This time two weeks ago I was on my way to New Wine Christian Conference in Shepton Mallett, Somerset with my friend Emma who I met when we were both out in SA. I spent two days there soaking up the Word of God, being encouraged to step out in faith and learning ideas and philosophies that were new to me and oh so relevant to my life. I had previously planned to meet up with my family in Co. Wexford that weekend, so I had to leave early and get the train to Luton airport and fly to Waterford, and Emma very kindly agreed to take me to the station. Unfortunately when the time came to leave we spent so long saying our goodbyes (we didnt really want to leave our beloved VoH friends!) that I ended up missing the train by about 90seconds. Naturally I was then madly panicking about how I was going to make it to Luton in time to catch my flight. Emma had previously offered to drive me to the airport instead of taking the train, so that's what we did. Once I'd calmed down and got the route sorted etc I felt a bit more philosophical about the whole thing and decided if it was meant to be I would get the plane and if not then I wouldnt.
To cut an already rambling story short I made it to the check-in desk about 15mins late but it worked out ok and I got to Ireland safely to meet with my family (Phew!). I warned them about the dilemna via text earlier but on arrival was able to explain exactly what had happened as we drove out of the airport. I finished by saying that I think God wanted me and Em to travel together, as it was complicated to get out of Somerset and back on the motorway so she needed a navigator, and also she was quite drowsy at one point so it was good I was there to chat and sing with her and keep her awake as she drove :) My sister responded with something along the lines of "I dont think God made you miss the train Jess, you could've done that by yourself you know, not absolutely everything is mapped out by God - free will and all that?!"
I have to admit this left me a little deflated, and then a bit hacked off, and then back to the good old defiance! :)
One of the lessons I took away from New Wine was that being a Christian is not always about what you do, it's about who you are. It's about letting God permeate every aspect of your life, living for Him in everything you do, not just the big stuff. And surely it works both ways?? God doesn't just guide us in the big life-changing decisions and events, he's there every step of the way, loving us and supporting us. We cant know what little changes we make or little events which happen to us will impact greatly on our path in life or the lives of others (Think Sliding Doors and Benjamin Button!) and we cant know where and when God's hand is guiding, we are not party to the big plan for our lives - Jeremiah 29:11.
Ok, so maybe me missing my train had nothing to do with the Big Man Upstairs, maybe it was simply human error, but surely the important thing is that Emma and I were willing to believe that he could've had a hand in it, that he might want to be involved in the 'little stuff'.
We are always told that God is The Father, that he loves us like a parent, unconditionally. So why is it so hard to believe that God might be there for the finger painting as well as the PhD? Wouldn't a parent soothe you when you graze your knee or bang your head, not just be there to hold your hand for a serious operation? One of my favourite phrases is 'God is in the details', and I am constantly amazed by how true this is. I mean, even if we forget humans and the capacity he must have to watch over and care for us all, he makes every snowflake and leaf individual! We may never truly grasp how incredible our Lord is, or understand why it is that he delights in us, but we must never underestimate the reach of His love .
I'll never know whether He was influencing what happened that day, but I do know that together Em and I muddled through Somerset and both got to our destinations safely (and on time!), and enjoyed the journey along the way, so miniature disasters do sometimes have happy endings :)
Wednesday, 19 August 2009
Friday, 24 July 2009
Dreams, Bad Days and Memories
Today was destined to be a bad day. Waking up from a dream where I’ve stormed off from a stupid argument with one of my best friends and then end up caring for a sick child who’s lost her mother. Stuck in roadworks and then realising I’m in the red on the fuel gauge, so stopping for petrol makes me late for work, which then drags like the slowest lamest donkey plodding across a scorching hot desert. Except it’s not hot at work, it’s freezing cold because the air con is on full blast despite the fact that the office temperature is fine without. It’s July and yet it’s pleasant outside, when it’s not raining like a monsoon of course. We had a brief break from monotony when a thunderstorm was right on top of us at about half twelve, the windows shook and all the computers and lights went off momentarily, and then it was back to the trudge of the afore-mentioned mule.
