Disapproval

It is not my place to judge. In fact, not only is it not my place, but as far as the Bible is concerned, it is sinful of me to judge, or be judgemental.
This week, I had a "cyber-chat" with an old friend. Upon reading my blog and seeing my Facebook comments, he could clearly see that my faith in God, and my involvement in church, has significantly grown since we were close friends, during Sixth Form. He has always been very unimpressed with organised religion, and has never made a secret of his suspicions and concerns. But he used a really interesting phrase this week that has remained with me.

"I deeply disapprove of any church stuff."

Those words have been ringing in my head ever since I read them. Deeply disapprove. What do I "deeply disapprove" of? Is there anything that concerns me that much? And if there is, why do I not feel as free as my friend, to express it? Am I giving in to political correctness? Do I actually feel that strongly about anything?

Well, actually, there is something that I deeply disapprove of...I deeply, deeply disapprove of a life with out Jesus. In every part of my heart, soul and mind, I am grieving for those of you who do not have Jesus in your lives. I deeply disapprove of loneliness, and the pressure to survive without any help. I deeply disapprove of a life spent trying to "do the right thing", all the while wasting time on meaningless good deeds, when all you need is the grace and forgiveness of God. I deeply disapprove of a life lived in the lie that everything will be okay, and that "what goes around comes around". I deeply disapprove of a life without the freedom to understand who you really are in Jesus - a loved, cherished and precious child of a loving, all-powerful God. I deeply disapprove of the drab acceptance that we are here by chance, that our amazing minds, bodies and souls are not planned carefully and created for a purpose. I deeply disapprove of a life without the knowledge of true love, a love that spans the ages, is everlasting, completely unconditional and sacrificial. And I deeply disapprove of a lack of hope that God has an amazing plan for our lives and that this life and all that we see, is only the beginning.

I do not disapprove of anyone's choices, lifestyles or beliefs. But I deeply disapprove of you all missing out on the most important thing in all of existence. I desperately long for my precious, wonderful friends to live their lives to the full. The only way to do this is with Jesus. It has nothing to do with relationships, marriage, kids, travel, success, work, finances, holidays, status, promotion, fame, beauty, possessions, or even health. There is only one answer, and only one way.

One Way - Jesus.

Newday!!!!!!! Woo hoo!!!!

"Mummy!!! How many sleeps 'til Newday?"
"Only four!! Woooooooooooooooo hooooooooooooooo!!"

There are somethings that I find even more exciting than my kids do. Newday is one of them. Preparation for Newday is just as exciting as being there. Writing lists. Ticking things off that list. Shopping for shampoo, shower gel and packets of tissues. Making sure that I have a full First Aid kit (even though one will be fully available.) Packing my Bible, notebook and pen. ensuring that I have the right clothes - clothes for sun and clothes for rain. Wellies. Flip flops. Pieces of carpet for wiping feet on. Tent. Tent pegs. Ground sheet. Battery operated lantern. cash for milkshakes, coffee, chips and the bookshop.

What is Newday? Sorry, I got a bit carried away. You see, when it comes to Newday, I do get carried away. Well, Newday is the new Stoneleigh, and Stoneleigh was the new New Generation, and New Generation was the new More Than Conquerors, and More Than Conquerors was the new Downs. I think the Downs was preceded by something, but that was before my time.

All these are (and this is the bit I hate, as no words can describe how amazing they are/were, and the following words definitely do not do them justice) Christian Summer Camps, Gatherings, Festivals, Events. The Downs and Stoneleigh were for all ages, whereas the others, including Newday, are for young people only (obviously with Youth Leaders also...and their kids.)

Basically, we pack up a coach with young people, our kid, bags of unnecessary clothing and equipment, sweets, drinks (non-alcoholic, of course) and excitement. We head up to the Norfolk Showground, where we meet our catering team - a brave bunch from our lovely church, who arrive a day early, pitch our tents for us and prepare for a hard-slog week of cooking for about a million of us, making it feel like home. We pour off the coach, thanking our driving with hip-hip-hoorays and dive into our tents to blow up our airbeds and set ourselves up. At this point, I become rather nostalgic, so please excuse me....

