I know it's literally been years since I last blogged on here and for that I apologise, but last night I had one of those earth-shattering, life-defining moments where God breaks in and changes your heart forever, and I really needed somewhere to write it down! And it was whilst sat on the floor in the pouring rain with a homeless man and two atheists.
Allow me to set the scene; having spent the evening at Meadowhall shopping centre, I was making my way home through snow and then torrential rain, but when I got to the safety of my bus-stop opposite the cathedral, I noticed a guy sat on the floor outside McDonald's in a hi-viz jacket and shielding his legs from the rain with cardboard. Something in me told me I needed to go and speak to him, so I watched my bus sail past and ventured back out into the rain to go to him.
He was asking for money so he could buy copies of The Big Issue, but being that I had no cash on me, and tend to avoid giving money, I instead offered to buy him a meal. After re-emerging onto the street with a cheeseburger, I sat down on the soggy ground next to him and he told me how he had ended up losing his home and partner, lost all his benefits and now sleeps in a car park by night and begs in the day. His clothes were soaked through, and his face was covered in deep grazes and cuts. We spoke together for a while and I asked him if he'd like me to pray with him.
"Oh yes love, please do. I'm a Christian too." He responded, so I put my arm around him and began to pray. No more than a few seconds in, two men walking down Fargate spotted us and came over. They asked what he was doing out in the rain and he politely responded with an abridged version of what he had just told me. When they turned to me and asked me what I was doing, he replied for me:"She's come to pray with me."
And suddenly the two lads who had come over were telling us that they were atheists, and poured out their lives to us, telling us why they couldn't believe in God; about being in the army and suffering from illness and loss and seeing the cruelty of the world. What came next astounded me. The man sat under a piece of cardboard, without a safe place to sleep, or a change of clothes, or a person he cared about left in his life turned to the man who had been pouring out his pain and said "Pal, you need to meet Jesus. He loves you and he has a plan for your life, and he has a plan for mine." Then he turned back to me. "You carry on praying now love." I finished, in tears, my heart breaking for his situation and his faith. He thanked me profusely and asked for my name. "Ah, Julia. I'll pray for you tonight."
As I left him, still sharing the love of Jesus with those two men, my heart was ripped to pieces and I burst into tears. I stopped because I thought I could help him; that I could show him a bit of who Jesus is. How wrong could I have been? He revealed Jesus to me in a far greater way than any sermon or bible verse has ever managed. I walked away from him having been truly humbled, soaked to the bone and thanking God for the privilege of meeting him, and all that he ministered to me.
Thursday, 21 November 2013
Thursday, 21 July 2011
Mirror, mirror, on the wall...
It's been aaaaaaages since my last post, so I do apologise! This post's going to be a bit different to what I normally talk about on here, but I really felt God putting it on my heart. It's mainly aimed at girls, but guys, don't stop reading, I know you still struggle with this a little bit AND it might help you understand the fairer sex a bit better!
So, recently, I've noticed my clothes have been feeling pretty loose, and my beloved skinny jeans have been all but falling off me... Even my belt is too big when on the last rung, so I relented and took myself jeans shopping. I hate jeans shopping with a passion. It is the second most depressing thing to shop for (the 1st being swimwear), as it normally involves trawling for hours to find jeans that I can shoe-horn my impressively wide hips into, but that'll not be baggy on my legs, and not too long for my very little legs. Even then you have to find the perfect wash, with just the right amount of bleaching/distressing so that they'll be flattering. Buying jeans that fit me has always been near-on impossible. (Fellow hour-glasses will understand my woes). So, I braved the denim-wear section of topshop and began to pick a few pairs.
Now, current said pair of jeans that had become too loose were a size 12, but I thought there was no way I could possibly squeeze my bum into a size 10, especially in Topshop, so I picked up a few 12s, and one size 10 just to see how far off I was. When I got into the changing room, I picked up the 10s, looked at the waist band, looked in the mirror, and thought "HAH. This'll be fun." Amazingly, as I pulled them on, they seemed to fit... But I definitely didn't think I'd get them over my hips... But then I did. And then I thought I wouldn't be able to do them up without a massive fight. But then I did. And then I thought I'd have a massive over-hang and muffin top... But I didn't. I was wearing a pair of size 10 jeans, that were wonderfully comfortable, and fitted perfectly. They were exactly the right length and colour, and I loved them. You cannot begin to comprehend the level of joy I experienced in that changing room at that moment.
I'd walked in feeling overweight and unattractive, and walked out feeling like I was fit enough to run a marathon (luckily reality kicked in before I actually attempted something that silly!) Since then I've been brave enough to try on lots more clothes just to check it's for real, and I've consistently been getting into size 10s, and occasionally even 8s(!) It's made me realise that it isn't so much what size we are, but how we see ourselves that affects how we feel. Which is really stupid.
I know soooo many women who are size 12, 14, 16, 18 and bigger, who I genuinely consider to be stunning. They are beautiful just the way they are, and yet I felt like a whale at a size 12. We're taught to be sooo self critical of ourselves, and are sold the lie that the key to our happiness lies in new clothes, bigger boobs, smaller waist-lines and line-free faces. Marketing and film companies show us that we can't be attractive unless we match up to the standards of perfection that THEY impose on us!!! LIES!
