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

Time flies... doesn't it?

What does time mean to you?


Time is a bird which leaves its footprints
At the corner of your eye.
Time's a jockey, racing horses,
The sun and moon across the skies.
Time's a thief, stealing your beauty,
Leaving you with tears and sighs.
But if you waste time trying to catch him,
Time's a bird and time just flies.
  -  Valerie Bloom


Time has been segmented into seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years (etc.), but really all there has ever been is a moment and that moment is what has been, what will be, and what is right now. I often wonder what I would do without deadlines. If I weren't hurried to finish essays by a certain date, or didn't have to be at the station by a specific minute. If I lived in a place without watches, where the sun was the only atmospheric movement detectable, and physical decay was the only sign of ageing...


[   Looking out from the wooden deck we could see the driveways and garage to the left, and grass leading from it rise up on a slight incline and over a small hill within which stood three horses. One was grazing near the fence and the other two were moseying, one in front of the other. Each step seemed synchronised with a lulled heartbeat, their bodily weight shifted from hoof to hoof, and their tails swished effortlessly in the temperate heat. As we indulged in the sight the man we were standing with pointed to the pair and said "Now I believe that is the pace in which we were all meant to live." ]


We can not venture into the past except through our memories and keepsakes. We cannot go into the future except by dreaming and scheming. 
   We can not live in the moment if we are caught up in what went before, nor can we appreciate what we have if we are in want for something more.

   Time means a lot of different things to me. Over the past few years I have witnessed a life at it's end, and have also seen a new life come into existence. For me, time is not measured in how long I have left but how far I have left to go. 

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.

More than words.

"Saying I love you is not the words I want to hear from you. It's not that I want you not to say, but if you only knew how easy it would be to show me how you feel, more than words is all you have to do to make it real; then you wouldn't have to say that you love me 'cause I'd already know." [v1. to 'More Than Words' by Extreme]

   As humans we are forgetful people with low self esteem, we need constant reminders of others approval towards us through 'likes', 'retweets', a constant flow of human interaction, physical proof of our accomplishments or material goods to remind us of our success. It sometimes seems that no matter how much we know or have we need more, and we need reminders of it. The same can often be applied to relationships, even if we've heard 'I love you' from someone before we need to hear it again - just in case it's the last time you get to hear it, or to check that they still do love you. If someone offers their hand 'if there is ever a need', there is often hesitation in taking them up on it - even when you know you would do the same and more vice versa. We are a forgetful and distrusting people. I'm not going to tell you to say sweet somethings to at least 10 people today, rather, don't overuse phrases like 'I love you' or 'I'm sorry'. Yes, use them abundantly but when you do - make sure mean, and show it, afterwards."Let your yes be yes and your no be no." Don't cry wolf, be sincere.

   We wouldn't need verbal reminders if our actions displayed these sentiments truly.

   As Christians we say we live by faith, not by sight. We say we love our neighbour as ourselves. Jesus first, Others second and Yourself last is the only way to achieve true Joy...
   We may say we live by faith but we overly worry about situations, waiting for outcomes or hints of the answers we want to the prayers we offer up to Him. We say we understand the concept of loving our neighbour but we talk about each other in spiteful tones behind each other's backs and segregate ourselves, we forget that we can still Love someone with opinions different to ours. We know how to have J.O.Y., but we want things now, we want things fast, and we get frustrated at others' sufferings or poorer abilities than ours hindering us. We forget the fruits Jesus told us about, of patience, kindness, generosity and self control.

   On a bitter sweet note, one thing I cannot stand is insincerity; When Mum died people would say 'I'm sorry for your loss' and I often wondered what they meant, really. I don't doubt that most people really were sorry that we would no longer have Mum with us - every day, those who knew her know just how much was taken. They were perhaps sorry that we would not have her by our side for family occasions and the other 'big' events. But I did wonder what some people meant by it, if they merely uttered the phrase because they thought it was the right thing to do. And that can be Ok, I get the sentiment of wanting to say the right thing in a can-be-awkward situation but for me I sometimes saw it as fake in a time calling for utmost humility. Death is a part of life, it's the one thing we can all count on inevitably, so why should we have such a problem with accepting and talking about it? [Pretty much the whole reason for my book.]


   So why do we say things and not live by them? Tell people we love them but forget to show them love. If only we didn't have the choice to go back on our word. If only we understood that we really don't have that choice if we are to be honourable, to live and Love like Him. 

The Sound of Silence.