...I remember when, as a teenager, my mum, dad, little brother and I made our way up to Stoneleigh - such exciting times. Ben and I LOVED the journey. We knew it fairly well, and we never tired of it. We didn't even mind that it took a while to drive up there - it was all part of the experience. As we approached the gate, squeals of excitement emitted from the backseat of my dad's car. Upon being welcomed by the registration team, we handed them our forms in exchange for badges, handbooks and a black bin liner...ahh I can smell the campsite now!!! Stoneleigh agricultural ground had a special, unique smell of its own... We'd drive around to our church's allocated site and wave as we saw our friends. Mum and Dad would put the tent up - one year they didn't realise that it had been put up inside out until three days into the week!!!

I'd find my friends, Lucy, Lyndsey, Ilona, Jo, Jayne and Amy and we'd go off, "scouting for boys". Obviously it wasn't all about boys....not that I didn't do fairly well on that front...We'd also find our venue for meetings and then check out the bookshop and food stalls - it was a sign of a good year if we found a Hog Roast van!!

Stoneleigh meant late nights and early rises, to get a hot shower. It meant time with my friends, without my parents worrying where I was. It meant dinners made by my mum on a camping stove of tinned chilli, boil-in-the-bag rice and the occasional cooked brekkie. Tinned potatoes and chicken in white wine sauce from a tin. Stoneleigh meant new books, maybe a new Bible and a new hoodie. Long walks and lazy afternoons by the river. It also meant new developments in my relationship with God, empowering talks where I learnt how to worship God with abandon, and hilariously clear instruction on dating and sex - we ALWAYS went to that talk!!!

As Stoneleigh came to an end, we all really grieved our precious time with each other and with God. We returned to school feeling focused and strong, ready to face the world and the though of not having Stoneleigh felt so scary.

Newday followed, inviting young people to enjoy a week away with out their parents - they'd gone one better!!! By the time it stared, I was too old to go to Newday. Even if I had been the right age, I had gone in my own direction, away from church and away from Jesus.

And so, when the opportunity came for Dave and I and our kids to join the youth at Newday last year, I was hugely excited. You see, I am (thankfully) no longer scouting for boys, or worrying about cool clothes. Neither am I enjoying the easy, run-around-and-do-my-own-thing element of Newday. But I do get to see others doing it. I enjoy great times with the youth - milkshakes with the girls, laying around on sleeping bags chatting to people, eating together in a big marquee, late night hot chocolate and cake, queuing for showers, listening-in to hilarious conversations during our patrol after lights-out and most of all, seeing these cheeky, normal, hormonal, sometimes stroppy kids sold out in worship to Jesus. Last year, I watched tears fall silently down one big brother's face, as his younger brother stepped forward to move into a deeper relationship with God. I saw a quiet and shy young man receive baptism in the Holy Spirit. I witnessed boys praying for their friends, as they became young men together. I heard girls prophesy over one another, and pray for healing. I saw lives changed, hearts broken and the re-building process beginning. I am looking forward to seeing what God will do in the young people this year.

So, as I pack my big stacka-box with raincoats (just in case), plasters and air fresheners - have you ever smelt inside a tent where five 14 year-olds are staying? - I am so excited. I am counting down the hours...

Have a look at the website...are you coming next year?

Wednesdays @ Sally's

About five years ago, I regularly welcomed a group of giggly, noisy, hormonal girls into my house most Wednesday nights. They'd arrive like a whirlwind, all talking at once, laughing far too loudly, shouting to be heard over each other, miraculously being able to talk and listen to each other similtaneously. I'd watch them as they removed their shoes, by flicking them off with their toes, piling their coats up on the banister at the bottom of the stairs, and unwrapping themselves of reams and reams of woolly scarves (one would always be left behind.)