To me, there's nothing more beautiful than someone who radiates love, kindness and joy. That's true beauty. That's the beauty that won't fade. That's the reflection of Jesus. Roots grow out, weight-fluctuates and botox wears off, but the image of Jesus Christ imprinted on someone's heart will maintain it's beauty even when they're 90 and incontinent with all their teeth fallen out.
Self-image has been a constant battle for me for as long as I can remember. I've always been unhappy with my looks, my weight, my personality. I've struggled with low self-esteem, eating disorders, food obsession, make-up addiction... Each time I've slumped, God's spoken the same word over me through numerous different people. "I want you to see yourself through my eyes. I want you to look in the mirror and see what I see." Each time my response has been "God, I KNOW You love me, but I just don't know how to see myself like that." Now I finally get it. God looks at me, and he sees his daughter. Every parent looks at their child and is in awe of them. Every parent thinks their child is beautiful. Now I understand why God sees beauty in me even when I don't. Now I see why my hating myself for so many years broke his heart. Because if I had a daughter who saw herself the way I have seen me, I'd be heartbroken too.
I'm still very much a work in progress. I know I'll still have "fat days", and days that it just won't go right. But I pray that my resemblance of Christ will outweigh any physical imperfections. And besides, I'd rather be old and have laughter lines around by eyes from being too happy all my life, and scars and stretchmarks from having children than be plastic and "perfect" and miserable. I want to eat chocolate and not hate myself for it, and I want to be loved for who I am, not for how hot I am. (I KNOW I'm just way too hot ;P) God's too good for us to let ourselves get in our own way of showing the world His glory.
From this day forward; I love me, love-handles and all, because if I don't I'll never let anyone else do it.
Oh, and you, reading this? You're GORGEOUS :)
Proverbs 31:
25 She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
26 She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
27 She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
28 Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
29 “Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all.”
30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.
31 Honor her for all that her hands have done,
and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.
So, recently, I've noticed my clothes have been feeling pretty loose, and my beloved skinny jeans have been all but falling off me... Even my belt is too big when on the last rung, so I relented and took myself jeans shopping. I hate jeans shopping with a passion. It is the second most depressing thing to shop for (the 1st being swimwear), as it normally involves trawling for hours to find jeans that I can shoe-horn my impressively wide hips into, but that'll not be baggy on my legs, and not too long for my very little legs. Even then you have to find the perfect wash, with just the right amount of bleaching/distressing so that they'll be flattering. Buying jeans that fit me has always been near-on impossible. (Fellow hour-glasses will understand my woes). So, I braved the denim-wear section of topshop and began to pick a few pairs.
Now, current said pair of jeans that had become too loose were a size 12, but I thought there was no way I could possibly squeeze my bum into a size 10, especially in Topshop, so I picked up a few 12s, and one size 10 just to see how far off I was. When I got into the changing room, I picked up the 10s, looked at the waist band, looked in the mirror, and thought "HAH. This'll be fun." Amazingly, as I pulled them on, they seemed to fit... But I definitely didn't think I'd get them over my hips... But then I did. And then I thought I wouldn't be able to do them up without a massive fight. But then I did. And then I thought I'd have a massive over-hang and muffin top... But I didn't. I was wearing a pair of size 10 jeans, that were wonderfully comfortable, and fitted perfectly. They were exactly the right length and colour, and I loved them. You cannot begin to comprehend the level of joy I experienced in that changing room at that moment.
I'd walked in feeling overweight and unattractive, and walked out feeling like I was fit enough to run a marathon (luckily reality kicked in before I actually attempted something that silly!) Since then I've been brave enough to try on lots more clothes just to check it's for real, and I've consistently been getting into size 10s, and occasionally even 8s(!) It's made me realise that it isn't so much what size we are, but how we see ourselves that affects how we feel. Which is really stupid.
I know soooo many women who are size 12, 14, 16, 18 and bigger, who I genuinely consider to be stunning. They are beautiful just the way they are, and yet I felt like a whale at a size 12. We're taught to be sooo self critical of ourselves, and are sold the lie that the key to our happiness lies in new clothes, bigger boobs, smaller waist-lines and line-free faces. Marketing and film companies show us that we can't be attractive unless we match up to the standards of perfection that THEY impose on us!!! LIES!
To me, there's nothing more beautiful than someone who radiates love, kindness and joy. That's true beauty. That's the beauty that won't fade. That's the reflection of Jesus. Roots grow out, weight-fluctuates and botox wears off, but the image of Jesus Christ imprinted on someone's heart will maintain it's beauty even when they're 90 and incontinent with all their teeth fallen out.
Self-image has been a constant battle for me for as long as I can remember. I've always been unhappy with my looks, my weight, my personality. I've struggled with low self-esteem, eating disorders, food obsession, make-up addiction... Each time I've slumped, God's spoken the same word over me through numerous different people. "I want you to see yourself through my eyes. I want you to look in the mirror and see what I see." Each time my response has been "God, I KNOW You love me, but I just don't know how to see myself like that." Now I finally get it. God looks at me, and he sees his daughter. Every parent looks at their child and is in awe of them. Every parent thinks their child is beautiful. Now I understand why God sees beauty in me even when I don't. Now I see why my hating myself for so many years broke his heart. Because if I had a daughter who saw herself the way I have seen me, I'd be heartbroken too.
