Monday, December 14, 2009

Insight into humanity

What I would call a Very Telling found poem, that I read on Verbatim (link) (which I've told you about enough already).


I want to

I want to die.
I want to break free lyrics. I want
to be anorexic.

I want to break free.
I want to be skinny; I want
to be a model.

I want to be thin.
I want to lose weight; I want
to know what love is

lyrics. I want
to get pregnant.


Google searches speaking of people searches, much? What is this world a-coming to.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

The beginning of the end

What with it being the start of December I am tempted to say: "what happened to the last 6 months?" The first half went crazy slow but since about mid-June it has whizzed by in a blur. Not a particularly nice blur but I suppose if it's hard you want it to hurry out of the way. However, I will do no 'reviewing the year' until the actual end.

I started this post yesterday and filled it up with loads of babble and excuses about things I wasn’t going to say. Then I found a point and decided that, in my new incarnation as Editor, I would cut the crap and deliver.

It started when I put on my ipod – to block out the sound of inane Starbucks babble – and 'All good things come to an end'(link) by Nelly Furtado came on.

This year, with all its horror that I praise God for (sometimes joyfully, sometimes begrudgingly, sometimes blatantly failingly) I still see Good things (and by Good I mean the kind that I can appreciate as good and not just take on faith) that have happened. And lots of those have come, or are coming, to an end. I suppose friendship and community and what my life in Bristol is about are all obvious examples. I’m writing in Starbucks Borders - my city centre living room/office with so much history and familiarity - and it is closing in as little as 2 weeks. One less piece of contact with the world as I knew it. So much ending. I have been in semi-stasis these past couple of months but actually a lot is now properly finishing. For good. Finito. Or at least, I am at last noticing it clearly.

I find myself asking all sorts of question, for example: what is the fate of this blog when I spend most of my new life writing other things; when I have an aspiration to pursue actual “careers”; when I get bored and restless 'cause I have a terrible attention span and can be quite fickle with where I give my heart to? I'm not saying I’m quitting again, just thinking out loud.

But as I started 'Analogise That!' with a post about life from death(link), then very soon saw a whole lot of death - both the negativity of "death" in circumstances and the real deal - I have come to see that endings really are a part of life. But not the end of life, because all the good that comes as a result is real and apparent and full of redemption. Like my ‘Cat of Redemption’(link), who has gone from hiding out on our neighbour's shed roof to being the most affectionate darling creature ever.

[Aside: I learned a new word – ‘Bathos’ – and it means the ‘unintentional lapse in mood from the sublime to the trivial or ridiculous’. It is just me or is this blog sometimes a bit like that? Not that I think it matters. In fact, I kinda think that’s the point…]

I fully don't know what is coming next today, this month, in 2010 and beyond... but I know that for all the things that finish there will be something of life that springs from it; something bigger and better. Which does remind me of this thing Jesus said once:

"I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat is planted in the soil and dies, it remains alone. But its death will produce many new kernels—a plentiful harvest of new lives." John 12:24 (NLT)

Plus, if you believe his death leads to our redemption, it is an even greater (nay greatest) example of the idea that every time something dies, something better comes along and the world ends up being better overall; ever-increasing in glory.

‘The good being the enemy of the best’ is a philosophy I hold strongly to. It has to be when I have so many choices available to me. One thing I've learned this year is that I can cope with the Goods dying if the Best is the end result.

So I suppose these changes, this ending and even the despair that 2009 contained can all be chalked up to a plentiful harvest of new life. That's a faith thing. But a true thing as well... says Kat(i)e in her latest incarnation...

Friday, November 6, 2009

Stranger Danger

Some people say that strangers are just friends you haven't met yet.

Most of my friends are strangers I only just met.

2.5 years ago my life got flipped turned upside-down and I'd like to take a minute just sitting right here and tell you how it happened... but I don't have time.

In that quarter decade I never have.

