Grace by coffee

In between much Land Law teaching today, I popped into a popular sandwich place for something to eat and, more importantly, life giving COFFEE. As I stood in line, my boss called with some crisis which required me to explain some boring aspect of Land law to a colleague. This probably caused me to look rather more harassed than I was feeling - though in point of fact I was well and truly sick of Land by this time, was tired because I couldn't sleep last night, really wanted tomorrow to get here now because I shall be doing something fun then, and Just. Wanted. My. Coffee. 

I finally placed my order, which arrived just as I managed to end the phone call. At this point, I discovered that the man who'd been in the queue parallel to mine had paid for my coffee and lunch along with his own! He hadn't waited for me to realise this, or to be thanked. He had just quietly done his good deed, smiled at me, and gone on his way. But gosh did his act of grace and kindness make my day! Now I just need to pay it forward...

Lost and found

Almost a year ago, something began which I thought would bring me joy. And it did, for a while. But very quickly, the situation took me (or I allowed myself to go) to a place of darkness, pain and sorrow. It was so bad that I stopped writing. I lost my words, part of the core of my being. I lost part of my self. Those who know me well will know how significant this was. When I go silent for too long, it's not a good sign. I went quiet, I went numb with the constant hurt, and I misplaced my backbone.

 

If not for the friend who asked me where the woman she knew and loved had gone, I might still be there. If not for the friends who loved me, supported me, let me cry, didn't judge me, fed me tea and cake, listened to me, kept me company, protected me, held my hand, helped me heal and reminded me who I was, I would probably still be a puddle on the floor.

 

Instead, I have returned! I am strong, beautiful, alive, happy! So, thank you: Charli, Tina, Simon, Tracey, Rob C, Rob M, Henri, Till, Maddy, Nat, Bethan, Emma C, Siobhan, Emma A, Elizabeth S, Jane, Yiwen, Suwei, Bobby, Zoya, Egle, Dominika, and many more. Like the stars, I know you're always there - wherever in the world we are.

 

Thanks to you, I was lost but now I'm found! And the words are back :)

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 - what a wonderful world

"Never say there is nothing beautiful in the world anymore. There is always something to make you wonder in the shape of a tree, the trembling of a leaf."

                                                                                        - Albert Schweitz -

Your presence is peace

A couple of posts back,  I wrote about how it can sometimes feel like God is trying very hard to get a message across. He knows us so well, He knows exactly what speaks to that place within us that wants to hear Him. I think this is particularly true in those times that we find it hardest to hear His voice, or when we don't want to listen in case He says something we don't want to hear. Personally, I find it difficult not only to hear God but to talk to Him when I am in pain, or otherwise in a dark place. It's not that I don't want to; those are the times I want communion with Him more than ever. I just can't. I'm too distracted by the storm. I can't hear Him for the roaring of the wind, I can't see Him for the ten-foot waves between us, I can't feel him for the rocking of my little boat. 

So I go away in search of silence, and the first thing I see on walking into this place is a board with these words: "Serenity is not freedom from the storm, but peace amid the storm". It's the message of Matthew 14:22-32, the same one that's been coming at me from all directions lately. Peace amid the storm, stillness in its midst. The world does not have to come to a standstill for us to be at peace. The peace of the Lord passeth all understanding, and it is where God is, which is everywhere. God is always there. We may leave, but He is constant, waiting with open arms for us to come back and be comforted, celebrated, cherished, loved. 

Which is all very well, but how do you find this peace when the reality of life as you are living it is anything but? I wish there were an easy answer, but it's complicated. Because we are human, and imperfect. Because it is connected to our relationship with God, and relationships are complicated. Because an ant can only see so much of a mountain at once. So I don't have the answer, and there isn't a magic wand we can wave, but something helpful has come my way. This is what was prayed at evening prayer, the night I had spent the whole day asking God how to find the still place.

You, Lord, are in this place.

Your presence fills it, 

Your presence is peace. 

You, Lord, are in my heart. 

Your presence fills it, 

Your presence is peace. 

You, Lord, are in my mind. 

Your presence fills it, 

Your presence is peace. 

You, Lord, are in my life. 

Your presence fills it, 

Your presence is peace. 

Help us, oh Lord, to know that we dwell in You and You dwell in us, this day and for evermore.

That's a pretty good place to start, don't you think?

Copyright Martha S. 2012

Are you there, human? It's Me, God.

