TFTD - Freedom of the soul

“May today there be peace within. May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith. May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content knowing you are a child of God. Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us.” 

                                                                                               - St Therese of Lisieux -

TFTD - To love, to be loved, to be made divine

"The gift of the Holy Spirit closes the gap between the life of God and ours.  When we allow the love of God to move in us we can no longer distinguish ours and his; he becomes us, he lives us.  It is the first fruits of the Spirit, the beginning of our being made divine."

                                                                                                    - Austin Farrer -

TFTD - We have it all

"With the goodness of God to desire our highest welfare, the wisdom of God to plan it, and the power of God to achieve it, what do we lack?"

                                                                                        - A. W. Tozer -

Being Martha

"Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her." Luke 10:41-42

Most of us are familiar with the Biblical story of Mary and Martha, told in Luke 10:38-42. Jesus and his disciples were on their way, moving from town to town, village to village. At this particular village, Martha welcomed Jesus into her home. Martha scurried around, making sure there was food, shelter - everything her guests might need. She didn't stop for even a moment, not while there was still work to be done. Mary, meanwhile, sat at Jesus' feet and just listened to what he was saying. Eventually, tired and frustrated, Martha appeals to Jesus to tell Mary to get up and help her. And what does he do? He rebukes her!

At least, that is how I saw it for many years, and I must say, I took it deeply personally. I was as hurt as if Jesus had appeared before me, tutted, and told me off. Because I am, and always have been, very much a Martha. I do. If I'm not doing, I don't feel right. I don't feel that I'm living with purpose unless I'm trying my hardest to take care of everyone and everything. And there has always been a part of me very much in sympathy with my Biblical namesake; I too feel like saying to Jesus that it's all very well to sit and listen, but if that's all everyone ever did nothing would get done! And then where would we be? Jesus hit the nail on the head with me - I am worried and distracted by many things. 

But as with so many things, context is everything. The story of Mary and Martha is immediately preceded by the parable of the Good Samaritan, which suggests that comtemplating without doing is at best a futile exercise; at worst, it can cost a life. Yet Jesus tells Martha "there is need of only one thing" - to listen. So which is it?

Once I stopped being so offended at Jesus for speaking to Martha as he did, I grew puzzled. Because Martha was an important part of Jesus' ministry. Jesus could have provided food, water and shelter for himself and his followers but he didn't, not on this occasion anyway - Martha did. She provided hospitality and in doing so, helped make it possible for Jesus to provide for others, to do what was important for him to do. In her own small way, she helped to enable Jesus' ministry. Taking care of people was her ministry. Martha served. 

And perhaps this is why Jesus tells her to take a time-out. No one can keep going and going and going without burning out, as I have learned the hard way. Martha loves Jesus, so she serves him the best way she knows how. Jesus loves Martha, so he tells her she needs to strike a balance. He is not telling Martha her work is worthless, or to stop completely. He is telling her not to get so caught up in it that it takes over her life, that her purpose is lost in the sheer volume of tasks she takes upon herself. Jesus reminds Martha of the importance of giving him her undivided attention. 

Returning to the idea of context, I also think Jesus is offering Martha a kind of freedom. Jesus was unconventional, he challenged expectations; and I think he is letting Martha know she can do the same. At that time, in that place, a good woman's place was very much in the home, her role largely domestic. Women were not supposed to be scholars, or agents for social or political change. By allowing Mary to sit at his feet, Jesus was going against religious and social custom on at least two fronts. It was not quite the done thing to be in such close physical proximity to a woman one was not related to, nor was it usual for a Rabbi to be imparting his teachings to a woman. Jesus was inviting Martha to draw nearer to Him, and showing her she too could listen and learn. She did not have to be confined to a single role, important as that role was.

There is nothing wrong with Martha, nor is there anything wrong with Mary. But what I need in my life, what so many of us need, is to strike a spiritual balance between these two seemingly conflicting aspects of our personalities. As an inveterate Martha, it is such a gift to me to be reminded just to stop and listen. To be given permission to let go of my concerns, my busyness, the fragmented nature of my life, is a blessing indeed. To be invited to stop for a while, and just be with the God who loves me, is truly wonderful. To be reminded to listen, and be guided in my actions by what God has to say to me, by what he wants for me, is a necessity I have realised I cannot live without. 

I didn't fully appreciate the value of just listening until I drove myself to a breakdown. Even then, I found it almost impossible to stop. Sheer momentum, force of habit, and a distorted sense of self-worth tied to the accomplishment of concrete tasks kept me going. When I couldn't keep going, I became depressed. And then I lost my words. When I can't do, I begin to have trouble speaking, writing, sharing. I withdraw into myself, and I struggle to break free again. The sense of my own failure oppresses me and smothers my voice. I am so thankful to have people in my life who understand this, who point it out to me when it's happening, and who just keep loving me through the hard times. I am so thankful to the people who helped me understand this about myself, and who did (and keep doing) me the service of listening to me.