   There is something quite powerful in silence. Dramatic pauses, ellipses and quizzical pondering make for memorable moments in speech and literature. But what of life?
   Today I was reminded of the silence, the calm, which comes after the storms and trials of life. Some struggles amount to mere pot holes in the path on which you have walked through life; you look back at them, triumphant. Others make as diversion signs, making you go in a different direction, and maybe one day you understand why. But there is storm that will come which will tear up all ground around you and make it so you can no longer continue on your journey, indefinitely.
   There is a school of philosophy which professes that our life is defined through our motional experience. Meaning that your 'life' is a movement. From when you stirred in your mother's womb to the last time your chest rests from breath, you would have moved on the earth continuously in bounds, strides, sways and tumbles. I find this fascinating, and for analogy's sake wonder if the idea could be stretched past motion and into sound so that our whole life is, in effect a song, and when it ends - there is silence.
   Upon finding out that one of my school friends passed away yesterday morning, I felt a calm creep into my mind. Anxieties and excitements for the week, trivial thoughts for the day and just about everything else seeped into an abyss and I sat, surrounded by silence. I regretted not keeping in touch more since we left school two years ago, I was sad I hadn't heard more of her illness to be there for her, I was heartbroken for her family and close friends to have lost so much so soon, I tried to process the thought of never being able to see her laugh again. I know that she was with her family until the end, and she had many friends who were with her through it all, and I am thankful for the good memories I have of her from past school days.
   I am reminded that we are here just a moment before we move on, we need to love each other while we can. It shouldn't take death to realise that we have a life worth cherishing, but so often it does. Even considering the death of my Mum last year, it still shocks me at how short life can really be. I know of so many who are going through life and death trials and it makes me feel useless not being able to change the outcomes. I understand that death is a part of life but, sometimes, I wish it really wasn't.

How do you know when you're in LOVE?

   I KNOW you're all dying to hear what Dad and I have been up to so far on our travels across the pond but we've done a lot and it'll take some time (especially picking out which pictures to show!) so you'll have to hold your horses a wee bit longer.

   I did, however, want to share with you something rather specific. We arrived in Henderson on Tuesday evening - staying with a couple Steve and Marie, the latter of which I would like to be able to say was inspiration for my Mum's nickname for me, 'Shelly Marie', but I'm not sure. We'll stick with that story though, as she is a wonderful woman, and an honour to be named after!

   On Wednesday morning we went to Freed Hardeman's chapel, before we were due to depart for Searcy that afternoon. The man doing the devotional at the chapel was really good, very well spoken and gave quite a lovely address. I will share with you what he said, in the hope you will also receive some of the same warm fuzziness in your heart that I did upon hearing his words...

   His task was to answer the question 'How do you know when you're in love?' A rather wonderful question which leads to so many prolific answers it is often considered rhetorically, without much conclusion. But this man seemed to have a pretty good answer...

   He said "It depends what kind of love you're talking about - brotherly love, family love, romantic love..." He went on to describe the feeling of being 'in-love', the butterflies, moist palms, heart-racing, gut-clenching feeling upon seeing, holding or even meeting that special someone. He asked "can it be real?" The feeling itself, of course, everyone who has experienced this will agree. But 'how real' it is, is what he moved on to talking about. "If it changed, does it get less?" Well, that depends on how it changes.
   He said LOVE, not 'love' is an "emotion, devotion and action". He Biblically expresses that you "can not serve two masters" because if you serve - if you devote yourself IN action - one thing or person, you can not do wrong to them even if you feel otherwise inclined. This is LOVE.
   He explains that to LOVE we must "Do good to them in spite of ourselves... It's a feeling, but it's your choice what you do with it."

"Some days you wont feel in love, but you don't stop loving... You never have the right to not act right."

We looked briefly at 1 Corinthians 13. 
He said you are 'in LOVE': "When everything you do is for their highest good. When you're willing I be patient and suffer with them, being kind. When you're willing to lift them up to your detriment. When you put them first, being kind and gracious to them no matter what."

"It doesn't matter what they do, you're responsible for what you do."

"When it gets past the emotion... You'll be well and truly on your way knowing that it's the real thing baby 'uh hu hu'..." He ends in a jovial tone, that last bit sounding like Elvis. It was a gooood chapel service.