Do you ever get the feeling God/the universe is trying to tell you something? I spend quite a lot of time asking God questions, ranging from "what am I supposed to be doing with my life?" to "why can't I just eat cake all the time?" - and He never, but never, seems to give me a direct answer. Most annoying, but I suspect God doesn't work that way for most people. What I think He does do is keep open the lines of communication from His end; God constantly reaches out to us, but we don't always see or hear him, because sometimes we just can't or just don't want to. It's scary to listen to God. He might be saying something you really don't want to hear, and what happens then? So we put up walls, or I do anyway - because I am scared, suspicious, stubborn, worried, angry, or for whatever reason have too much internal noise to hear the still small voice of God. 

He is always there though. That is the point of Him. He doesn't go away. Not ever, believe it or not, and it can be so hard to believe it sometimes, even if you know it. And while most of us probably don't have daily visions of Him, or hear him a la the Metatron in Dogma or Morgan Freeman in Bruce Almighty (you might, I don't), I do believe He tries to get through to us all the time. He is there in prayer, in the people we meet, in the books we read, the music we hear, the art we create, the world He has made - look at a sunrise or a sausage dog and tell me God had nothing to do with that.

This is all wonderful but not terribly specific. However, now and then I think there is something God really wants us to hear, and then I think He goes all out to make sure we get the message. Now I don't know about you but I tend to be fairly oblivious and usually need to be hit over the head with it before I get it. And that's the kind of week I've had. Everywhere I've turned, every other person I've spoken to, every random moment I've experienced, I've been hearing the same thing.

There's this great story in Matthew 14:22-32: Jesus has fed the five thousand, and tells the disciples to get in a boat and cross the lake at Galilee while he goes off alone to pray. A storm arises in the middle of the night when the boat is far from the shore and everyone panics. Jesus walks out on the water to the boat, and everyone freaks out, convinced he's a ghost or spirit. Jesus tells them not to worry, it's just him, and Peter says, "If it really is you, tell me to come to you on the water." Jesus does so, and Peter start to walk towards him on the water. Everything is fine while Peter keeps his eyes on Jesus, then he notices the wind, panics, and starts to sink. He cries out, "Lord, save me!", and Jesus reaches out to him and catches him saying, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?". And when Peter and Jesus climbed into the boat, the wind died down - at which point the relieved disciples worshipped him saying, "Truly You are the Son of God."

Wonderful, and so apt for me at the moment. I feel a lot like Peter; as long as I keep my focus on the Lord, everything's fine - or at least I feel like it's all going to be ok. I trust. But I get distracted, and panic, and then I flail. It reminds me of when I was learning to play the piano and my teacher used to get me to memorise the music. I'd be playing along from memory quite happily, with the score in front of me "just in case", and it would be perfect until I suddenly realised I hadn't turned the page in ages, doubted myself, and my beautiful Chopin would collapse into a rubble of dischord and missed notes. Oh you of little faith, why did you doubt?

I also feel a lot like the disciples: I'm inclined not to really believe with all my heart until the storm has been calmed. The problem is, some storms keep raging for a lot longer than I can keep my focus. 

Anyway, everywhere I have turned recently I have been hit over the head with Matthew 14. I went to the BBC Proms for the first time this year, and randomly chose a performance of Elgar's The Apostles - guess what a big chunk of that was about? My favourite stained glass window in my new church (shown to me by the lovely, intuitive vicar who thought it would speak to me) depicts - you guessed it - Jesus calming the storm. The readings in every other service/bible study/random discussion I've had in the last week or so? Matthew 14. The passage a spiritual director gave me to read on retreat? Matthew 14. 

You think He's trying to tell me something? I don't believe in coincidence, but I do believe in a divine plan of such magnificent scale that it's beyond my comprehension. And in the meantime, while my bark is tempest tossed, it's rather nice to know that He will calm the storm and as long as I keep my eyes on Him, anything is possible.

The lady and the cushion; the man and the tea

This is really two posts in one, two stories I felt I needed to tell. They are separate, but connected by what they meant to me, and by the loving place they came from. 

The Lady and the Cushion

I went away on retreat over the weekend, to a still, peaceful place where beauty lives. It was a gift I decided to give myself, but the giving of it cost me a lot, because I find it difficult to be kind to myself - as I suspect a lot of people do. Anyway, I spent the first couple of days in silence, trying to quiet all the internal noise I put between myself and God. For me, this is a worthwhile exercise, and a necessary once, but it's also emotionally intense and I find it challenging on many levels. The point of me telling you this is to explain that by the time Sunday morning rolled around, I was in a vulnerable place - not that this was a bad thing, but when you make the effort to open your heart, take an honest look at what's inside and turn your will to being receptive, it's going to feel raw. 