How ironic, that I have always valued myself by how much I can do for others - and the greatest gift I have been given is to be listened to, to be heard. Thank God for Mary! Thank Christ for the listeners! I have always been happy to be a listener, but I never appreciated this aspect of myself. I thought it was nothing. I thought it was not enough simply to be present - largely because I always thought I was not enough. I have had, for years, a monumental double standard when it comes to valuing service, with myself on one side, always having to do more and try harder, and everyone else on the other side, where it is enough that they just be who they are. 

It is temping to vilify Martha and exemplify Mary. It is tempting to dismiss Martha, as Jesus seemed to be doing. It is tempting to criticise Mary as being selfish, taking the opportunity to learn and letting Martha do all the work without offering to help. But the scripture is more complex than that, as life is more complex than that, as we are more complex than that.

It is not about being one or the other. We are called to be Martha: to provide food and shelter to all God's children, to nurse them when they are ill, to provide for their physical needs, to fill the need that surrounds us. We are also called to be Mary: to sit, to listen, to provide a safe space for people to tell their stories, to let people be heard. We are called to serve, and Jesus through his life has shown us just how many ways there are to do this, all of which mean something, all of which are part of the larger design. 

We are called to be like Jesus: to provide hospitality to everyone, even if - especially if - society considers them "second class" for some reason. We are called to make space at the margins, and to do what we can to free our brothers and sisters from the roles and ties that bind and oppress them. We are called to extend freedom to all God's children so that they can simply be. 

And that has to start with me. With you. We have to give ourselves the freedom to be who we are, and then just to be. 

TFTD - Meet you there

"Don't worry about tomorrow.  God is already there."

                                                                          - Unknown -

TFTD - Prayer is

"Prayer does not mean simply to pour out one's heart.  It means rather to find the way to God and to speak with him, whether the heart is full or empty."


                                                                       - Dietrich Bonhoeffer - 

TFTD - Help me live it *

"Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.  Where there is hatred let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy."

                                                                        - Francis of Assisi - 

It seems like the least we should be praying for, but oh how huge it really is! How crucial, how challenging, how small, how life-changing - like so much of God's work :)


*I pray this prayer in the spirit of yesterday's post. It's the same message, though obviously St Francis was much more articulate, concise, and got to the rub of the thing far more effectively!

Turning point

Today is my 30th birthday, generally considered one of life's milestones, and for various reasons I am not in a position to have any kind of celebration to mark it. Over the last few months, I suspected that this would be the case and was pre-emptively disappointed. What did it bode for the year to come if I couldn't have some serious fun even on this special day itself? It didn't look good for the next 365 days...

But why this fixation on turning 30? To be honest, it hasn't been so much about the number itself; it's not like I feel "old". If anything, I often feel more like a child than a grown-up. And that's probably part of what was bothering me. By 30, I was supposed to be a grown-up. I was supposed to be married, and have a child (or at least one on the horizon). I was supposed to be several rungs up the ladder of my chosen career. I was supposed to have a few mortgage payments under my belt. None of these things have happened, and it hasn't helped that it seems as if most of the people I grew up with have managed to achieve what I have failed to do. They have grown up and ticked the boxes we were all supposed to. If they could do it, why haven't I been able to?

I have worried about these things for years. People I love and trust have been telling me for at least the last couple of those years that all this anxiety is misplaced and unnecessary. What is all this "supposed to" talk? Who decided that there is only one way for life to go, and that if you take the scenic route rather than the expressway you might as well be walking around with a big fat red "F" on your chest, like some kind of post-modern scarlet woman? Of course, lots of people tell you, constantly, what is expected of you; and it is almost impossible not to listen and be affected. And a lot of the advice we are given is good - about working hard and being responsible and so on. But to be told that there is only one acceptable way to live?

I don't think anyone has the right to tell me exactly how I should live my life except God. And He has given me free will! What does that say? 

I have had so much time for contemplation this last year, and a lot of it was time I did not want. I wanted to be up and doing, not forced to keep still when I wanted to move forward. I spent so much time fighting the stillness, and the harder I fought, the more gently but firmly I was made to be still, until I resigned myself to it. Even that was not enough. Resignation, in my case at least, contained a strong element of resistance, and so more and more obstacles (for want of a better word) turned up and pushed me beyond what I thought were my boundaries, to a whole new place of stillness, until I began to learn acceptance. 