I'm still very much a work in progress. I know I'll still have "fat days", and days that it just won't go right. But I pray that my resemblance of Christ will outweigh any physical imperfections. And besides, I'd rather be old and have laughter lines around by eyes from being too happy all my life, and scars and stretchmarks from having children than be plastic and "perfect" and miserable. I want to eat chocolate and not hate myself for it, and I want to be loved for who I am, not for how hot I am. (I KNOW I'm just way too hot ;P) God's too good for us to let ourselves get in our own way of showing the world His glory.
From this day forward; I love me, love-handles and all, because if I don't I'll never let anyone else do it.
Oh, and you, reading this? You're GORGEOUS :)
Proverbs 31:
25 She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
26 She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
27 She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
28 Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
29 “Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all.”
30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.
31 Honor her for all that her hands have done,
and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.
Thursday, 21 April 2011
1 new friend request from: Jesus.
People get really down on facebook. Especially people at church. "It's a waste of time" "It takes over your life." "It creates superficial relationships." I have quite a few facebook friends, and I am forever fielding off accusational "but, how many of them are your ACTUAL friends?!" and "do you really keep in contact/want to keep in contact with all those people?!" My honest answer would probably be no. There are some people who I am "friends" with, who I have not seen or spoken to in years. There are people whom if I saw again, I probably wouldn't even recognise, and occasionally, people on my friends list I genuinely can't remember. So why bother?
Whilst my liberal approach to facebook friendships might be criticised by many, it has over the years been the source of amazing blessing. Some of my closest friends for instance, I only had fleeting encounters with, and had we not clicked the respective "add as friend" and "accept" buttons, we would have passed out of each others lives and never seen each other again.
We shouldn't underestimate social networking sites' potential for sharing the gospel; be it with "sharing" links to articles and worship songs, posting an inspiring or challenging quote as our status, or even by expressing our religious views in our bios. My friend told me that they could spend less than a minute on my profile and tell that I'm a Christian. If only I could mirror that in my life so that I stood out so radically.
I don't think Jesus is opposed to facebook. Sure, like anything, when it's misused, or when it starts taking over your life, maybe it's time to re-evaluate, but Jesus was all for meeting people where they were at; getting down on their level. If Jesus was walking the earth today, he wouldn't be lecturing in theological seminary, babbling on about eschatology and hermeneutics; he'd be out on the streets chatting to homeless people, wandering through the red light districts and playing football at the local park with the lads.
When Jesus tried to explain the secrets of the kingdom to his followers, he talked about farming, inheritance and parties: he talked about what they could understand. Because God doesn't care about theology. He just wants his people to know that He loves them. Don't get me wrong, I find theology fascinating, and have many friends who study it, but what I'm trying to get across, is we shouldn't get so academically up ourselves when it comes to God, that we miss the simplicity of the kingdom. Why should we think that we're "too good" to follow the crowd, why should we be above social constructs? Of course we are forgiven and set apart, but we are not elevated, in fact, the very opposite is true: we are humbled by the grace of God. For a while at least, this fallen world is our home, and we have to be "in" it to truly have any impact on it, and the lives of those we come into contact with. The phrase "too heavenly minded to be of any earthly use" springs to mind.
People feel judged and looked down on by the church, so why on earth would they be attracted to it? Judgment doesn't convey Christ's love, and basically means that we're failing as the body of Christ to reach out to a broken and hurting world because we're too scared to get our "holy" hands dirty. What happened to washing each others feet? What happened to loving indiscriminately? It's easy to love those we like, but what about those that repulse us? Can we honestly say we love them?
I want a humble heart and a poor spirit. If God could reduce himself from King of Kings and Lord of Lords, to give up his heavenly throne, be amongst his people on earth, and die on the cross, then I really have no excuse, 'cause I have nothing to boast in other than Jesus Christ anyway.
Whilst my liberal approach to facebook friendships might be criticised by many, it has over the years been the source of amazing blessing. Some of my closest friends for instance, I only had fleeting encounters with, and had we not clicked the respective "add as friend" and "accept" buttons, we would have passed out of each others lives and never seen each other again.
We shouldn't underestimate social networking sites' potential for sharing the gospel; be it with "sharing" links to articles and worship songs, posting an inspiring or challenging quote as our status, or even by expressing our religious views in our bios. My friend told me that they could spend less than a minute on my profile and tell that I'm a Christian. If only I could mirror that in my life so that I stood out so radically.
I don't think Jesus is opposed to facebook. Sure, like anything, when it's misused, or when it starts taking over your life, maybe it's time to re-evaluate, but Jesus was all for meeting people where they were at; getting down on their level. If Jesus was walking the earth today, he wouldn't be lecturing in theological seminary, babbling on about eschatology and hermeneutics; he'd be out on the streets chatting to homeless people, wandering through the red light districts and playing football at the local park with the lads.
When Jesus tried to explain the secrets of the kingdom to his followers, he talked about farming, inheritance and parties: he talked about what they could understand. Because God doesn't care about theology. He just wants his people to know that He loves them. Don't get me wrong, I find theology fascinating, and have many friends who study it, but what I'm trying to get across, is we shouldn't get so academically up ourselves when it comes to God, that we miss the simplicity of the kingdom. Why should we think that we're "too good" to follow the crowd, why should we be above social constructs? Of course we are forgiven and set apart, but we are not elevated, in fact, the very opposite is true: we are humbled by the grace of God. For a while at least, this fallen world is our home, and we have to be "in" it to truly have any impact on it, and the lives of those we come into contact with. The phrase "too heavenly minded to be of any earthly use" springs to mind.