So that's where I was on Sunday morning. It was a gorgeous sunny day and after breakfast I took myself off to a quiet spot by the lake just to sit and be. It had rained the night before, so the wooden bench I chose was well and truly cold and damp but I couldn't be bothered to move so I was prepared to put up with it. It wasn't conducive to calm and relaxation though!

A few minutes later, one of the women also there on retreat came trotting cross the lawn, lugging an enormous cushion. "Right young lady, you haven't been well and you cannot, you simply cannot, sit there getting cold and damp. Honestly, it can't be comfortable! Now you sit on this, you'll feel much better." And so saying, Eileen hauled me (gently) out of my seat by the elbow, plopped down and plumped this cushion, sat me back down, threw a rug over my knees and strode away again without another word. The whole exchange probably took less than a minute but it touched me to the very core of my heart and changed the complexion of that day for me. This kind woman had seen me from the house, and decided that I couldn't be allowed to sit on a wet bench slowly freezing. She didn't have to do it, and I know it sounds like a small thing, but it was just this pure expression of loving kindness, no strings attached, and it made all the difference to me. Because the truth was that I didn't love myself enough to care for my comfort, and to find that someone else could and did was incredibly moving. God was there, in that moment, in that love. 

The man and the tea

This is something that happened a couple of years ago, and I don't know if I've since told the person involved how significant that moment was for me. If not, I hope he'll know now. 

My world had been gradually crumbling for some time, and on this day I reached a point of total collapse. There was only one place, one person I felt I could go to and so I did - even though we'd never met and he didn't know me from Eve. I will say until my dying day that God led me there, because I certainly didn't know what to do. This nice man listened to me, and really heard me, and has continued to be there for me, all of which has meant so much to me a little blog post isn't going to do it justice. But you know what rocked my world? He made me a cup of tea. That's it. That's what changed everything. Because I could not remember the last time anyone had done that for me. I'm usually the tea-maker, the care-giver, the organiser, the Martha. To be taken care of in that small way was the most loving thing I had experienced in a very long time, and it did something to my heart. It made healing possible; I felt it, but it took me a long time to understand.

The point of all this is that it doesn't take a lot. Grand gestures not necessary. A random act of kindness, which costs you nothing, can change someone's world. These two blessed mine, and I give thanks for them. 

TFTD

"We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give."

                                                                               - Winston Churchill -

TFTD - worth remembering

"Always be kind, for everyone is fighting a hard battle."

                                                                - Plato -

The brolly in the downpour

A couple of Sundays ago, I emerged from church to be greeted by sunshine and a glorious blue sky, so I thought I'd go for a walk. Fair enough you'd think, in London in the summer. True, it had been raining first thing in the morning. But I'm a Londoner, so I always have a little umbrella in my bag and even if it did rain I should be fine. 

That's what I thought. But what happened as I was strolling along the King's Road was not so much a summer shower as a deluge. My little red umbrella with the pretty white hearts all over it was no match for the downpour. It had developed into one of those horizontal rains that comes at you from all sides, so that all of you is democratically drenched. I gave up and darted into the shelter of the nearest doorway, resigned to waiting it out. I had somewhere else to be but there was no point in even trying to get there if I were only going to arrive looking like a drowned rat (said the vain, vain woman). 

Just as I reached the foot-tapping stage of impatience (which took about five minutes) diversion arrived in the form of a man who had apparently decided to share my doorway. This is spite of the fact that he had not one but two enormous umbrellas over his arm -  a standard black one and a really pretty one with a pink handle, covered in roses. I was admiring this floral confection when the man held it out to me and said, "Here young lady, this is for you! That dress is too pretty to ruin in this rain." He offered me the umbrella, and I began to protest but he cut me off. "Please take it, I saw you from down the street and popped into this shop to buy it for you. It's a gift, no strings attached, just because it's Sunday and it will please me to make someone's day a little nicer."

So I thanked him, opened this gorgeous birdcage brolly and stepped out into the street, dry as a bone. "Thank you so much, this is so kind, you've made my day!" I said, genuinely thrilled. "Then you've made mine," he replied, and we went our separate ways. 

That was it. That man was a total stranger and we will probably never see each other again. He didn't have to do what he did. It was a random act of kindness, a gift given freely; it was a timely reminder of God's love and how we can be an expression of that love, one day at a time, one random act of love at a time.