I'd take drinks orders - tea, "fat" Coke, water - and let them pour into the living room, where they'd usually devour a few cakes or biscuits. From the kitchen, I could hear coos and "ahhhs" as they welcomed each other with big hugs, and high-pitched squeals as they exchanged stories about their days at school.

Once drinks were made, I'd return to join them in the living room, where I'd attempt (usually unsuccessfully) to calm and quiet the rabble that was "my youth girlies".

We'd started meeting together after the girls asked if I could help them to spend more time together, and with God. At the time, I had two kids, a gracious, releasing husband (who remains gracious and releasing!!) and a cosy house, so it was easy to make it a regular night, at our home. And so, Wednesdays Nights were born.

Usually, I'd prepare either a Bible study, or a question, or theme to discuss. The girls would then talk...and talk some more. Sometimes they laughed, sometimes they cried. They seemed to grow closer and I started to get to know them more.

Ellie, Grace, Emily, Angharad, Laura, Emma and Phily. Lovely girls, all so different. Ellie - just like me, The Drama Queen - full of ideas, full of passion. Grace - The Natural Carer, she'll always look after others first. Emily - The Strong, clever, funny, always does well, with whatever she puts her hand to. Angharad - The Giggler, known as Annie, smiley, cute, everyone's friend. Laura - The Grown Up, hugely mature and endlessly loving. Emma - The Artist, observant, reserved, deeply emotional. Phily - The Baby of the Group - amazingly prophetic, full of potential.

I fell deeply in love with these girls. They had hoodies printed. "God's Girls" on the front, their names on the back, clearly communicating to the world that they belonged to each other, and to God. When I discovered that I was expecting Seth, my youngest child, I told the girls. They seemed very excited. Our Wednesday nights stopped, as my pregnancy progressed. With various illnesses and complications, it became to difficult to continue. But, when Seth was born, the girls held him, and fussed over my other two children. I remember laughing when Annie held Seth. He had been born 6 weeks early and was consequently very small. Annie was also rather tiny, and so they seemed, somehow, to fit!!

When we decided to follow a pull to a new church congregation, my biggest sadness was saying goodbye to this group of lovely girls. I knew that I'd miss out on their maturing and that I'd not be a part of their journeys through school and on to uni. I felt really sad, but I knew they'd not be far and that I'd see them again. I knew that they each had fantastic parents, and that their walks with God were not at all reliant upon my being around.

A while ago, at a party at my parents' house, I chatted to a few of the girls. It was so wonderful to see them and to enjoy their company again. They were just as full of beans as they'd been a few years before.

Two days ago, Annie suddenly died in a terrible car accident. It seems dream-like writing those words. No words seem to qualify in describing her. The Annie I knew, was just really easy to be around. She smiled, giggled, served, helped and loved. She was unusually close to her mum, Anne. She was a delight to know. Annie was incredbily pretty, but clearly had no idea. She seemed to be without ego. I really liked Annie. Everyone did. She was full of beans - such a cheeky monkey.

I hadn't seen Annie for a few weeks, the last time being, as I sat in the crowd of young people at LIFE, the weekly youth event at Kerith Community Church. Annie was lugging various props, and bits of furniture, on and off the stage. She did it quietly, exchanging cheeky smiles with her friends who were speaking to the gathered guests.

We didn't chat, but the next day she sent me a Facebook message - "I didn't get to talk to you last night. Meet for coffee soon?" We didn't have coffee. I haven't properly seen her for ages, but I miss her. I desperately miss her, and I seem to be crying an awful lot. I have cried on the playground, and cried with one of Annie's best friends. I've cried as I've read comments left for her on Facebook and I've cried in the car. I am so very sad. Mainly, I am sad for her family, Anne, Bill, Jonathan and Nick. I am praying for them, asking God to somehow (as only He can) give them all that they need to continue and thrive.

