plaques, knitting, the house is full of her creations, each with some loving or Christian message or cute picture. It was heart breaking to see her hand and character on display in every room, but not herself.
   The house felt empty. Even with Dad, my sister and myself, it just felt empty. Kind of cold. Abandoned. It was as if Mum had been there just seconds ago, organising something, putting papers in a specific place, set aside her knitting for a moment and forgotten, never gone back to it. Like when someone takes off their shoe and their footprint still remains, as was our home.

   I met a guy a few years ago, we were both far away from home. When trying to guess where he was from I couldn’t - his accent was a blend of many I’d heard before, as if he had been in many different places for a long time. It was interesting to learn he was a Londoner, but had been traveling across Asia for 6 months at the time.
   It got me thinking though, about where we come from and who we become. Does the person who you have become reflect your roots? Should it? If the answers to these questions are opposites, then change it. On this earth we appear in a place by chance, we are born into a country and a home not of our choice, what we do with the opportunities God gives us after this fact is our own to control. I have learned that family is not everything. LOVE is. It has been said that ‘friends are the family you chose’, but I would also add that family is the family you chose to love. My Mother and Father were always host to strangers visiting the congregation we were part of, some nights us children would sleep on the floor in a room to accommodate people in our beds. This is Family. Sharing yourself and what you have with others, leaning on each other, rejoicing with each other. If Home is where the Heart is then Family is where the LOVE is.

As a Christian I believe that God is LOVE. My Home is not an earthly one. The LOVE I seek is everlasting, given by the One from whom I cannot run.
   I am no longer afraid of going to new places, meeting new people. If I take LOVE with me, I cannot fear anything, I can only LOVE more.

By the way, I do love our house in Peterborough. It is my home away from Home; Our family’s little piece of heaven.

John 14 was the first part of scripture I ever really read and memorised. It was the first place I randomly opened in my Bible one day many years ago, and it has continued to strike a chord in my heart, being an encouragement for the eternal hope I have in Him.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going." [NLT, 1984]

When one door closes, another one opens.

“The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love and to be greater than our suffering.” - Ben Okri

   I moved to Dundee in the summer of 2010 already knowing a lot of people living here. Some in the congregation I was familiar with I had known since I was about 5, some had met me further down my journey of life, and there were of course the friends-to-be.

   I met Jayne in this time, she was 23, had been married for 3 years, and we just clicked. Our friendship grew strong and fast particularly from the summer of 2011, so strong that September 2011 when Mum passed, she said she’d have hopped the very next train to Peterborough to be by my side and help me through it all if I had wanted. We have shared our life stories, confided in each other, laughed and cried together. 

   After Mum’s funeral in October I came back to Dundee and on our first get together after the funeral Jayne sat me down and giddily said she had some big news. I waited a few moments in suspense and she said, almost whispered, to me that she was pregnant - I was ecstatic. We threw our arms around each other and shed a few tears of joy, basking in the wonderful idea of this new baby appearing into this world. She admitted shortly after that she was unsure whether she should mention it so soon after Mum passing, but in all honesty I was thrilled. Relieved. 

   I realised that I was witnessing what is commonly referred to as the Circle of Life. Mum had lived and she died, and here was a new creation of life, right before me. I felt a hope spread through my heart that calmed the longing ache, I was just beginning to understand that it is ok for something to end, because something else always begins at the same time. It is this which initially inspired the line in my poem (posted earlier on): Yet that which we create and resolving not to hate, make the pain and the suffering more dim. 

Welcome to the world Eli Daniel Duncan!

   Similar reflections have come over me throughout these past few months, involving my relationships with those around me. Whilst it is not always good when a relationships ends, it is also often unavoidable. When doors like these close it can open up opportunities to evaluate your time spent with that person, the changes you have made and things you have gone through in that time - in the hope of improving yourself and other relationships you have in the future. I have been through some big changes in my relationships in the past few months, especially noticeable due to my situation and recent struggles. It is crazy that sometimes it is those which you least expect that step up to the plate - and in other cases it is the other way around. I have had to learn to live with some disappointments, a valuable life lesson for anybody, and also be the instigator myself, for my own good. 

   Sometimes going to someone for help and support is harder than just accepting it, but it is also so often necessary if people don’t know what you need.

As a Christian I try to remember to lean on God, though human reassurance can often have a more instant gratification and I rely on people instead of Him. On Sunday it was told that C. S. Lewis had said that by reaching out your hands to others you forget that God was there, loving you from the first. This is certainly something I am working on, and will continue to work on for the rest of my life.

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified [...], for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you." Deuteronomy 32:6

Where there's a will there's a way...

In an episode of 'The Big Bang Theory' I just watched Sheldon - obsessive compulsive genius - wants to go to see the Hadron Collider in Switzerland with his friend Leonard in place of Leonard's girlfriend, Penny. In order to persuade Leonard to take him instead Sheldon directly confronts him several times, pleading his case. He tries to 'butter him up' with breakfast in bed and compliments, then he talks to Penny to plead his case for him. The point is that Sheldon wasn't going to give up on his childhood dream. 
    Another example of this same journey is, romantically, in 'A Walk To Remember' as popular but bad boy Landon Carter falls in love with Jamie Sullivan and wins her heart by becoming a Christian and literally making her bucket list a reality.
    The base line is: if you really want something, you will go to all sorts of lengths to get it. 
The trick is to never give up.