And though there have been moments where this is a symptom of over-working I don't think it is the main reason. Almost everything I do just feels so "right" and the things that aren't are difficult to spot but I'm working on it. I am living an amazing existence: my job has exciting potential to make a real difference, and open some major doors; I've started a "subversive" Christian newspaper that 2 weeks ago didn't exist but will (prayers said) be printed in 3 weeks - counter to all possibility. I'm coping quite well at the moment, having gotten past some massive internal struggles, and am seeing incredible occurrences on a daily basis. Church is flippin' fantastic and by golly I'm even starting to believe once more that good stuff can, nay will, happen.

But I haven't slept in the same bed continuously for as long as 2 weeks since I was in Russia this July.
And I don't know if I will until I go back.
Which is probably in 2 years time.
And it is foolish to plan that far ahead anyway.
Yet I've still got to at least try to learn the language, just in case...

I was hanging out with my equally busy, work-consumed missionary friend tonight for about 20 mins. We vowed (though accidentally broke it several times) to not talk about work. Here was our conversation:

Him: So, what sort of animal would you get?
Me: Well I was planning on "borrowing" one of my parents' cats but I'm too busy with...
[Pause]
Me: What's your favourite colour? Red?
Him: How did you know?
Me: Well, it's your car. But then you didn't choose that did you, you just had to get what you were given 'cause you're a poor missio...
[Pause, where we insulted Luke for talking geekily about Dr Who, before realising that he did, at least, have a hobby]
Me: Errrrr... what's your favourite reptile?
Him:

End of conversation.

I feel like I have no time for friends. I have nothing to talk about with friends apart from "business". The people I do know are all so relatively new and life keeps moving on so fast that sometimes I sit in the same room as them and feel like a stranger in my own life. Am I a friend I haven't met yet?

Sometimes I wish there was someone there to be my stability in this place of huge change. To know about the different parts of my life and be able to feel my pain and get me, even when I don't. Someone that doesn't feel strange. How is this even possible? Just supposing I had the time right now for a "significant other" to come along - which I don't - that level of closeness would still take ages to develop.

Then I remember this poem (that Nathan (link) posted on his blog a little while ago and gives a little bit of the info for it here (link)) and I think that maybe things will all be OK...

Abigail Burdess – All Kinds of Trouble


I’m in all kinds of trouble now,

The kind where you wake up on a train

And everything, everything’s strange

And where am I? And when did the season change?

I must have been asleep.

I’m sure I must be late.

I’m in all kinds of danger.

The stranger on the platform is not a proper stranger.

“You’re here with me,” he says, “isn’t it great?”

And he’s right.

The kind where there’s too much meaning on the edges of sight

Because he might be there.

The kind where you randomly weep.

I’m in deep, deep hot water.

In a boiling hot geyser

In the mists

In the midst

Of ridiculous Icelandic snow.

Y’know,

You should give up the fags and eat fruit,

Because life should last longer, this life should last longer

If someone like him exists.

Everybody. Lock away the razors and save your lovely wrists:

Someone like him exists.

I’m in every single kind of trouble now

The kind where a kind man could write himself a significant part.

I’m in very grave danger

Of a change of heart.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Patent Declaration of Hope on the Driveway

I got my car bashed into last week. Was a bit of a pain as it is technically undriveable now, though thankfully no-one was hurt and they accepted full responsibility. I opted to get the coach back to Bristol and make-do without, but when I found out it was going to take 2 weeks from now to get fixed I decided to take them up on the free courtesy car that I was entitled to. I was lead to believe it would be some kind of Clio - which would be fine but not my first choice.

Now today, back in London, I have been at an all-day staff meeting that really reminded me just how dire the situation with our nations youth is. How much needs doing, how very impossible a solution is without God and that even with Him there is a long and difficult road ahead. It wasn't a bad meeting but I was well aware of the challenge and, getting the train to my parents house where I would collect the rental car and spend the night, I felt more than a little overwhelmed. My faith is not that high right now, my hope fluctuates. Perseverance is important but it doesn't automatically change how I feel.

My (dear) father then (very kindly) picked me up from the station and as we drove home I asked about the car. What colour is it? Black he replies. What make? A Honda.

HONDA!

I love Hondas! :-D

Why? Because they make the Best Adverts Ever.

I found myself singing the theme tune "hate something, change something, hate something change something make something better" this summer because it sounded a little bit like the Sellotape of Love song I was obsessed with a coupla months back. It reminded me of my love for these cars (it's all about the effective marketing!) and I had privately wanted one as my temporary ride but didn't even voice the desire because I knew I had no choice and it would have been a very unlikely option.