But also, as I remember those noisy Wednesday nights, I am so glad to have shared in the lives of those beautiful, precious girls. I am so glad that for a short time, they let me into their world, their funny, noisy, full-of-beans, crazy world. I still love them all so very much, Annie included, and that will never change. My prayer for all of these girls, is that they will return to a life of laughter, sharing funny stories of their days, and "Fat" Coke. It will never, ever be the same without Annie, but it will be richer for her having been there in the first place.

Oh to be in England!

I love the Summer. I truly thrive in warm sunshine and a gentle breeze. I love hanging my washing out on the line, knowing that it will dry quickly, smelling clean and cosy. I have been abroad during the Summer, but I can honestly say that I prefer an English Summer to the others that I have experienced.

This Summer, it has been exciting in England. With the World Cup looming, flags were hung outside people's windows and on their cars. Wimbledon brought on Murray Madness, as it did, Hopeful Henman Histrionics a few years ago. I've listened to a few radio discussions about national pride and the displaying of our national flag. I've heard people's disapproving comments, claiming flag owners and displayers are "chavy" or racist. I remember walking past various pubs during the 1998 World Cup, when I was at university, hearing chants of "En-ger-land!" and thinking how rowdy and "yobbish" it all was. What a snob I was!!

I am a massive fan of the TV adaptation of "The Darling Buds of May". I love hearing Pop Larkin, played by David Jason, as he explains the wonders of The Garden of England (Kent) to his new friend, Mr Charlton. "Can you imagine, Charlie my old man, a life without strawberries? No cream teas, no strawberries and cream? What about the plums, apples and cherries? No crumble? No lovely pies?" Summer in England wouldn't be the same without these things. In fact, England itself would not be the same.

After a few weeks of real Summer, I have noticed more and more of the things I love about England...

I love carnivals and village fairs.

I love cider, and apple pie with custard.

I love country gardens, and a jug of Pimms.

I love fish 'n' chips and the English seaside.

I love chickens and ducks in pretty country gardens, and picnics in the woods.

I love tombolas and maypole dancing.

I actually really love Morris dancers and thatched cottages.

I love old castles and Royal events. I love red London buses, and black London cabs.

I love the Queen's honours list and old, English showbiz stars.

I love Shakespeare and Chaucer.

I love beautifully-fragranced rose bushes and mighty oak trees.

I love the history and myth of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table.

I love foxes and badgers, blue tits and pigeons.

I love homemade jam and round ladies with rosey cheeks.

I love the sunshine, the snow, the rain and the wind.

I love the range of amazing accents of England and the different cultures I see every day.

I love the voice of Dame Vera Lynn, telling us we'll meet again, and the amazing photos of rationed street parties after World War Two.

There is so much more that I love about England. For all our complaints. For all of our English reserve, I love this country. I am a proud English girl and I love to explore our traditions and history and share them with other nations. I hope that we will soon develop a pride in our Englishness. A pride that causes us to include others in our celebration of all that it means to be English - victory, resourcefulness, community.

But in the meantime, I'll just hope, dream...and enjoy the gentle breeze and warm sunshine, as it drys my washing.

My new sister

About two weeks ago, whilst on holiday, I picked up my mobile phone to find that I had missed 11 calls from the same number - my brother, Benji's. I think I knew straight away why he was calling, but I made no comment to Dave or the kids. I just called Benji's number, and he immediately answered. I knew, again, by the sound of his voice, why he had called. So as he told me his news, I was not shocked.

You see, this news has been coming for a while. To be honest, I have known that this news would come for a couple of years now. I have prayed that it would. I have looked forward to it. It is probably the best news I've heard in ages.

Benji and his girlfriend, Heather had been sharing a cream tea on a sunny Sunday morning, by Exeter Cathedral, when Benji decided that he would ask the most important question of his life. When he asked Heather to marry him, she said "yes".