And now, I am so deeply deeply thankful that I was forced to learn this lesson. It has been a hard, painful few years, and there is still a struggle in front of me. I am pretty sure that I have only just begun to catch a glimpse of what God has been trying to show me, but that glimpse is changing my life. 

Finally, finally, I am letting go of all the "supposed to"s. I am letting go of everything that kept me toiling on the path I was on, banging my head against a brick wall, even though I knew in my heart of hearts it was wrong; even though I knew it was not my purpose. I don't "have" to do anything. But there is a lot that God has planned for me, and it is better than anything I can imagine for myself, even now. 

So, I am not going to rush into anything. I am not going to make any decisions based on what anyone else wants or expects. What happens next is between me and God, and having decided that feels more "right" than anything has in a long time. I think I know what I want to do, for the first time in my life. I've had this idea for some time, but I remained unsure because my vision was clouded by self-doubt and fear. Once I accepted that it was ok to make a mistake, I felt a lot happier about trying these new things.

It took a lot of pain and heartbreak, but I have come a lot closer to trusting unreservedly in the God I love so much. I needed to see that He would not let me go, no matter what. He has stood with me through all the awfulness of the last few years, never leaving me, never giving up on me, giving me what I needed to get through it, and more. He has kept teaching me, though it must have pained Him to watch me struggle as much as it hurt me to go through it. He has suffered with me, for my sake, though I have been able to give so little in return and can never match His love and selflessness. 

So, it is fitting that my 30th birthday will be a day of ordinary things. I will spend it making plans and running errands for a celebration in my late grandfather's honour. The 20th anniversary of his death falls on the 1st of March, and I would rather spend this time remembering him and his life. I am glad that I have been given the opportunity to spend my birthday in the service of another. There could be no better  way to begin the rest of my life. 

Do not be afraid

Do you ever get the sense that someone is trying to tell you something? I have spent a lot of time, especially in the last five or so years, wishing and hoping and praying that God would speak to me, give me direction, explain a few things - explain everything. I've always been a woman with a plan (usually at least a ten year plan) and I find it really difficult to not know what is coming next. For most of my life, I have fought, hard, to maintain as much control as possible over those aspects of living I thought I could control. I worked hard and tried my best, and expected things to turn out well because I had always been told that if I did what I was supposed to, if I did what was expected of me, I would get what I was striving for. 

And it worked, for a while. I accumulated degree after degree, and kept waiting for the happiness to kick in. I did all the things I was supposed to, and could not understand why that unspecified, nebulous something wonderful I was waiting for didn't seem to be materialising. Then the concrete markers of success began to fail me; or rather, I felt that I was beginning to fail - at life in general. I couldn't seem to achieve enough any more. After years of being a super-achiever, I seemed to hit a brick wall. My best was no longer good enough, for myself or for those I had been trying to please. Worst of all, I didn't really know why I was doing any of it. 

So, I started asking myself what I wanted (I'm not sure I know the answer yet by the way). And that led me, mercifully quickly, to asking what God wanted of and for me. Which led me to pleading for a word, a sign, something! Because discernment is hard (as so many of you know)! It is hard to try to hear what God might be saying to you, to listen to what you know or are discovering about yourself, to face what others have to tell you about yourself. What if you are asked to go in a direction you are not inclined to follow? What if it makes you uncomfortable, or doesn't match the plans and expectations you had for yourself? What if people say things to you about yourself you find difficult to just to hear, let alone truly confront? But how will you change and grow if you don't face these things? And you know what the really challenging thing is?

"In obedience to discernment, more discernment will come. We need to be attentive and alert in order to hear and understand God's call and then act, knowing that God blesses even our mistakes." (Unknown)

Well! That's all very well, but it's really challenging for a control-freak, type A personality like myself! And therein lies the rub: control. Or rather, relinquishing control. Anyone attempting any form of discernment (spiritual, directional, practical etc) is sooner or later going to come across some form of advice on getting out of one's comfort zone, making a leap of faith, letting go of whatever you've been holding on to so tightly... you get the picture. I don't know about you, but I find letting go absolutely terrifying. I have often thought that if I could get to the place where I can genuinely hand everything over to God, I would be so much happier. 

Because what a wonderful idea, what a generous offer! Hand it all over to God. Trust in Him. How positively restful! But much as I want to, I just. Can't. Do. It. I fight to retain some semblance of control, even as life proves to me how futile that is. And for me, what it all boils down to is fear. Fear of letting go, fear of failing, fear of the unknown, fear of disappointing everyone, fear that I am going to make some horrible, catastrophic, irreversible mistake. Fear that I am somehow going to lose everyone and everything. Nameless, bottomless, all-consuming fear.