So without further ado, some of the Best Adverts Ever are to follow, and you will see just how prophetic they are and how encouraged I have been in my hour of feeling overwhelmed by the shit world.

When you see something you hate, the passion can be turned to good use:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VwRCBHhyrAA&feature=related
(Check out the rainbows!)

We have to dream the impossible dream though:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_kE7x8DV4TE&NR=1&feature=fvwp

Note the way the modus operandum changes on the journey... always providing what is required for the terrain.

Remember, it's actually a lot of fun... but needs to be done as a united TEAM:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pX68etceWNE&feature=related


The coordination and precision has got to be spot on. Impossibly perfect in fact, unless they are carefully laid out by a Very Good orchestrator:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g2VCfOC69jc&feature=related


When it comes down to it. What's the point in a dream that you don't see come true?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jH8U40jKNAI&feature=related

Dream on! Even when hope is low.

A pertinent verse for me of late has been this:

"I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit." Romans 15:13

Have some of that...

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Not so cynical

I was a bit grumpy last time wasn't I?! I'm thinking about/trying not to be so cynical. There is a subtle difference between "keeping it real" and "being a miserable cow" that can't really be identified analytically but most people can sense (like trying to measure body heat with clos when you can just ask if they're comfy). I sense that I was being my "other me" then.

This "other me" thing is what I'm gonna write about tonight. I don't really have the time to craft a perfect blog post but I've really missed writing and have got about half an hour to spare this evening before I travel across London (where I work) and get a late night bus back to Bristol (where I live). So you get a bit of what I've been thinking about with no attempted at precision or clarity.

'A job?' I hear you say. I do believe I haven't mentioned it but one of the reasons I don't write much at the moment is that I started working! I know, someone gave me a job?!? It isn't as drastic as traveling 6 hours everyday but I am still based in Brizzle whilst coordinating the education programme for a charity in London. We work to try and change the circumstances of young Afro-Caribbean boys from a deprived borough in the east, who are identified at being at risk of social exclusion. They show "leadership potential" just not in very constructive ways... IT'S HARD. It's heart-wrenching too.

I'm not so crass as to say 'They got it so bad it makes me rethink'. We can all be "justifiably" (well, by some definitions) cynical about stuff in our lives. The main thing I am thinking about is how we have these two sides: the one-that-wants-to-do-well and the one-that-wants-to-fuck-the-other-one-up. Here in this place I have met perfect examples of those who know what is best and are desperate to succeed, yet still repeatedly interact with the world in destructive ways - sometimes moments after they express willingness and longing. Wow, Romans: 7 21-24 never was more real to me:

I have discovered this principle of life—that when I want to do what is right, I inevitably do what is wrong. I love God’s law with all my heart. But there is another power within me that is at war with my mind. This power makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me. Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death?

I mean, don't get me wrong I see it in my own heart all the time but to witness it in action with things that might be "obvious" or "easy" really rams that home. I was talking to them today about the "other side" of human nature and I tells you what, dese youts really get it a lot better than some of the more educated people I know. They've experienced that hold on them... they understand how they have the responsibility to choose the right path, because they've struggled so hard to stay on it.

I see the little ones, some of whom haven't learned the difference between right and wrong. If anyone comes in with any post-modern bullshit that says there is only convention I'd be tempted to punch them - when it comes down to it they need deep rooted, real morality. How long will these boys last not discipline or loved? How can society cope having taken such little responsibility for their young? All of their young. Collectively.

But I can't be so cynical even here, where the dark-side of humanity is so evident (and I don't mean in the kids... or in their skin colour!). They're just so darn cute. Today several of the primaries asked me if I was wearing a wig - I never realised straightening my hair makes that much difference! There is such a light alternative, a bright loving vibrancy that kids personify so well when they want to. It's the stereotype that, to them, the world is black and white. I think perhaps they may have a point... we just mess it up as we get older by compromising our characters and allow the grey of corruption to be the norm.