My future sister-in-law, Heather, is probably the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. She is tall and slim, with lovely light brown, wavy hair, and big pretty eyes. Heather is funny, smiley and happy. She is gentle and clever. She loves Jesus, and she loves my brother. She has a good relationship with her parents and three siblings, and everyone that meets her is thoroughly impressed by her. She is a head-turner and a heart-warmer, and I love her so very much.

I remember when Benji first met Heather. He and Dave had been to the casting auditions of a church theatre production. They returned "full-of-beans", waxing lyrical about this beautiful girl who might be playing the role of Mary, in a modern-day version of the Christmas Story. They spoke about how pretty she was, and how friendly she seemed. Benji was clearly very impressed, and in the few weeks that followed, I teased and hassled him about when he was going to ask her out!!

I remember that a couple of months later, for Indy's fancy dress birthday party, Heather turned up, dressed as a mermaid. Not only did she look completely lovely, but she clearly was ready for a great time, dressed in bluey-greeny clothes, sparkly make-up and massive flippers!!! I remember thinking how brilliant she was, and how she clearly was not at all interested in impressing anyone, but only in having loads of fun.

Time has passed, and I have seen Benji and Heather grow together, and fall in love. To see my little brother in such a fantastically strong, God-centred and fun-filled relationship has filled me with joy and peace.

Last year, I had the great privilege of spending time with Heather at a Christian women's conference, Cherish. She supported me, cried with me and laughed with me. She encouraged me as I faced some struggles, and made me love her even more.

There's something else that I admire in Heather. She is an adventurer...and independent adventurer. She travels to Finland, all alone, to study for five months. She seeks God independently, and she stands out from the crowd, being herself without fear. All of this she does, with gentleness and humility. I love that.

I have just been looking for a knitting pattern for a delicate wedding shawl for Heather. I don't expect her to wear it, but I really want to make it for her, because I love her. My children love her, my husband loves her, my parents love her and my brother loves her. We love her because she adds something special to our family. She brings humour, creativity, godliness and and peace. And, she completes my brother.

Of all of the women that could have been in my brother's life, Heather is the best. She is more than I could have asked for, for my lovely, precious brother.

I hope that she reads this.

Heather, my treasured new sister. I love you so very much. I look forward to sharing more of our lives with each other. I often boast about my future sister-in-law, and my precious friend. I am so blessed to know you. Please lean on me when you need to. Thank you for saying "yes" to my brother. You really are lovely. You are an answer to prayer. xxx

Productivity and Fruitfulness

Today, so far, has been a fairly productive day. Productivity has not been a word that has been relevant to me for such a long time, but things are changing.

Today, between school and nursery drop-offs, I had coffee with a really precious friend. After we'd exchanged the usual pleasantries and sat ourselves down, I asked one of those "scary" questions. These questions generally relate to something real. I've never been one for shallow conversation (which I'm sure irritates and troubles some people - I must appear very nosey) but I find asking these questions often releases the most amazing friendships. The following questions come under the "scary question" category...

"How are you?....no, really, how are you?"
"So, what do you really want to do with your life?"
"How's your marriage?"
"Can I pray for you?"
"Have I upset you?"
"Are you ok, finacially?"
"How is your relationship with your boyfriend?" (this is VERY scary when posed to one of our gorgeous young people at church!!)

There are so many more, and, as much as I get scared asking them, I love the effects that these questions have.

I asked my friend a scary question. She answered me truthfully. We talked, we laughed, she cried. While we talked, we picked fruit from trees in her garden. She gave the fruit to me, and I brought it home and turned it into jam. This afternoon, I'll drop her pot of jam over to her.

I love making jam - strawberry, gooseberry, plum, raspberry, blackberry, elderberry...it's all good. It also really simple -

Basic Jam Recipe

1 kilo of fruit
1 kilo of granulated sugar
the juice of 1 lemon

1.Put everyhing in a pan, gently heat until the sugar dissolves, bring to the boil.
2.Using a plate that has been sitting in the freezer for a while, blob a drop of jam onto the plate, let it cool, then push your finger through it. If it wrinkles, it's ready. If not, re-boil for another 5 minutes and test again.
3.Pour the jam into sterilised warm jars, lid on, leave to cool.