    We arrived safely in Searcy on Wednesday and Thursday morning we went to the Harding chapel service. This was brilliant, given by one of the students. I shall tell you all about it later, it leads quite well into one of the points made a minute ago... 
   On a personal note - Today would have been Mum's 51st Birthday, had she still been on this earth. Dad mentioned it in his lesson in Church this morning and I found myself crying a bit in public for the first time in a wee while. It still hits me that she's not coming back in the strangest of ways. It is still foreign to me that she won't have any more Birthdays. And I'm still getting used to the idea that she's already with us, and that she is ok.


Peace and love, as always.

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.

Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get.

Life is ever changing, ever challenging; but God is my constant, my consultant and always my comforter.

   Psalm 102:27 "But you are the same, and your years have no end."

I once had a long talk with someone who said they could not believe in a God who did not change his law to accommodate for today's society. I told them plainly that I could not believe in a God who did. People haven't changed, I am convinced of this. The struggles of man have not changed because the human heart has not changed, it is merely the circumstances within which these sins take place that has. If God changed his law it would not be fair to those who first followed, there would be no real standard to live up to. I digress from the point - God is everlasting, God is constant, because we need him to be.

   'Things' don't get easier. I believe this; I believe that we just become better at dealing with them. As much as I would like to be in a comfortable position in relation to my relationships, studies, work, dreams, I am not. But, as always, I find myself learning to thank God for all that has been, is and will be, and to evaluate myself and the roles I play in my life.

   A passage (that was a memory verse at Camp Tayside this year) reminds me of the place of serenity, joy and peace that I hope to achieve within my life.

^"12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. ¹³ I can do all this through him who gives me strength."

            Philippians 4:12-13

This next bit is on a poster in the office of the house I'm living in and it speaks volumes compared to what I could say on here, on the realities of life lessons.

The World is our Classroom

I’ve learned that most of the things I worry about never happened. -age 64

I’ve learned that every great achievement was once considered impossible. -age 47

I’ve learned that you can’t hide a broccoli in a glass of milk. -age 7

I’ve learned that if there were no problems, there would be no opportunities. -age 19

I’ve learned that it doesn’t cost anything to be nice. -age 66

I’ve learned that the important thing is me. -age 38

I’ve learned that even the simplest task can be meaningful if I do it in the right spirit. -age 72

I’ve learned that in every face-to-face encounter, regardless of how brief, we leave something behind. -age 45

I’ve learned that whenever I decide something with kindness, I usually make the right decision. -age 66

I’ve learned that if you spread the peas out on your plate, it looks as if you ate more. -age 6

I’ve learned that regardless of colour or age, we all need about the same amount of love. -age 37

I’ve learned that education, experience, and memories are three things that no one can take away from you. -age 67

I’ve learned that motel mattresses are better on the side away from the phone. -age 50

I’ve learned that the simple things are often the most satisfying. -age 63

I’ve learned that if you want to cheer yourself up, you should try cheering up someone else. -age 13

I’ve learned that successful living is like playing the violin – it must be practices daily. -age 70

I’ve learned that I’ve learned that if you laugh and drink soda pop at the same time, it will come out of your nose. -age 7

I’ve learned that a sunroof is worth the extra cost. -age 29

I’ve learned that optimists live longer than pessimists. That’s why I’m an optimist. -age 84

I’ve learned that happiness is like perfume; you can’t give it away without getting a little on yourself. -age 59

I’ve learned that when someone hurts your feelings, it’s unimportant unless you persist in remembering it. -age 68

I’ve learned that that there’s no elevator to success. You have to take the stairs. -age 48

I’ve learned that if you smile at people, they will almost always smile back. -age 81

I’ve learned that homemade Toll House cookies should be eaten while still warm. -age 29

I’ve learned that we grow only when we push ourselves beyond what we already know. -age 53

I’ve learned never to underestimate the potential and power of the human spirit. -age 82

I’ve learned that everyone has something to teach. -age 51

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.

The Mean Reds and Blue Suede Shoes. (Chapter Ideas)

Mean Reds

Holly Golightly: You know those days when you get the mean reds? 
Paul Varjak: The mean reds, you mean like the blues? 
Holly Golightly: No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling? 
Paul Varjak: Sure. 
Holly Golightly: Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name!