TFTD - the name of love

“Forgiveness is the name of love practiced among people who love poorly. The hard truth is that all people love poorly. We need to forgive and be forgiven every day, every hour increasingly. That is the great work of love among the fellowship of the weak that is the human family.” 

                                                                                             - Henri J.M. Nouwen -

TFTD - pleasing, delighted in, loved

"To please God...to be a real ingredient in the divine happiness...to be loved by God, not merely pitied, but delight in, as an artist delights in this work or a father in a son...it seems impossible, a weight or burden of glory which your thoughts can hardly sustain.  But it is so!"

                                                                                               - C. S. Lewis -

TFTD - A little less conversation, a little more action please

"He preaches well who lives well.  That's all the divinity I know."

                                                                                      - Miguel de Cervantes -

Offline, and completely present

Some of you may have noticed (and many of you probably didn't!) my absence from the world of Facebook, e-mail, Blogger, and the internet in general. I realise it might be a bit late to say this, but don't panic! Nothing is/was wrong. I was not lying in a ditch somewhere, or in a hospital. I had not lost the will to live, there was no catastrophe - well, not more so than usual :) I was just going to spend a month seeing friends and decided that I would quite like to be with them, right then and there, in the moment. I wanted to be completely present, to be able to give my total attention to the people who are important to me; not sitting at the same table updating some online account instead of engaging with the person in front of me (ps a little phone activity is fine provided one recognises one is stepping outside of the moment and acknowledges that, and steps right back in toute suite!).

No, nothing was wrong; everything was right. We are so used to coordinating our lives online, but I really did not feel I had lost anything by choosing to opt out for a little while. My friends accepted my lack of internet access (almost) without a murmur, and we all adapted fairly quickly! Everyone I wanted to see has my mobile number and I theirs, so getting in touch was not a problem. Where contact details were missing, there was always a mutual friend to bridge the gap. On occasion, we even made plans for future meetings face to face! One friend came to London from Germany (and I will be forever touched and grateful for the 19-hour coach trip he endured each way), and didn't bring his phone. There was me with no internet, him with no phone, and surprise surprise, we managed to coordinate an initial meeting and then several more, and I saw lots more of him than I did of other, technically more accessible people :) We found a way, and I was reminded that when you really do love someone, when you really do want to see them, you will make the effort and you will find a way.

There is something incredibly life-affirming, and love-affirming, about taking the time to slow down for the sake of another person. For no particular reason, just because you want to. Without the instant, constant updates, I spent a lot more time having real conversations with people I care about. We talked, often over coffee/tea and cake, about things we probably would not have "chatted" about. We went for walks, we wandered into the unexpected, we encountered beautiful things, people and places we did not and could not have planned to, but which lit up our world for a moment. I felt, for the first time in a long time, that I was living life and not merely passing through.

I am back online now and glad to be, because this is an important means of communications and it enables me to keep in touch with a lot of people I would otherwise probably simply lose contact with. I don't think the internet is a bad thing, far from it. I just think it's nice to be reminded from time to time that it's a tool, not something that should define us or our relationships. So, while I am glad to be back, I am not going to forget in a hurry that my world, online and off, would be nothing without the communities and individuals that people it, and bless me with the sharing of their love, support, friendship, joys, sorrows, brilliant ideas, laughter, prayer, hugs and so much more. My world would be nothing without you. 

TFTD - thank you

"There is power in gratitude to heal us spiritually, emotionally, and relationally."

                                                                                                      - Kerry & Chris Shook -

TFTD - You're just too good to be true

"It's too bad I'm not as wonderful a person as people say I am, because the world could use a few people like that."

                                                                                                 - Alan Alda -

We can but try!

TFTD - so little time

"I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see."

                                                                                        - John Burroughs -

TFTD - No time like the present

"You who are letting miserable misunderstandings run on from year to year, meaning to clear them up some day; you who are keeping wretched quarrels alive because you cannot quite make up your minds that now is the day to sacrifice your pride and kill them; you who are letting your neighbor starve until you hear that he is dying of starvation or letting your friend's heart ache for a word of appreciation or sympathy, which you mean to give him some day; if you could only know and see and feel all of a sudden that time is short, how it would break the "spell."  How you would go instantly and do the thing which you might never have another chance to do."

                                                                                                   - Phillips Brooks -

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 - Faith and love; light and warmth

"Faith, like light, should always be simple and unbending; while love, like warmth, should beam forth on every side, and bend to every necessity of our brethren."

                                                                            - Martin Luther -