I will write at further length about this whole "two-sided heart" thing I reckon, 'cause I've been so struck by it myself in recent months. It feels like the message of the moment...

The night is almost gone; the day of salvation will soon be here. So remove your dark deeds like dirty clothes, and put on the shining armour of right living.

That's what Miss Love and I read this morning. I wonder how many clos the shining armour of right living measures...?

The question of 'How?' still hangs around though. How can we not be shit? How can I lose the cynicism and keep a hold of that uncompromised shiny suit vision? I will write more... got a bus to catch...

Friday, October 2, 2009

Refresher

I went to freshers' fair today in Bristol. I am sort of vaguely, semi-intentionally, not yet fully decidedly how, doing some kind of student ministry this year. That could look like just about anything and I also have a part time job in London (did I mention?) that I've been doing for about a month thus far, so fitting it all in is a bit fun. But it does feel right, so long as I do it how God says to. Which, by the way, is a big 'if'.

Anyway. I went to see what was going on and to look for a feminist society - which I found and joined - 'cause I am kinda keen on female identity issues and thought they would be interesting to get to know. A few other things too, including the Russian Society - 'cause I am learning to speak that, and the Afro-Caribbean society - 'cause I want to learn to dance properly. I can say that 'cause I work with black people so I'm down wid it. It's not racism, it's International Banter.

I hate freshers' fair. It's like life. Far too busy; can't work out where lots of the stuff is that you wanna do and even if you know where they are, getting to them - through the crowds and broken/switched off lifts and general distractions and blockages - is bloody tough; too much choice and fun looking things that you know you don't have time for; necessary to engage with to get connected and make the most of the opportunity you've been presented with but still a lot of effort and doesn't really feel worth it at the time.

Yes. That is today's analogy. I wish I could stay in bed and watch box-sets every day but it turns out there is a lot going on. I'm trying to slow down - I don't want to burn out before I've even completed my recovery from last time.

Perhaps as I begin the rest of my life, like with actual university, I'll get to repeat my first year. Then take a break part way... scrape through to the end with an ok but not very good result... and curl up in a ball and die, wishing I'd made wiser choices with how to get the most out of my time there.

That doesn't actually sound like much fun. But I forgot to borrow season 1 (new) Doctor Who off of Luke so it seems my only plan thus far.

Sigh. I think I need a holiday.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Because it's too cool not to share

What's the deal with prime numbers? Did you know this about them:

http://www.futilitycloset.com/2009/09/11/the-ulam-spiral/


Cool, much?

In other random passing comments:

Shout out to a reader in Greece! Please reveal yourself, I've noticed you for a while and am feeling curious and friendly :-)

I've started Twittering. I'm not sure if I will keep it up but I'm called Basic Kate if you are interested and I am currently experimenting with only doing it in the 2nd person... because 3rd and 1st are so passé.

I have experienced many declaration of randomness and joy recently so am quietly optimistic about the future, in particular because:
a) I now have orange hair and everyone knows that the future's bright, the future's orange (link).
b) There are public pianos on the streets of Bristol, which means we can dance and generally feed love (with music).

I saw a hen party gather around one of the pianos, all dressed in their silly hats and looking chavy, and one of them started playing classical music really well. Expect the unexpected. She then played 'Winnie the Pooh', which I had watched repetitively for a week this summer whilst babysitting and it makes me think of blustery days, which makes me think of the winds of change...

There is hope yet. Summer sucked but this late bit of good weather is all about things coming right eventually. Just gotta wait it out.

Anyway. Just dropping by, got a lot to do, but I will be back I think... and perhaps one day soon I'll tell you a story about the future being bright and where the orange thing first came from (it wasn't really a mobile phone ad but a funny shaped carrot). It's quite an old anecdote, from before everything went bad. Perhaps bringing it back is exactly what we need for this new start. September always feels like a new start to me.

Lataz x

Thursday, September 10, 2009

I seem to have a thing for cakes

Seriously, what do cakes mean? My analogising isn't so hot right now but there's gotta be a significance to why cake keeps coming up. Look what Lizzie sent me today:

http://whisk-kid.blogspot.com/2009/08/say-it-with-cake.html


Amazing, much? First cake wrecks, now cake promises... is there hope on the agenda??? Why cake?!