Which is madness (but very human). What do I, who am so loved by my Father that He made the ultimate sacrifice for me, really have to fear? Sure, nasty things happen, but that is not the sum of the human experience. The cross did not make Christ's life less. 

So, what has God been saying to me? I haven't got the answer I've been praying for - but that might be because I'm asking the wrong question, or because I haven't learnt how to listen. There is still a lot of noise in my head and my heart drowning out the still small voice of the One who loves me. But what I have been told, again and again, in one form or another, is this: Do not be afraid. In preparing this blog post alone I randomly came across the following (and quite a bit more):

"Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God." (Corrie Ten Boom)

"All I have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all I have not seen." (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

"Do not be afraid. Our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift." (Dante Alighieri, Inferno)

It might not be the answer I was looking for (I do so love specifics). But it is what I need to hear, to comfort me, to strengthen me, and to move me forward. It is what I keep hearing, and so it is what I feel I have to share with you. Do no be afraid.

"None of us knows what might happen even the next minute, yet still we go forward. Because we trust. because we have Faith." (Paulo Coelho, Brida).

The Day's Result

The Day’s Result

Is anybody happier because you passed his way?

Does anyone remember that you spoke to him today?

The day is almost over and its toiling time is through;

Is there anyone to utter now a kindly word of you?

Did you give a cheerful greeting to the friend who came along,

Or a churlish sort of “Howdy”; then vanish in the throng?

Were you selfish, pure and simple, as you rushed along your way,

Or is someone mighty grateful for a deed you did today?

Can you say tonight, in parting with the day that’s slipping fast,

That you helped a single brother of the many that you passed?

Is a single heart rejoicing over what you did or said?

Does the man whose hopes were fading now with courage look ahead?

Did you waste the day or lose it, was it well or poorly spent?

Did you leave a trail of kindness, or a scar of discontent?

As you close your eyes in slumber, do you think that God would say,

“You have earned one more tomorrow by the work you did today?”

                                                                                - Unknown -

TFTD - Just a moment

"In the name of God, stop a moment, close your work, and look around you."

                                                                            - Leo Tolstoy -

The greatest thing you'll ever learn/ Is just to love/And be loved in return

"He will rip through every obstacle in your life if you put a demand on His passion. You have no idea how much He loves you."

                                                                             - Tommy Tenney -

Writing this, it suddenly occurs to me that I really do have trouble comprehending a love so vast. If I fully understood it, I think it would resolve a lot of my doubts, fears and anxieties and I would probably sleep a lot better at night! I ask what feels like a lot of God in my prayers, but to be honest I hold back a lot because a part of me feels like I have no right to ask for more. But why should I feel like that in the presence of a God who loves me so much that He gave His only begotten son for me? Who loves me so much that He forgives me everything, and is endlessly patient in the face of my innumerable mistakes and frailties? Who keeps on speaking to me, trying to get me to hear His words of love and to tell me what He wants for me even when I am so deafened by the voices in my own head that I usually can't get anywhere close to the silence I need to hear His still, small voice?

So why don't I ask for everything? God would give it to me, He really would, if I would only ask and truly trust and believe I would get it. Matthew 7:7-11 says:

"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!"

Now I really don't think that's in the Bible for fun. God's word means something; it means everything. and God tells us, if we ask, we shall receive. But we have to ask with our whole hearts. If I close my heart, or a part of it, to God, then I cut myself off from His blessings. If I won't open the door to God, how can He come in? God doesn't force His way in - He waits to be invited, willingly. If I am resisting God, because I can't fully trust Him, then I am also resisting the good He is trying to work in my life. 

God doesn't guarantee a world or a life free from pain or suffering, or even from pettiness and meanness. All that is part of the fallen world we live in, and the pain we choose to inflict on each other is a casualty of free will - which is not to say that free will is a bad thing. It just means that we have a responsibility, not only to ourselves but to one another. What God does promise is that He will be with us, right beside us, always, no matter what. You might still fall off your bicycle, but your heavenly Father will always be there to help you up, wipe away your tears, and cry with you, because your pain is His pain. 

So, I am trying to learn to call on His passion. Perfect love casts out fear, and His love is perfect. I feel fear because I don't allow myself to feel His love, because I don't truly believe I am worthy of being loved like that, or maybe even at all. But the point of God's love is there is no need to be worthy of it. We don't have to do anything to deserve it. It is not contingent on us. The only reason we are here at all is because God loves, so all we have to do is just be. Just be, and learn to be loved. I might never be able to fully grasp the breadth and depth of God's love, but I can try to learn to trust it, and accept it. Maybe then I'll get a little closer to living the life God wants for me, which must by definition be far more wonderful than anything I could possibly imagine for myself because it has come from a place of pure love. 