     The Mean Reds seem to hit me sometimes and when they do, it's bad. I love the film 'Breakfast In Tiffany's' and the expression 'Mean Reds' has been so relevant to me in the past year. Sometimes I get afraid, and not knowing exactly why makes it even worse. 
      The weeks that surrounded Mum's death were filled with worry and re-evaluation of my life. What did I want in the long term? - a husband and family, a career, big house, pets, loving community around me. Then the question - why don't I have it now? The fear of never getting to 'where I want to be' drove me to assess life changing decisions I had made, questioning if there may have been a better path for me to take. On deciding I had done what was best, from what I knew at the time, I was comforted - but it is a question that I have revisited continuously over these past 8 months. There have been times when it seemed my life was getting 'back on track', things were working out well and I was happy. Yet a lingering doubt has kept contentment at bay for a while now, but I'm beginning to feel it's warmth. 
      The decision to take a year out from my studies was an idea at first which led to blessed circumstances making it a reality. My relationships with family have grown deeper, friends have become more dear to me and I am learning to take care of myself in what I need and not just what I want. The 'Mean Reds' to me is a term akin to doubt, uncertainty, weariness and loneliness. These feelings are often consumers of Faith and Hope, and even unconditional Love.
      When the 'Mean Reds' strike I have often turned to my Dad who will tell me that 'It's going to be OK'. These are magical words which I heard so often as a child from my Mum when I cried over boys or mean girls. Feeling childlike is something I am experiencing more and more, especially when things aren't working as I hadn't planned. Being humbled daily by reliving uncontrollable events, I learn that I can't do everything alone, and sometimes I do need to rely on others. All of these symptoms put together give me a growing understanding of what it means to be a Child of God. Being a Child of God means it's ok to be afraid, but knowing that God is always there when we feel alone, knowing that he is in control and has a plan when our own attempts fail, knowing that he is stronger than us and stronger than our problems, knowing that through him anything is possible.

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Philippians 4:13

Blue Suede Shoes

     Blue Suede Shoes are those things you just can't handle being stood on, even though anything else is ok; as Carl Perkins wrote and Elvis infamously sang "You can do anything, but lay off of my Blue Suede Shoes!" I have been forced over these few months to think often about my limits. That which I can tolerate and that which I can't handle. This idea has been creeping around my diary for a while, things that people do or say - or don't say - which make me really want to flip out. Things that before, wouldn't have bothered me. Understanding why my tolerances have changed is interesting for me as well as frustrating because even if I understand it I can't necessarily change it, because changing others is not in my power. After this self-indulgent thought I realise that the problem might not be others, it might just be me, but sometimes changing oneself is the hardest task of all.

     Anyway, my idea for the 'Blue Suede Shoes' chapter is to write up some examples of my altered tolerance, or others' experience with people which have pressed the wrong buttons unexpectedly. The chapter would essentially cover some do's and don't's for those helping grievers, and would try to advise grievers in awkward situations. The problem that I have with the chapter is that no one wants to be told what to do, and especially who am I to instruct people on things I have only experienced for the first time? Another problem I have with it is that it has the potential to be destructive when I only hope to encourage and advise.

     I am hoping that with wise conversation, fervent study and lots of prayer I can give this important topic justice and purpose within my book.

I thank all who take the time to read these ideas, and want to encourage you to give me feedback on what you've read - whether it's advice on how to go about writing on certain things, or stories to share similar experiences.

     God Bless, and I'll keep posting. :]

Summer is nigh...

So my last exam was on Monday and I am really looking forward to this summer! Got a lot lined up, and with me taking a year out of Uni to write and explore I'm finding myself enjoying each day more than the last. Things come into my life that I am blessed to have, opportunities arise that I am proud to be part of, and people surrounding me surprise me from time to time in showing outstanding love.
   The thing that makes me sad is not being able to share it all with Mum.
I wrote this poem a while back and Paddy S used it in his lesson at the Young Adult's Retreat. I wrote a wee statement as well in answer to the question 'How Do You Cope?'
I hope they stimulate thought into appreciating life for what it is, a fleeting, miraculous, blessing.


How do I cope... Well... I don't. I have no choice. Death happens, we are fragile. The only things worth living for are the glories within Salvation and the moments of joy we make with each other.
I move on because I can't move back. I talk, I remember, I dream, I shout, I cry. I cry a lot. In fear of forgetting, and fear of going insane, I talk, I love. I try to be reasonable, though emotions sometimes seem anything but.
I could not do anything without the faith I have of Mum being in heaven - safe, saved. I could not do anything without believing I will one day join her.
Death is hard, but life is difficult.

I ponder on death and I realise that life really isn't much better at all.
I find in my living I am much more forgiving of those dying, answering the call.
I also find in my time, though wounds are not healed, an emptiness lingers within,
Yet that which we create, and resolving not to hate, make the pain and the suffering more dim.
(14/3/2012)



"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." - Romans 8:38-39