The killer is I’m just biding my time here. I’m handing in my notice in a couple of weeks, and I am counting down the days!! It seems to make the days go slower, the afternoons are definitely longer. I’ve started deleting files and wrapping things up already, but without telling anyone of course – trying to make myself feel like I’m really heading towards that glorious day when I leave the office for the last time.
The best thing today was when my phone miraculously hag signal for 30secs this afternoon and a text from my best friend came through. All it included was the lyrics from a Kelly Clarkson song: “You got a piece of me, and honestly, MY LIFE. WOULD SUCK. WITHOUT YOU!!! I laughed out loud as I was immediately taken back to a sunny Sunday morning at the beginning of May when four of us were driving through the countryside, heading back home after a brilliant night out for a friend’s birthday the evening before. The song came on the radio and we were all singing along until Milly and I caught each others eye and starting singing the lyrics to each other in a ‘jokey but actually full of truth’ moment. We were laughing uncontrollably for a while as the others in the front wondered what the hell had got into us.
It’s moments like this that puncture the everyday boredom to lift your spirit and make everything seem that bit more bearable. In the grand scheme of things of course my bad day is nothing, it’s just a long line of irritations that don’t really matter. But if these little negatives can make the good moments seem that much more precious, then they are precious in their own way too.
I find myself thinking about memories and how powerful they are. The warm fuzzy feeling I still have from that lovely silly text which transported me back to such a happy moment. The new perfume I tried out yesterday that sent shivers through me with an old, familiar scent, though I still can’t place it. I’m not a rose-tinted glasses kind of girl, I like to remember things exactly how they were and I always include the bad with the good in my scrapbook style photo albums – how else can we learn and grow? But there are certain memories which will always touch my soul. Moments that were so full of joy and laughter and love and excitement that they almost become bittersweet because they cannot be revisited, only recalled.
The killer is I’m just biding my time here. I’m handing in my notice in a couple of weeks, and I am counting down the days!! It seems to make the days go slower, the afternoons are definitely longer. I’ve started deleting files and wrapping things up already, but without telling anyone of course – trying to make myself feel like I’m really heading towards that glorious day when I leave the office for the last time.
The best thing today was when my phone miraculously hag signal for 30secs this afternoon and a text from my best friend came through. All it included was the lyrics from a Kelly Clarkson song: “You got a piece of me, and honestly, MY LIFE. WOULD SUCK. WITHOUT YOU!!! I laughed out loud as I was immediately taken back to a sunny Sunday morning at the beginning of May when four of us were driving through the countryside, heading back home after a brilliant night out for a friend’s birthday the evening before. The song came on the radio and we were all singing along until Milly and I caught each others eye and starting singing the lyrics to each other in a ‘jokey but actually full of truth’ moment. We were laughing uncontrollably for a while as the others in the front wondered what the hell had got into us.
It’s moments like this that puncture the everyday boredom to lift your spirit and make everything seem that bit more bearable. In the grand scheme of things of course my bad day is nothing, it’s just a long line of irritations that don’t really matter. But if these little negatives can make the good moments seem that much more precious, then they are precious in their own way too.
I find myself thinking about memories and how powerful they are. The warm fuzzy feeling I still have from that lovely silly text which transported me back to such a happy moment. The new perfume I tried out yesterday that sent shivers through me with an old, familiar scent, though I still can’t place it. I’m not a rose-tinted glasses kind of girl, I like to remember things exactly how they were and I always include the bad with the good in my scrapbook style photo albums – how else can we learn and grow? But there are certain memories which will always touch my soul. Moments that were so full of joy and laughter and love and excitement that they almost become bittersweet because they cannot be revisited, only recalled.
Sunday, 5 July 2009
I Was Very Childish Today
I find myself being more defiant and righteous these days than ever before. Today I was in a well-known high street book store looking in the section on religion for a book a friend had recommended to me. On the top shelf stood a book with the title 'God is NOT great', and I immediately felt a surge of anger and indignation, similar to how I feel when protecting a friend from slander or injustice of some kind. And that's exactly how it is, thinking about it now - my God, my friend, being rebuked and slandered (if it's not a word, I'm making it one) made me see red. My exact thought was 'Isn't there enough negativity in the world?! Don't we have enough to battle without this anti-religion diatribe?!' I considered buying the book and tearing it up, or having a mini bonfire with it, but I have firm beliefs on the sanctity of the written word, so I did something very childish. I took down the book, browsed the back page and put it back on the shelf with the spine the wrong way so the title could not be read. Silly I know, and not doing any good in the long run, but my small anarchic act made me feel better for five minutes anyhow.