All I have to do is just be, and learn to be loved. The peace of the Lord be with you. 

Post #100 - Serendipity

I thought long and hard about what to write in this, my 100th post, because I wanted it to be special. And I came up with lots of things, which you'll get to read about over the next few weeks :) But what I ended up choosing pretty much chose me. I am a great believer in God's grace - all that I have been, all that I am and all that I aspire to and will ever be, I believe comes from the Grace of an ever-loving God. Very often, I have found that this grace manifests itself in what I can only call serendipity. For example:

- I never planned to meet the people who have become my most treasured friends; we were just put in the right place at the right time so we could share one another's lives.

- The best decision I have made for a good few years, I made in a moment of crisis and to this day I still can't tell you why I did it. My world was falling apart, I didn't know what to do or where to go, and a voice in my heart told me to knock on the college chaplain's door - I had seen him around but had never really spoken to him and my regular church was outside of college. I would not have made it through 2010 and beyond without Tim, Jane and so many wonderful people who came into my life through the Chaplaincy, but I honestly had nothing to do with the gift that was given me.

- The right word always seems to come my way just when I need it most, sometimes via totally random text message, usually from one of the spectacular people I'm privileged to call friend, often when they (and I) had no idea I needed to hear what they were going to say to me.

And while I was trying to decide what to write, three people wrote me three separate messages, all of which came at exactly the right time, and all of which touched my heart and made such a difference to me, though they couldn't have known that.

So, in honour of grace, serendipity, and the right word at the right time, I am posting a prayer below which itself only ever saw the light of day because of, well, serendipity! It's by Paolo Coelho and originally appeared on his blog. You can read the story here. For now, I am thankful for the grace of God that shines in my life, and in yours, whether we know it or not.

The prayer that I forgot (Paolo Coelho)

Lord, protect our doubts, because Doubt is a way of praying. It is Doubt that makes us grow because it forces us to look fearlessly at the many answers that exist to one question. And in order for this to be possible…

Lord, protect our decisions, because making Decisions is a way of praying. Give us the courage, after our doubts, to be able to choose between one road and another. May our YES always be a YES and our NO always be a NO. Once we have chosen our road, may we never look back nor allow our soul to be eaten away by remorse. And in order for this to be possible…

Lord, protect our actions, because Action is a way of praying. May our daily bread be the result of the very best that we carry within us. May we, through work and Action, share a little of the love we receive. And in order for this to be possible…

Lord, protect our dreams, because to Dream is a way of praying. Make sure that, regardless of our age or our circumstances, we are capable of keeping alight in our heart the sacred flame of hope and perseverance. And in order for this to be possible…

Lord, give us enthusiasm, because Enthusiasm is a way of praying. It is what binds us to the Heavens and to Earth, to grown-ups and to children, it is what tells us that our desires are important and deserve our best efforts. It is Enthusiasm that reaffirms to us that everything is possible, as long as we are totally committed to what we are doing. And in order for this to be possible…

Lord, protect us, because Life is the only way we have of making manifest Your miracle. May the earth continue to transform seeds into wheat, may we continue to transmute wheat into bread. And this is only possible if we have Love; therefore, do not leave us in solitude. Always give us Your company, and the company of men and women who have doubts, who act and dream and feel enthusiasm, and who live each day as if it were totally dedicated to Your glory.

New Year's Prayer

God grant us this year a wider view,
So we see others' faults through the eyes of You.
Teach us to judge not with hasty tongue,
Neither the adult ... nor the young. 

Give us patience and grace to endure 
And a stronger faith so we feel secure. 
Instead of remembering, help us forget
The irritations that caused us to fret. 

Freely forgiving for some offense
And finding each day a rich recompense.
In offering a friendly, helping hand 
And trying in all ways to understand; 

That all of us whoever we are ... 
Are trying to reach an unreachable star.
For the great and small ... the good and bad,
The young and old ... the sad and glad

Are asking today; Is life worth living? 
The answer is only in, loving and giving.
For only Love can make man kind
And Kindness of Heart brings Peace of Mind.

By giving love, we can start this year
To lift the clouds of hate and fear.


                                                                    - Helen Steiner Rice - 
* In memory of Max

The day breaks and the shadows flee this Christmas time

"I salute you. I am your friend, and my love for you goes deep. There is nothing I can give you which you have not already; but there is much, very much, which though I cannot give it, you can take. No heaven can come to us unless our hearts find rest in today. Take heaven. No peace lies in the future which is not hidden in this precious little instant. Take peace. The gloom of the world is but a shadow. Behind it, yet within our reach, is joy. There is radiance and courage in the darkness could we but see it; and to see, we have only to look. Life is so generous a giver, but we, judging its gifts by their coverings, cast them away as ugly or heavy or hard. Remove the covering, and you will find beneath it a living splendor, woven of love, and wisdom, and power. Welcome it, greet it, and you touch the angel's hand that brings it.