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

The Universal Cure

This one is for any Hugh Laurie fan out there. That man, wow. If I were more of a cliché I'd write something along the lines of him having been standing in the right place when God was giving out all the good stuff. This particular song is actually connected with something I have talked about before here (link) to do with Bob Dylan and his prophetic stylings (did I mention that I think pop music is prophetic?). I can't really express just how ridiculous/sublime I find this piece of comedy writing as far as it being a reminder of the irritatingly glib way that some people can go on about changing the world. But Hugh says it better:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SAg0ppEMbxA


He's right though. That is all we have got to do. Let's go!

P.S. The real answer is love. All you need is love. Do it.

P.P.S. Watch this space for a potentially-coming-soon synopsis of the mathematical reasons for why the Beatles were right.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Let them wreck cake

I'm too busy to write, what with having a great (though still too early to not be scary) new job, but in the spirit of enjoyment here is the first in an indefinite string of vaguely amusing random stuff I have seen on the internet. 1/3 of my readers may well appreciate this one:

http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/2009/09/sunday-sweets-wow.html

As for the analogising - over to you (if there is a you anymore)...

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Enjoy the Dot

I wrote this last week but I never did post and I don't really know why. The sentiment still holds, which is good 'cause it is supposed to. Sadly I never got a picture of my friend's prophetic jumper so you'll just have to take my word for it...

Life is a bit like a pointillism painting. Up close you haven’t got a clue but each moment is important to make the whole masterpiece. The problem is that the dark spots are as crucial to the beauty as the light spots, but far less fun to live in.

However, be they must and as you see the picture taking shape what looked like a shitty brown colour may well end up being chocolate!

That is my fortune-cookie-glib insight for you all. I'm trying not to do a whole lot of self-analysis at the moment ‘cause turns out it’s a really bad idea, so I decided to quit. Live in the moment and get what you can from it seems to be my message, as seen on the back of a friend’s jumper at dinner last night... it said ENJOY in rainbow coloured beads :-)

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Tatters

I've been struggling a lot with depression recently. It's part of the whole "burnout thing" but it isn't the first time this has happened... it is the worst since I have been a Christian though.

I can't really estimate how long this has been around - it's hardly a binary state - but though life got particularly hard this last term it wasn't until the middle of June, when my degree ended and the change of pressure inevitably hit, that I have been steadily failing at keeping on with God... Often, you see, it was a way to draw near to Him; a place where being dependent resulted in intimacy, no burden was too great and every struggle could also be seen as a blessing. Not a place of perfection but somehow different to how things are now... where, though nothing much has changed in my actual world, it just sucks. I have been rubbish in no uncertain terms and I ain't gonna dwell on my Roman's 7ish tendencies (link). Nor will I exhort the Romans 18:28-ing (link) of them with any stories, though I have them (God is good). Rather I have an analogy.

It is of course resistance training. When you work out it isn't the rep's you can do that are building muscle, but the ones you really can't. Before I was coping, so up goes the pressure. Simple. I am getting strengthened for the next fight I gotta be in (link). Turns out the stuff from before wasn't enough to grow me beyond my limits. I signed up for it with some reckless enthusiasm about being refined and thus made ready to defeat the nasties in the world, and it seems that prayer gets answered... so I am broken, like the ragged, sinewy fibres of a pumped and aching bicep.

I am not going to tell you that I am ok with this. I sometimes am (rarely) and I will be in the future but it is chronically painful a lot of the time and I am very very shaky in my sinful - that is unloving, lifeless, hopeless and generally dodge - attitude and actions. My faith is a wreck, nothing seems to be working out, and I'd rather I was driving along just dandy down the motorway that is my life instead of stuck on a back road with a girt fat tree across the path... or some such. But something put into words by the father of Sam (link), whose tragic death can teach us all a thing or two about putting up with crap, has spoken to me with a far better analogy:

I had a thought today.


It may seem a little random to you but whatever.


As I was thinking about my faith it seemed that it was in tatters around my feet. shreds of it lay all around.


And then I thought perhaps a good way to picture what faith is like would be to imagine a warehouse full of expensive material, sillk or something like that.