People feel judged and looked down on by the church, so why on earth would they be attracted to it? Judgment doesn't convey Christ's love, and basically means that we're failing as the body of Christ to reach out to a broken and hurting world because we're too scared to get our "holy" hands dirty. What happened to washing each others feet? What happened to loving indiscriminately? It's easy to love those we like, but what about those that repulse us? Can we honestly say we love them?
I want a humble heart and a poor spirit. If God could reduce himself from King of Kings and Lord of Lords, to give up his heavenly throne, be amongst his people on earth, and die on the cross, then I really have no excuse, 'cause I have nothing to boast in other than Jesus Christ anyway.
Tuesday, 12 April 2011
Jesus, You're my super-hero.
Hello blogosphere! I'm sorry, I'm aware it has been quite a while! I'd love to reel of some excuses about being too busy doing lots of worthwhile stuff, but I'm afraid I just couldn't really be bothered/wasn't feeling particularly inspired. Woops.
Anyway, I'm back now, so thought I'd share what God's been teaching me recently.
Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." (Matthew 19v14)
Anyone who knows me, will know that I love children. They inspire me. There's an innocence, naivety, and joy in a child's eyes, that seems to mostly be all but disappeared by the time we reach our pre-teens. And that's sad.
Over the past two years, I've grown up a lot. I got a job, applied for university, signed a contract on a house(!), and now I have to contemplate exams, bills, saving money, how we're going to delegate chores, and am facing the reality of moving out of the home I've lived in for 18 years with my family, to go up North and try and survive on my own(ish). I've realised why I love kids so much. Grown-ups are boring.
And that's why Jesus loves children too. They aren't cynical, they don't have worry and stress, they haven't learnt that some things are supposed to be "impossible". They believe in miracles, they believe in goodness, and they love unconditionally. If you offer a child a present, for no reason, they will be delighted, and run off in glee. If you offer an adult a present, for no reason, they will either turn it down, or grow suspicious of what the catch may be.
"I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." (Mark 10v15)
God loves the simplistic faith of children. Personally, I love hearing kids pray. I pray with my ten year old sister a lot, and she's so much better at it than me. She's not afraid to ask for the "impossible"; she's ambitious in her prayers, and she's never shy with God. She doesn't tip-toe round things to try and be polite like we do. What's the point? God knows our hearts, we may as well just be real with Him, and pray that He'll change the parts of our hearts that don't fit what we are called to be. I read an interview with Jim Wallis the other day, and he described a prayer his 10 year old son prayed: "I pray for all the children who are going to die tomorrow. I pray they won't die."
That's what God loves: audacious prayer; bold faith; daring to actually believe that when Jesus said that we'd do "greater things than these" he flipping well meant it. I read something really challenging the other day: "How much do you want of God?... Because nobody has less of God than they want" Ouch.
Jesus, give me the naive heart of a ten year old. Help me to lose the cynicism the world has imparted to me so I'll have the courage to pray for the impossible. And help me to worship you just the same no matter your response. I want to be starving hungry for Jesus. But I'm just too darn full up on the comfort of this world. God, remind me, when I start feeling all grown up and responsible, that I'm Your little girl. All I want to do is be pulled closer into my daddy's arms.
"God wants to see, more love and playfulness in your eyes, for that is your greatest witness to Him."
Anyway, I'm back now, so thought I'd share what God's been teaching me recently.
Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." (Matthew 19v14)
Anyone who knows me, will know that I love children. They inspire me. There's an innocence, naivety, and joy in a child's eyes, that seems to mostly be all but disappeared by the time we reach our pre-teens. And that's sad.
Over the past two years, I've grown up a lot. I got a job, applied for university, signed a contract on a house(!), and now I have to contemplate exams, bills, saving money, how we're going to delegate chores, and am facing the reality of moving out of the home I've lived in for 18 years with my family, to go up North and try and survive on my own(ish). I've realised why I love kids so much. Grown-ups are boring.
And that's why Jesus loves children too. They aren't cynical, they don't have worry and stress, they haven't learnt that some things are supposed to be "impossible". They believe in miracles, they believe in goodness, and they love unconditionally. If you offer a child a present, for no reason, they will be delighted, and run off in glee. If you offer an adult a present, for no reason, they will either turn it down, or grow suspicious of what the catch may be.
"I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." (Mark 10v15)
God loves the simplistic faith of children. Personally, I love hearing kids pray. I pray with my ten year old sister a lot, and she's so much better at it than me. She's not afraid to ask for the "impossible"; she's ambitious in her prayers, and she's never shy with God. She doesn't tip-toe round things to try and be polite like we do. What's the point? God knows our hearts, we may as well just be real with Him, and pray that He'll change the parts of our hearts that don't fit what we are called to be. I read an interview with Jim Wallis the other day, and he described a prayer his 10 year old son prayed: "I pray for all the children who are going to die tomorrow. I pray they won't die."
That's what God loves: audacious prayer; bold faith; daring to actually believe that when Jesus said that we'd do "greater things than these" he flipping well meant it. I read something really challenging the other day: "How much do you want of God?... Because nobody has less of God than they want" Ouch.
Jesus, give me the naive heart of a ten year old. Help me to lose the cynicism the world has imparted to me so I'll have the courage to pray for the impossible. And help me to worship you just the same no matter your response. I want to be starving hungry for Jesus. But I'm just too darn full up on the comfort of this world. God, remind me, when I start feeling all grown up and responsible, that I'm Your little girl. All I want to do is be pulled closer into my daddy's arms.