Everything we call a trial, a sorrow, a duty, believe me, that angel's hand is there, the gift is there, and the wonder of an overshadowing Presence. Our joys, too, be not content with them as joys. They, too, conceal diviner gifts. Life is so full of meaning and purpose, so full of beauty beneath its covering, that you will find earth but cloaks your heaven. Courage, then, to claim it, that is all! But courage you have, and the knowledge that we are pilgrims wending through unknown country our way home.

And so, at this Christmas time, I greet you, not quite as the world sends greeting, but with profound esteem now and forever.

The day breaks and the shadows flee away."

-This old Christmas greeting from a letter written between 1387-1455 by Giovanni da Fiesole (Fra Angelico)

The warrior's gift

There once was a boy named Kimeli Naiyomah. A member of a Masai tribe, he grew up in a small rural town near the Masai Mara National Reserve in Kenya. The town had no water, roads, phones or electricity.  Kimeli had no father, his grandmother had been murdered, and his mother was battling alcoholism. One day, Kimeli went to the hospital with his ailing mother. He didn't know what the people who helped her were called, but he knew he wanted to be a healer, just like them. 

No one Kimeli knew had ever gone to school, much less to university. There was no such thing in his village. But Kimeli had a dream. He wanted to learn. So he ran away, to another village where he had heard children were being taught under a tree. What was under that tree was a church school, and it became Kimeli's school as well as his home. 

When he outgrew the school under the tree, Kimeli found the nearest secondary school - nine hours away on foot. He walked to the school and told the principal he had no money, no shoes, no books, no uniform and no family, but he wanted to learn. The principal welcomed him with open arms. 

By now, Kimeli knew the name of the person he wanted to become: Doctor. He started applying to universities in America, and the elders of his tribe got together and raised $5,000 to help him achieve his goal. A Washington Post reporter somehow got wind of Kimeli's story, and came to his village to write an article about him. The article inspired an outpouring of support, including a scholarship offer from the University of Orgeon, a plane ticket from a businessman in Florida, and clothes and other essentials paid for by yet another total stranger. 

Kimeli enrolled at the University of Oregon in 1996, and after getting his grades up, was later admitted to Stanford. Kimeli became a celebrity in Kenya. In September 2001 the President of Kenya was scheduled to be in New York and Kimeli was invited to meet him. That is how Kimeli came to be in New York on September 11, 2001. 

As a Masai warrior, Kimeli had been trained to run to the scene of a crisis, not away from it. He knew he could not help at Ground Zero, but he also knew he had to do something for the country that had given him so much. So, on a trip home in May 2002, Kimeli asked to meet the elders of his tribe. He told them all about 9/11, which many of his people hadn't even heard of. They could not imagine buildings so tall and had never seen an aeroplane. 

Kimeli wanted to buy a cow, the most precious property a Masai can own, and give it to the American people. In Kimeli's tradition, a cow is not only tremendously valuable, but is also thought to bring great comfort to its owner. Kimeli just wanted his elders' blessing, but the elders were so inspired by his plan that they wanted to do the same thing. In the end, 14 cows were pledged to America to help bring her peace. 

In June 2002, US charges d'affaires William Brencick travelled to Kimeli's village to formally accept the cows. More than a thousand people were in attendance, bearing messages of support like "We are touched by your loss" and "We give these cows to bring you peace".  But logistical and monetary problems prevented the US from taking possession of the cows. It would cost more than the cows were worth to transport them, and African cattle were not allowed in the US. There was also concern that the cows would not survive the journey. The Masai could not understand why the US accepted the gift but did not take the cows away. Washington Times columnist Tony Blankley wondered how the US could get 80,000 troops into Afghanistan but could not get 14 cattle out of Africa. 

Four years later, all was made right. The then-US Ambassador travelled to Kimeli's village to strike a deal for the tribe to take care of "America's herd" in perpetuity. In return, and in gratitude, the Ambassador announced the establishment of a scholarship for 14 boys and girls in the village to go to local schools. Those scholarships continue to this day, and the herd continues to grow. Since the original herd was blessed, they and their descendants are considered sacred and can never be slaughtered. Kimeli's tribe lovingly tends 35 "American cattle", all of which have special Twin Towers markings on their ears. 