On my return from SA recently I was having a conversation with a friend about the Grabouw settlements and what it was like to walk through them and meet the people who live there. I described how local witch doctors record curses on cassette tape and then place the tape around certain houses or through the settlements to put these curses on others. We were asked to destroy this tape in God's name where we found it, if we felt comfortable to do so. I kept an eagle eye out and felt righteous anger each time I destroyed the tape I found, even more so when T suddenly got a terrible headache, which I have no doubt was spiritually brought on.
My friend asked me what right we had to destroy the tape, and interupt with our religious beliefs the beliefs and customs of others. At the time I think I made good arguments, although I didnt manage to convince my friend that we had done the right thing (though I doubt that would ever be possible, but that's another story). I wish I had found the right words to explain, and it has bothered me since then. I should've said: Why shouldn't we defend ourselves against people trying to hurt us? If I or someone I was trying to help was attacked with a physical weapon, people would think I was crazy if I didnt try to defend myself.
I have realised my friend could not take this view automatically, as to him the curses are not real, he does not believe in God or any other spiritual beings, and so sees these matters from a detached perspective, where I was damaging someone elses property, not protecting myself from harm against evil thoughts and energies.
Nevertheless I rejoice in each tiny positive step in my Father's name, (even if really it was only to make me feel better). I am not a natural evangelist but I am open and honest about my faith, and welcome discussions and questions from my friends. I honestly don't know how others survive without the comfort and strength that I find in my relationship with God. In the past I have found it hard to understand how we are supposed to love God above all others, when I have so much love for those around me, until recently when I really opened up to my faith and realised I am now willing to follow God's plan for me, even if it means disappointing those I care for, or drawing away from them. My sister put it beautifully when she said "When you lose loved ones, you grieve but you find a way, you find the strength to carry on. If you lost God, you would be absolutely lost, and life would lose all meaning".
On my return from SA recently I was having a conversation with a friend about the Grabouw settlements and what it was like to walk through them and meet the people who live there. I described how local witch doctors record curses on cassette tape and then place the tape around certain houses or through the settlements to put these curses on others. We were asked to destroy this tape in God's name where we found it, if we felt comfortable to do so. I kept an eagle eye out and felt righteous anger each time I destroyed the tape I found, even more so when T suddenly got a terrible headache, which I have no doubt was spiritually brought on.
My friend asked me what right we had to destroy the tape, and interupt with our religious beliefs the beliefs and customs of others. At the time I think I made good arguments, although I didnt manage to convince my friend that we had done the right thing (though I doubt that would ever be possible, but that's another story). I wish I had found the right words to explain, and it has bothered me since then. I should've said: Why shouldn't we defend ourselves against people trying to hurt us? If I or someone I was trying to help was attacked with a physical weapon, people would think I was crazy if I didnt try to defend myself.
I have realised my friend could not take this view automatically, as to him the curses are not real, he does not believe in God or any other spiritual beings, and so sees these matters from a detached perspective, where I was damaging someone elses property, not protecting myself from harm against evil thoughts and energies.
Nevertheless I rejoice in each tiny positive step in my Father's name, (even if really it was only to make me feel better). I am not a natural evangelist but I am open and honest about my faith, and welcome discussions and questions from my friends. I honestly don't know how others survive without the comfort and strength that I find in my relationship with God. In the past I have found it hard to understand how we are supposed to love God above all others, when I have so much love for those around me, until recently when I really opened up to my faith and realised I am now willing to follow God's plan for me, even if it means disappointing those I care for, or drawing away from them. My sister put it beautifully when she said "When you lose loved ones, you grieve but you find a way, you find the strength to carry on. If you lost God, you would be absolutely lost, and life would lose all meaning".
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