"God wants to see, more love and playfulness in your eyes, for that is your greatest witness to Him."
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
Dear Jesus, I'd like your opinion on the colour of my socks...
So, recently, I've become somewhat abandoned to the voice of God. I've realised, that making plans and expecting God not to send me in totally the opposite direction (or even to the other end of the country), is pretty futile.
C.S. Lewis wrote "There are those who say to God: 'Thy will be done', and those to whom God says: 'Alright then, have it your way.'" I've been forced to realise, when God lets me have it my way, I generally make a bit of a pig's ear of things and have thus started to adopt the former position more readily. And I must admit, since that change has come about, things have been far more exciting. It's really made room for God to move in my life in far more noticeable ways and I've had to literally bring myself to the cross every day, and admit I don't have a clue what I'm doing, or how I'm going to do it, and thus need God to guide me through it all. And even more amazingly, He has. He has become my provider, my shelter, my peace and my strength.
Now, this is all well and good, but surely there's got to be a line somewhere? God's dragged me through the past few months, not telling me all that much about what exactly has been going on, and I have just had to trust Him, and follow His lead. But I don't think that that's how it's supposed to be all the time. I don't believe that our lives are on auto-pilot, or that the Holy Spirit is some kind of GPS system that'll warn us of speed cameras and tell us to "Turn right in 100 yards" in a novelty Homer Simpson voice (seriously, SatNavs can do that).
In fact, SatNavs generally irritate me. They often give unecessary, point out the obvious advice, and are just patronising. What annoys me more than SatNavs themselves, are SatNav dependent drivers. People who don't know where anything is past the end of their street, because they require spoken directions in order to nip to Tesco to get the milk, and refuse to use side roads, or helpful shortcuts suggested by passengers because "Glenda doesn't say so".
Recently, people in my year have been applying to university. Some of my Christian friends who have been doing so, have been totally perplexed by the whole thing. It's a pretty daunting task, and it's difficult to know where to begin, so many of them, quite rightly I suppose, have asked God to give them a sign to tell them where they should go.
I didn't do that. I have been researching for years and as only 15 unis in the UK offer my course, I had a much easier choice to make, and settled on my 5 choices fairly quickly. God however, had other ideas. Having written my personal statement, completed my UCAS form, and just waiting for final tweaks to be made before sending, He made it very clear that He wanted me to go elsewhere entirely.
On discussing what had happened with a friend who was one of said people who was praying ardently for some kind of prophecy on the matter, she began to express her longing for an insight that was as clear as the one I'd received, and to my astonishment, I found myself replying "Perhaps God doesn't care." Now, before you organise a lynch-mob to come after me, let me explain...
I believe in an Omnipotent, Omniscient, Omipresent God. Now, if we think about those qualities in ourselves (drop the omni), we know what we know, we cannot force ourselves to forget things (no matter how much we'd like to!), ergo, we cannot deny our knowledge. Wherever we are present, unless we actively leave, or cease to be, we have no control over our presence. We are where we are. However, we can decide whether or not we exercise our power, and how we do so. I recently discovered I can pick up my friend Dave. However, this does not mean that I perpetually carry him around with me. So, whilst these facets of God are perfected (in him being all-knowing, all-present, and all-powerful), the principals applying to the qualities remain the same. God is all-knowing, and all-present, which are active all the time. He is also all-powerful, but not necessarily exercising this power all the time.
Wow, that was verbose... My point being that, if God knows everything, including our future, He's the best person to guide us in our present. If God knows what decision my friend is going to make about her university, and how it'll work out, perhaps He realises that He simply doesn't need to step in and tell her, and that she'll be able to find her way on her own. I on the other hand, would have ended up in completely the wrong place, and thus Jesus felt the need to stand in front of me with a megaphone and scream in my face what to do. Other times, I think God thinks we just need to muddle through and learn from our mistakes, so we don't become SatNav dependent drivers.
I was talking to a friend last week who was saying that he thinks of his relationship with God, alot like that of his relationship with his father. Of course, his father has certain ideas about what he'd like his son to do, and he probably gets frustrated with him when he goes off and does something completely different, but he's raised him to be an independent, thinking human being; he's given him the basic teaching and knowledge he needs to be a good person, and make informed decisions; he did not however, create him to be a robot, and to have his father's own ideals forced on him and ultimately, he'll always love him, and call him his son.
Yes, sometimes we'll get lost. Yes, sometimes the car will break-down, but there'll always be signposts back; there'll always be an RAC repair man; and there'll always be an annoying Homer Simpson voice to get us back on track if needs be.
C.S. Lewis wrote "There are those who say to God: 'Thy will be done', and those to whom God says: 'Alright then, have it your way.'" I've been forced to realise, when God lets me have it my way, I generally make a bit of a pig's ear of things and have thus started to adopt the former position more readily. And I must admit, since that change has come about, things have been far more exciting. It's really made room for God to move in my life in far more noticeable ways and I've had to literally bring myself to the cross every day, and admit I don't have a clue what I'm doing, or how I'm going to do it, and thus need God to guide me through it all. And even more amazingly, He has. He has become my provider, my shelter, my peace and my strength.
Now, this is all well and good, but surely there's got to be a line somewhere? God's dragged me through the past few months, not telling me all that much about what exactly has been going on, and I have just had to trust Him, and follow His lead. But I don't think that that's how it's supposed to be all the time. I don't believe that our lives are on auto-pilot, or that the Holy Spirit is some kind of GPS system that'll warn us of speed cameras and tell us to "Turn right in 100 yards" in a novelty Homer Simpson voice (seriously, SatNavs can do that).