Hope

A lot of the time, it seems so hard to hold on to any kind of hope, to any shred of optimism that things are going to get better. And if I did not have a belief that refuses to be shaken, I don't think I could do it. (Let it be said that I think that holds true whatever it is that you, believe. The thing is to have something that guides you, something to hold on to, whether it's the God of the Bible, Torah or Quran, the teachings of Buddha or the Bhagavad Gita. I just think human beings need some kind of compass, or why would so much of human endeavour be devoted to some kind of search for meaning?)

Anyway, I say it's my belief that refuses to be shaken, because it's certainly not me. Most of the time, I am weak, confused, terrified, desperate for answers and generally about as a stable as a weeping willow in a gale. But there is a tiny, tenacious something that lives inside me that is always quiet with the peace of certainty, always alive, and always strong enough to keep the million pieces of the rest of me together. And that something is not of my doing. It was a gift that was given to me without my asking, because the Giver loved me so much He gave his only son for me, and sticks with me even when I'm at my worst, and probably not very lovable. That's my personal explanation. It's ok if you don't agree, or believe what I do. It's not about everyone having to believe the exact same thing; I'm just telling you what it's like for me. It's incredibly comforting to know you are loved like that.

So, I have hope. And I have hope because I have faith, or rather because Faith has me, and "...faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." (Hebrews 11:1)

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune - without the words,
And never stops at all,


And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.


I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

                                            - Emily Dickinson - 

I believe

There are times in our lives when the world seems to be crumbling around us, when like Chicken Little we think the sky is falling, when it feels like if something can go wrong it will. Feeling like this, it's been hard to think of something positive to write. But I know it's not just me. Every day, people live with personal, community, and national struggles. The war(s) at home and abroad, unrest in the Arab nations, the fight for political transparency in Malaysia, and now the UK riots which for some of us have brought real fear to our doorsteps for the very first time - how sad it is that this isn't an exhaustive list of all the suffering we live with.

When we feel trapped in a downward spiral and are perilously close to dangling at the end of our rope with a fast-numbing hand, fear often takes hold of us. Fear persuades us that an improvement is next to impossible, that we are ensnared in a trap from which there is no escape. Fear fills the void left by hope. It doesn't matter how brave you are; fear somehow finds a way in. Feeling fear does not make you weak; facing it makes you strong.

On my bedroom wall, I have a post-it with the following verse:

"I believe in the sun
 Even when it does not shine,
I believe in love
Even when there's no one there,
And I believe in God
Even when He is silent."

Many of you will know, this is from the poem of belief, scrawled on the wall of a Nazi concentration camp by an anonymous Jewish prisoner. In response to a rant from me, my friend Bex sent me the full text of the poem as a source of support, encouragement and inspiration. So with thanks to Bex for the idea for this week's post, I'd like to share the poem with you here.

"I believe in the sun
even when it does not shine,
I believe in love
even when I am alone,
and I believe in God,
even when He is silent.

I believe through any trial
there is always a way,
but sometimes in this suffering
and hopeless despair
my heart cries for shelter,
to know someone is there.
But a voice rises within me, saying hold on
my child, I'll give you strength,
I'll give you hope. Just stay a little while.

I believe in the sun
even when it is not shining.
I believe in love
even when I am alone.
And I believe in God
even when He is silent.
I believe through any trial,
there is always a way.

May there someday be sunshine.
May there someday be happiness.
May there someday be love.
May there someday be peace."

(For those of you who look to the Bible for solace and guidance, Psalm 27 offers the same hope. "The Lord is my light and my salvation - whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life - of whom shall I be afraid?")

Whatever you believe, keep hope alive.

May you be happy, and may you find peace.

You

First of all, my apologies for the radio silence. Most of you who read this will know that it's been a tough few months, and at times it's been physically impossible for me to update this blog. There have been other times however, that I haven't written because there's been too much going on in my head or heart, or it's been too intense. And that has been a mistake. The whole reason I started this blog was to remind myself, and others, that when things are looking down, even when your life seems like it is in teeny tiny little pieces and you can't see how you can ever put it back together, there is always something to be thankful for. I stand by that, because I genuinely believe it. That said, knowing that in your heart and really seeing and feeling it for yourself are two different things. 

You would think that the darker it is, the easier it should be to see even the faintest glimmer or light. But there are places where the darkness feels literally all consuming and the light seems to have less of a chance than a snowball in hell. To accept that is to underestimate the light. There is nowhere it cannot shine. And before I write about any of the myriad other blessings that have continued to turn up even when I thought the darkness was winning, it is imperative that I say thanks for the most important one. 

You. In no particular order:

Emma C, who has been praying and texting and loving me every single day - and letting me know. 

Tim D and Jane S, who it is not an exaggeration to say saved my life. 

Nadine G and Narissa R, who have been faithful, loving friends for quite a while now, and whom I know will always be there for me. Thank you for standing by me. 