    When God has other plans, however, there seems to be nothing one can do. When it was evident that Mum wouldn't have much time left I was confused. How could this be God's plan? I was angry that he would dare take away such a loving, perfect human being. For what? What good could possibly come from an absence of such good? It didn't make sense. It still doesn't make sense. I couldn't accept that this was what God wanted, yet her passing seemed to be inevitable. I struggled to pray. So many had said they would pray for her to get better, pray for healing and to be honest neither were likely nor were they necessarily the best thing for her. Even if she had recovered fully physically, she would have suffered traumatically, and would have had to go through the same thing again, just later in life.


    In a coincidentally relevant Bible study, before we were rushed down to Papworth in September, we discussed whether things that happen are or are not in God's plan. We then talked about God's will for his people and whether everything that happens is condoned by God. Without thinking one could say of course everything that happens is meant to happen. But that would be the biggest misunderstanding of God's love and his good intentions, for in saying 'yes - everything that happens, God wants to happen' we include death, murder, rape, robbery, mugging and every other bad daily happening, which goes against everything God is. So, God is Love, he is all powerful, yet he doesn't want everything that does happen, to happen? Yes. Bad things happen because man has potential to be evil. Sometimes bad things happen because of a Butterfly Effect of factors, out of anyone's control. But God's control comes in when bad things do happen, because no matter how much you try avoid it bad things will happen. As long as there is free will and sin, bad things will happen. But with God, good can always come out of the consequences of any action. We are getting away from the point a bit, but it is all relevant...
    With this in mind - that not every action is wanted by God, and that he makes goo happen from bad - I began to think about how I was praying. I had been praying for months, years, that Mum would get better, that her illness would disappear from her body and that she be able to take walks with us, go on holiday, to the USA, back to work, even do gardening as she loved. On the other hand I had also been praying that 'your will be done, whatever it is.' 


    In our study we looked at Abraham's encounter with God, before Sodom was destroyed. (I am finding that in study I learn three times as much about 'Bible stories' now than when I first read them, fascinating stuff.) Genesis 18:22-33 tells of how Abraham intercedes for Sodom - in short, he bargains with the Lord to spare the city for even the 10 righteous that might remain there. In other words - he asks God (quite cheekily) to change his plan, if it is possible. 


    This struck me silent. The thought that I could actually come to God and ask him to do what I wanted, seemed far from giving my life to Him. But it makes sense. If you don't ask, you don't get. God knows our hearts, no doubt, he gives all good things, for sure. So asking for our most inward desire, well that just makes sense. I started praying "If it is possible for your will to continue, with Mum alive and well - do that, because I still need her here."


    Whilst it might seem a trivial revelation, in hindsight, at the time it was a wonderful release. 
I no longer felt bad for not wanting what God might be planning, but if His plan to be to take Mum then I was certain that that was what had to happen. A few weeks after the study He answered by taking Mum to be with Him, drifting from the midst of our family to His. And that's OK. (Sometimes it's not OK but that's a different story in sorts.)


    What I'm trying to get at is that if you want something enough, do everything you can to get it. It's even ok to go up against God, to ask Him for what you really want - not just the 'Christian' request of 'your will be done'. It's also OK to stand up for yourself, to tell others what you want and need, something which is also becoming easier for me to do.


'Delight in the Lord and he will grant you the desires of your heart.' Psalms 37:4

Faith.

O for a Faith that will not Shrink.

O, for a faith that will not shrink,

Though pressed by every foe,

That will not tremble on the brink

Of any earthly woe!

That will not murmur nor complain

Beneath the chastening rod,

But, in the hour of grief or pain,

Will lean upon its God.

A faith that shines more bright and clear

When tempests rage without;

That when in danger knows no fear,

In darkness feels no doubt.

Lord, give me such a faith as this,

And then, whate’er may come,

I’ll taste, e’en here, the hallowed bliss

Of an eternal home.

     We sang this song in Church this morning and in singing the words I read them. This might sound like a silly statement but all too often I passively worship in song, singing the words more focused on the tune than the lyrics. Lyrics in everything have completely different meanings now that Mum's gone. A 'lost love' is no longer tragically romantic but heart shatteringly realistic.
     In poetic form, the message really hits home - pun intended, just like the song which says "This earth is not my home, I'm just a'passing through." This earth was not Mum's home, she just passed through, but in doing so she touched so many lives for the better. Songs mean so much to me now, especially this one right now. I have an unshrinking Faith. I'm not saying I'm the perfect Christian or person, or that I haven't struggled with recent events. But I have done it with friends and family by my side, knowing always that God was there too. It's like a 'footprints in the sand' realisation... You are never alone.