In fact, SatNavs generally irritate me. They often give unecessary, point out the obvious advice, and are just patronising. What annoys me more than SatNavs themselves, are SatNav dependent drivers. People who don't know where anything is past the end of their street, because they require spoken directions in order to nip to Tesco to get the milk, and refuse to use side roads, or helpful shortcuts suggested by passengers because "Glenda doesn't say so".
Recently, people in my year have been applying to university. Some of my Christian friends who have been doing so, have been totally perplexed by the whole thing. It's a pretty daunting task, and it's difficult to know where to begin, so many of them, quite rightly I suppose, have asked God to give them a sign to tell them where they should go.
I didn't do that. I have been researching for years and as only 15 unis in the UK offer my course, I had a much easier choice to make, and settled on my 5 choices fairly quickly. God however, had other ideas. Having written my personal statement, completed my UCAS form, and just waiting for final tweaks to be made before sending, He made it very clear that He wanted me to go elsewhere entirely.
On discussing what had happened with a friend who was one of said people who was praying ardently for some kind of prophecy on the matter, she began to express her longing for an insight that was as clear as the one I'd received, and to my astonishment, I found myself replying "Perhaps God doesn't care." Now, before you organise a lynch-mob to come after me, let me explain...
I believe in an Omnipotent, Omniscient, Omipresent God. Now, if we think about those qualities in ourselves (drop the omni), we know what we know, we cannot force ourselves to forget things (no matter how much we'd like to!), ergo, we cannot deny our knowledge. Wherever we are present, unless we actively leave, or cease to be, we have no control over our presence. We are where we are. However, we can decide whether or not we exercise our power, and how we do so. I recently discovered I can pick up my friend Dave. However, this does not mean that I perpetually carry him around with me. So, whilst these facets of God are perfected (in him being all-knowing, all-present, and all-powerful), the principals applying to the qualities remain the same. God is all-knowing, and all-present, which are active all the time. He is also all-powerful, but not necessarily exercising this power all the time.
Wow, that was verbose... My point being that, if God knows everything, including our future, He's the best person to guide us in our present. If God knows what decision my friend is going to make about her university, and how it'll work out, perhaps He realises that He simply doesn't need to step in and tell her, and that she'll be able to find her way on her own. I on the other hand, would have ended up in completely the wrong place, and thus Jesus felt the need to stand in front of me with a megaphone and scream in my face what to do. Other times, I think God thinks we just need to muddle through and learn from our mistakes, so we don't become SatNav dependent drivers.
I was talking to a friend last week who was saying that he thinks of his relationship with God, alot like that of his relationship with his father. Of course, his father has certain ideas about what he'd like his son to do, and he probably gets frustrated with him when he goes off and does something completely different, but he's raised him to be an independent, thinking human being; he's given him the basic teaching and knowledge he needs to be a good person, and make informed decisions; he did not however, create him to be a robot, and to have his father's own ideals forced on him and ultimately, he'll always love him, and call him his son.
Yes, sometimes we'll get lost. Yes, sometimes the car will break-down, but there'll always be signposts back; there'll always be an RAC repair man; and there'll always be an annoying Homer Simpson voice to get us back on track if needs be.
Tuesday, 21 September 2010
Over my dead body
As some of you will know, I really like Spooks, and last night was the first of this year's new series. It was a pretty good episode.
Following the death of Ros (one of the agents) in a hotel explosion last series, the Section D team are coming to terms with her loss, and moving on to their next case. The mission is to stop a Somalian Al Quaeda terrorist planning an attack on London, which is being orchestrated by an unknown computer whizz called "Talwar" (just in case you're interested, a Talwar is an Indian curved sword, ironically associated with Sikhism). The team realise that their only hope of stopping the attack is to stop Talwar, but when they reach the address they have pulled, they find that Talwar, is in fact a teenage girl. Lucas and Beth hold the girl at gun-point, telling her to shut the attack down. She doesn't budge, and Beth realises that if they kill her, it would make her a martyr, so they take her mother hostage instead, now screaming at her to shut it down. Still, she does not budge. Whilst watching this, I found myself thinking "What on earth are you doing?! He's about to put a bullet through your mother's brain, just shut the attack down!" And it was only today that I got it...
Just to be clear, I'm a Christian, I'm not an extremist and I ABSOLUTELY think that terrorism is completely wrong. But that girl, even though it was severely misconstrued, had such great faith in what she believed to be right, that she was prepared to sacrifice her life, and the lives of the ones she most loved for it.
So I've been forced to ask myself: could I make that kind of sacrifice for what I believe? Jesus certainly makes it clear what our answer should be:
Matthew 10:32"Whoever acknowledges me before men, I will also acknowledge him before my Father in heaven. 33But whoever disowns me before men, I will disown him before my Father in heaven.
34"Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. 35 For I have come to turn:
'a man against his father,
a daughter against her mother,
a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law -
36a man's enemies will be the members of his own household.'
37"Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; 38and anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. 39Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." (NIV)
That's pretty strong stuff. The trouble is, it's easy to say that we'd be prepared to make that kind of sacrifice; living in an age of padded pews, worship services carefully tailored to the tastes of the "consumer", and church cafes (or Smoothie Bars, if you watched "Rev"!). The truth is, it's never been easier to be a Christian, and not have to make any kind of real sacrifice; to not have to experience true pain (unless of course, you count having to sit through endless dry sermons!).