Egle, my darling, multi-talented, fun, loving, loyal, amazing friend. Thank God for you.

Zoya, endlessly patient with me and so giving. Hooray for the scary meeting! You and Hassan are generous and hilarious :) And please tell Hassan I want another sing-along. 

Marcus S, nothing can replace the weekly coffees and putting the world to rights, and I hope we can resume them soon! But that's the least of what a good friend you've been. 

Rupert S, my fellow foodie, you might be the most entertaining person I've ever met, and that's helped a lot in the past couple of years. Your discipline and talent are an inspiration.
Zainab A, my soul sister. You have helped me grow in my faith so much.

Siobhan G, you have the biggest heart, and how you make me laugh :) And thanks for coming to church with me. 

Shanon S, omg, where to start? Possibly with the day we took a bus to Denmark Hill?

Amy M, I'm so glad we found each other :) Tea, prayer, long chats, a good laugh and so much more. You're beautiful, outside and in. 

Liz W, so intelligent and so caring. You and Amy will make wonderful lady-vicars! Coffee, hugs, scandalising men at the next table trying to have dinner, Knitterati...the list goes on. 

Bex W, you've been a star. All the sharing helped me work so many things out, and I'm sure BT was v sad when we switched to Skype!

Till A, thank you for the music, and the friendship. You know, I hope.
Rosie W, for lunches by the river, chats with horsies, and a very special weekend at Wantage. 

Elizabeth S, how wise you are. 

Robert C, isn't it lucky you didn't mind that a strange woman randomly insisted on hugging you? And you may be the most naturally talented knitter in the world. Ever. 

Jack D, my brother in Christ :)
Rowan A, you are so gifted, and so giving. And you appear to have a hollow leg...

Polly P, one of the v v v few people who talks as much as I do!

Adam and Hubert, whom I know will always be there, any time, no matter what. Even though I hardly see you!
Wendy T, thanks for reminding me that if DHS can't kill you, nothing can!
Tracey C, you are such a strong woman, and I am SO glad you are on my side. You're the best thing Welsh Boy ever did for me! And Tina P-J is a nice bonus :)

Alyshea K, guaranteed giggles, need I say more?

Sister Barbara Claire and all the amazing sisters at Wantage, who bless everyone they cross paths with so much love, prayer and such a safe, peaceful space.

I've probably missed out a load of people, but that doesn't mean I don't love you. It just means I'm a ditz. 

Knitterati

Every Tuesday afternoon, Knitterati meets in the Waterloo chaplaincy. We sit, we knit, we drink tea, we chat, and we make terrible jokes and fall about laughing. At Knitterati, there will always be someone to make you a cup of tea or coffee, and to teach you to knit if you don't already know how. You can rant about whatever is currently infuriating you, and the knitting circle will embrace you. Literally. It's an excellent place to let off some steam, and boy do we ever. J, our chaplain, must feel like she's in charge of a roomful of very naughty, highly caffeinated and over-sugared children. And indeed she is. Which is not to say there is no room for adult conversation. It's just that we tend to cover a wide variety of topics. It must be the only place aside from Radio 4's Woman's Hour where you get discussions on everything from root vegetables to torture over the course of the same session.  Today, for instance, the conversation included knitting technique, sex, religion, food, the role of social networking in modern politics and warfare, relationships, pigeons (disposal of), the augmentation of the Maltese air force, moral philosophy, literature, tweed, vocations and hats. I kid you not. And I've probably left out quite a lot of material. But you get the picture. Anything goes, because Knitterati is a safe space (will all the knitters please stop giggling!). 

Usually, the demographic Knitterati attracts is mainly female - don't throw a hissy fit S, I did say mainly! Today however, was a special day. We had two, count them, two, men present, besides the usual chaps who happen to be passing through, or who have already embraced knitting (we only have one committed specimen of the latter and he is precious to us). These rare creatures were D and RC. D did not knit, but with his magnificent moustache, his tweed, his Indiana Jones hat and his sense of humour, his entertainment value is a significant contribution to any gathering. 

RC however, was a triumph. RC is one of our sacristans, and a couple of us spent quite a bit of time over the weekend trying to persuade him to come to Knitterati and have his life enriched. And he came! He didn't condescend, he didn't mock us - no, he learnt to knit! And may I say, he is a natural. He mastered the basic stitch in about 10 seconds, produced a professional-looking square, and even cast off with only a minor mishap. RC might be the quickest student we have ever had.

The point of all this is that Knitterati is not just a knitting circle. It is a place to unwind and have fun, and it is an oasis of positivity and peace in the midst of a very stressful world. I am thankful for J's original (inspired) idea, and for all the ladies (and gentlemen) who make it what it is - a blessing.