Three pots of Cherry Jam later....

Today has not been hugely busy. I did a bit of washing-up (no...we do not have a dishwasher!!)made some jam and chatted with a friend. I'm hoping to go gooseberry picking with the kids after school. It may not have been busy, but it has been productive, fruitful...and full of fruit!!!

It is such a privilege to be used by God to stand alongside a friend in need. As my peers suffer, I want to be instrumental in their healing. I want to encourage them as they move closer to living the abundant life that Jesus offers.

Washing the dishes is HUGE for me. After about 9 years of depression, I am feeling very diffierent. I am able to wash, clean, hanging clothes out, put my kids to bed and enjoy my own company withou feeling guilty. God has, and is still, healing me. What an amazing God!!

And so...today I have been thoroughly productive and fruitful, and I feel very satisfied.

I'll be honest...I'm really not sure what to write about for this post. A few things are going around in my head that I do need to get out, to process, but I'm not sure that this is the place to do it. If it is the place to do it, then I'm not quite sure how to word it.

I have always been hugely frustrated by those who "speak their mind" with little regard for the ways in which it may affect others.

I am a huge (and unashamed) Big Brother fan. I love it's reality and I'm rather nosey, so being able to watch the interaction between other people, without feeling like I'm spying, is rather lovely. Obviously, Big Brother tends to feature rather dramatic characters and sometimes some "unsavoury behaviour." But I am not afraid of life in all its shades of black, white and grey. I enjoy eviction nights and the interviews with Davina, but I am hugely irritated by those people who, upon being asked if they have any regrets, reply, "D'ya know what, Davina? I was just being myself and speaking my mind."

When I hear these words being uttered, I want to shout, "Well, good for you!!! How clever you are for allowing all of your own characteristics to shine through (even if some of them are pretty rubbish.)? What a hero...." (note the sarcasm?!?!)

You see, we can all "speak as we find." We are all able to verbalise our opinions and feelings concerning others. It is very easy to make statements, whether helpful and uplifting or not, about the lives and habits of others. But, do we need to? Do we have the right? Should we not just shut up and mind our own business?

As a Christian, I am called (according to the Bible, which I believe to be the Word Of God), to "speak the truth in love". It can be difficult to speak the truth, if the truth may cost you your friendship with someone. If we are speaking the truth to another, it may hurt their feelings or cause them great distress. But it may help them to receive a bit of "tough love" by hearing about ways to improve an area of their lives. So, you see, being honest and real is very important. Many people use this verse from the Bible to justify some pretty harsh and rather sharp criticism. But it is the word "love" that needs to rule. It is from a loving heart that such "truth" should come. So, when we feel a need to "speak into each other's lives", let's do it with love in our hearts.

I have been vigorously shaken in my role as a Mum. I have seriously questioned my motivations in the ways I speak to, listen to, and spend time with my children. I have doubted myself beyond any other previous doubts. I have wondered if I deserve my husband, if I take him for granted and if our marriage is lacking in balance. I have worried, cried, lost sleep, and despaired. I have prayed, read my Bible and shared with close friends.

And I have come to a conclusion. The enemy wants me to fail. He wants me to suffer, and to give up on my children, my family and my marriage. I will not. I shall not be overcome by anxiety. I will not receive the enemy's interference. I will trust in the Truth of the Word of God. He has appointed and annointed me, according to His Will. He will never leave me nor forsake me. He will hide me under His wings. I will trust the truths spoken to me, in love, and I will stand against lies in the name of Jesus.

Yep, that's it...said and done...that is what I wanted to say. It has been processed, and I am free. Sometimes, blogging is so much more than a few comments on life.