In that episode of Spooks, Harry (the Section D boss) is feeling pretty reflective following Ros' death. At the funeral, the realisation hits him that: “Ros gave everything to this country, and six people came to say goodbye to her. Six people Ruth. I don’t want that for myself. And I don’t want that for you.” He realises that the path he's chosen is one of great self-sacrifice, for hardly any recognition or reward, and so he hands in his resignation. He doesn't think he can take it, if that's all that waits for him in the end.
It reminded me a bit of James and John, when they go to Jesus and say “We’ll follow you anywhere, Jesus; just make sure that at the end of the road there’s a cabinet post, or an ambassadorship, or a favored seat at the heavenly banquet.” But Jesus gives them an answer they don’t want to hear: “It’s not up to me who gets the choice appointments, boys. But I can promise you this: Follow me, and you’ll certainly share my suffering. Follow me, and you'll learn what sacrifice is all about.” (In case you didn't guess, that was paraphrasing... you can find the proper version in Mark 10:35-45)
At the end of the episode, Ruth comes to Harry and explains that they have “forfeited the chance for that sort of life”: a life of normality, and safety, and comfort.
As followers of Christ, we've forfeited the chance for that sort of life too. We're called to sacrifice gladly, be it personally, monetarily, or literally, our very lives, with no expectation of reward.
Harry eventually decides to retract his resignation. I like to think that it's because he realised, even though his job is hard, full of pain and difficult sacrifice, and even though he receives no reward, or recognition for what he does, the sacrifice he makes is worth it, for the greater cause. I pray that God will help me come to that same conclusion.
Following the death of Ros (one of the agents) in a hotel explosion last series, the Section D team are coming to terms with her loss, and moving on to their next case. The mission is to stop a Somalian Al Quaeda terrorist planning an attack on London, which is being orchestrated by an unknown computer whizz called "Talwar" (just in case you're interested, a Talwar is an Indian curved sword, ironically associated with Sikhism). The team realise that their only hope of stopping the attack is to stop Talwar, but when they reach the address they have pulled, they find that Talwar, is in fact a teenage girl. Lucas and Beth hold the girl at gun-point, telling her to shut the attack down. She doesn't budge, and Beth realises that if they kill her, it would make her a martyr, so they take her mother hostage instead, now screaming at her to shut it down. Still, she does not budge. Whilst watching this, I found myself thinking "What on earth are you doing?! He's about to put a bullet through your mother's brain, just shut the attack down!" And it was only today that I got it...
Just to be clear, I'm a Christian, I'm not an extremist and I ABSOLUTELY think that terrorism is completely wrong. But that girl, even though it was severely misconstrued, had such great faith in what she believed to be right, that she was prepared to sacrifice her life, and the lives of the ones she most loved for it.
So I've been forced to ask myself: could I make that kind of sacrifice for what I believe? Jesus certainly makes it clear what our answer should be:
Matthew 10:32"Whoever acknowledges me before men, I will also acknowledge him before my Father in heaven. 33But whoever disowns me before men, I will disown him before my Father in heaven.
34"Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. 35 For I have come to turn:
'a man against his father,
a daughter against her mother,
a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law -
36a man's enemies will be the members of his own household.'
37"Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; 38and anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. 39Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." (NIV)
That's pretty strong stuff. The trouble is, it's easy to say that we'd be prepared to make that kind of sacrifice; living in an age of padded pews, worship services carefully tailored to the tastes of the "consumer", and church cafes (or Smoothie Bars, if you watched "Rev"!). The truth is, it's never been easier to be a Christian, and not have to make any kind of real sacrifice; to not have to experience true pain (unless of course, you count having to sit through endless dry sermons!).
In that episode of Spooks, Harry (the Section D boss) is feeling pretty reflective following Ros' death. At the funeral, the realisation hits him that: “Ros gave everything to this country, and six people came to say goodbye to her. Six people Ruth. I don’t want that for myself. And I don’t want that for you.” He realises that the path he's chosen is one of great self-sacrifice, for hardly any recognition or reward, and so he hands in his resignation. He doesn't think he can take it, if that's all that waits for him in the end.
It reminded me a bit of James and John, when they go to Jesus and say “We’ll follow you anywhere, Jesus; just make sure that at the end of the road there’s a cabinet post, or an ambassadorship, or a favored seat at the heavenly banquet.” But Jesus gives them an answer they don’t want to hear: “It’s not up to me who gets the choice appointments, boys. But I can promise you this: Follow me, and you’ll certainly share my suffering. Follow me, and you'll learn what sacrifice is all about.” (In case you didn't guess, that was paraphrasing... you can find the proper version in Mark 10:35-45)
At the end of the episode, Ruth comes to Harry and explains that they have “forfeited the chance for that sort of life”: a life of normality, and safety, and comfort.
As followers of Christ, we've forfeited the chance for that sort of life too. We're called to sacrifice gladly, be it personally, monetarily, or literally, our very lives, with no expectation of reward.
Harry eventually decides to retract his resignation. I like to think that it's because he realised, even though his job is hard, full of pain and difficult sacrifice, and even though he receives no reward, or recognition for what he does, the sacrifice he makes is worth it, for the greater cause. I pray that God will help me come to that same conclusion.
Saturday, 31 July 2010
“How does one become a butterfly?" she asked. "You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar.”
Yesterday, I discovered a body. At 16 51, on a 96 bus bound for Bluewater, as I sat in the very back seat, I noticed a small, dark smudge, at the base of the tiny hatch-window. On closer inspection, I discerned that it was in fact a protruding butterfly wing. I sat, studying the wing for quite some time, fascinated by the intricacies, in awe of it's beauty, and deeply saddened that it was confined to the back window of a TFL bus, when it would have once known blue skies and trees, flowers and grass, flight and freedom. It was in this grief that I suddenly felt compelled to set the butterfly wing free.
In retrieving it, I found that it was in fact a whole, deceased butterfly. And that it was even more beautiful than I had first suspected.
I'm not normally much of a wildlife person, but for some inexplicable reason, I was drawn; transfixed, by this lifeless, winged creature, resting on the window ledge.
As the bus careered along the road, it jolted and heaved, tossing the pitiful corpse here and there, completely oblivious to the solemnity that preoccupied the stern.
I was helpless. All I could do was watch as the iridescent bug was flung back and forth, until at last with one final jolt, and a thoughtful gust of wind, the butterfly was lifted up into the air, mounting the breeze, with the utmost grace and dignity, for her final flight. She was at peace. She'd flown for her last time, and I no longer needed to mourn. She was free.
It occurred to me, that life is a bit like that sorrowful butterfly. Beautiful, rare, precious and fleeting. We take it so much for granted, but every breath, every sunrise, every butterfly in the breeze, is a gift.
The Universal Declaration of Human Rights states that every person has the right to life. But that's simply not true. The word "right" connotes that we have earned, through our own action or authority to have a claim over something. We have no "right" to have breath in our lungs and blood in our veins. We've done nothing to deserve it. All we have to do is take a look at the mess we've made of our world, to see that human beings, really aren't all that.
Life, is a blessing, only by the grace, mercy, and eternal love of God. We need to make the gift of life that God has given us count. We have no claim over it, it's all for Him, and our reward will be that final flight.
"Not because of what I am,
But because of what You've done,
Not because of what I've done,
But because of who You are,
I am a flower, quickly fading,
Here today and gone tomorrow,
A wave tossed in the ocean,
A vapour in the wind,
Still You, hear me when I'm calling,
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling,
And You've told me who I am...
I am Yours "
I'm starting to realise I'm pretty selfish, and pretty arrogant, especially when it comes to my prayers. I need to be a lot more thankful for all the blessings that God has already poured out on me, and not take them so much for granted. Mary Jones, the little Welsh girl, who saved up all of her money, and walked for miles and miles, just to buy a Bible used to say "Count your blessings one by one, and see what the Lord has done."
I get busy praying for all the things I need, my friends need, the world needs, I often forget the crucial truth, that this life is merely borrowed, that I'm not (supposed to be) living for myself anymore, and that when Jesus told us to pray the whole "Your will be done" thing, He meant it.
I've never liked maths, but I'm going to start counting a bit more.
In retrieving it, I found that it was in fact a whole, deceased butterfly. And that it was even more beautiful than I had first suspected.
I'm not normally much of a wildlife person, but for some inexplicable reason, I was drawn; transfixed, by this lifeless, winged creature, resting on the window ledge.
As the bus careered along the road, it jolted and heaved, tossing the pitiful corpse here and there, completely oblivious to the solemnity that preoccupied the stern.
I was helpless. All I could do was watch as the iridescent bug was flung back and forth, until at last with one final jolt, and a thoughtful gust of wind, the butterfly was lifted up into the air, mounting the breeze, with the utmost grace and dignity, for her final flight. She was at peace. She'd flown for her last time, and I no longer needed to mourn. She was free.
It occurred to me, that life is a bit like that sorrowful butterfly. Beautiful, rare, precious and fleeting. We take it so much for granted, but every breath, every sunrise, every butterfly in the breeze, is a gift.
The Universal Declaration of Human Rights states that every person has the right to life. But that's simply not true. The word "right" connotes that we have earned, through our own action or authority to have a claim over something. We have no "right" to have breath in our lungs and blood in our veins. We've done nothing to deserve it. All we have to do is take a look at the mess we've made of our world, to see that human beings, really aren't all that.
Life, is a blessing, only by the grace, mercy, and eternal love of God. We need to make the gift of life that God has given us count. We have no claim over it, it's all for Him, and our reward will be that final flight.
"Not because of what I am,
But because of what You've done,
Not because of what I've done,
But because of who You are,
I am a flower, quickly fading,
Here today and gone tomorrow,
A wave tossed in the ocean,
A vapour in the wind,
Still You, hear me when I'm calling,
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling,
And You've told me who I am...
I am Yours "
I'm starting to realise I'm pretty selfish, and pretty arrogant, especially when it comes to my prayers. I need to be a lot more thankful for all the blessings that God has already poured out on me, and not take them so much for granted. Mary Jones, the little Welsh girl, who saved up all of her money, and walked for miles and miles, just to buy a Bible used to say "Count your blessings one by one, and see what the Lord has done."
I get busy praying for all the things I need, my friends need, the world needs, I often forget the crucial truth, that this life is merely borrowed, that I'm not (supposed to be) living for myself anymore, and that when Jesus told us to pray the whole "Your will be done" thing, He meant it.
I've never liked maths, but I'm going to start counting a bit more.
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