Then imagine that someone had placed a bomb right in the centre of the warehouse and blown it up. bits of cloth would fly all over the place and the once beautiful rolls of silk would be chard, ripped and ruined.


and now imagine me (or you?) standing amongst all the bits, the rags that were once silk sheets but are now no more than tatters.


Surely that cant be can it?

Surely our faith is so precious that it must remain in tact. Surely there are things we cannot question!


As I am thinking these thoughts I run around and try to find matching shreds and try to piece them together but I reject the idea of trying to put them back together since they can never again be the beautiful thing they once were, they will never, ever be beautiful, silky smooth, unblemished rolls of perfect silk.


But thats all I have left.

So, I gather the bits together, I carefully and lovingly sew each piece to its partner, and slowly, very, very slowly I rebuild. eventually, after the most amazing ammount of effort I get to the point where I have connected all of the pieces together and now I have a roll of silk again.


But my roll is scarred, stitched together with unskilled hands, threads sticking out here and there, a piece connected back to front and not exactly pefectly straight edged. no longer perfect, not by a long chalk but its there. All my work has seemd to have been for nothing.

How can I present my broken and ripped faith to Jesus? how will this inadequate, distorted thing ever be good enough to get me into heaven? Can I ever use it again? How dare I? what would Jesus, the "author and perfector of our faith" think.


I have not the first idea but in fear, I approach Him and present what I have.


I hold out my faith, falling apart at the seams, ragged and torn to my Lord.


He reaches out a hand to take it.


His hands are the strong hands of a carpenter, hard skinned and knocked by years of practice, but most of all I notice his wrist, torn through, a ragged hole where a nail once ruined his perfect body, I look up and see his eyes, lovingly examiniging my broken faith, his head is marked by thorns, his back is ripped to shreds by a whip that broke his body and his side is ripped open by a spear "just to see if he was dead".

and then I realise, the author and perfector of my faith understands better than I can ever do what it means to be stood among the pile of shreds that was once your beautiful faith. He knows what it means to be crushed, broken and seperated even from God in a way that I will never know.


So now I can try.


At least I can try to pick up the piecses of my faith, find a needle and thread and start to work out how it all goes together.


Thats where I am at right now...


"For it is by grace that you are saved through faith and this is not the result of your own good deeds so that no one can boast."

any one got a needle?

Thinking like this doesn't come easy to me, mind; I don't always have the 'give-a-damn'-ness to want to do that, even having realised the grace both in this parent's attitude and Jesus's actions. But the very nature of that grace necessarily says that I don't have to bring anything myself to the table to be changed. Two days after starting this post I already feel a bit more alive... and if my experience and (meagre) trust is anything to go by then this fight is not over yet...

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Stuck... in... traffic... and some songs from some Jacks

This analogy has been far too long in the making. It will be published tonight.

The lack of completion is itself symptomatic of where I have been "at": stuck in a traffic jam.

My past year (if not 23) has been pretty intense. The running theme, which were you a regular reader you would not have been able to avoid, is refinement: fire & purification; my weakness => His strength... and all that jazz. Seeing hope despite hate has been pretty key too, in fact most of Analogise That! seems to be about belligerent optimism in the face of despair.

Then lately, which I haven't really shared - a combination of being away and also being too tired and miserable to write - I have felt like I dropped below the hope threshold. Jack Johnson said I didn't always have to hold my head higher than my heart (link) and I glad I got his permission because I really haven't been. I've no longer had capacity to "dance on" (link) and worryingly far from feeling like God is making up for it. (That said, my trip to Russia was a crazy example of God being bigger than me, emphasized in particular by me being so tiny I could not even see it... but more another time). My last post was indicative of this (or tried t0 be) as I shared my lack of certainty in what I was seeing or believing. What was perhaps even more telling was the way I wrote in a sort of confusing and messy way! The fact is, my resources are low. I have nothing left to give and it has left me a *little* out of sorts.

The lesson, which I can so easily hear but no so easily apply, is one that says physical well-being is a really key part of emotional and spiritual health. After burning the candle at both ends for so long it is time to stop. STOP. There is a bible story about this dude called Elijah who had an amazing time seeing God at work (see here in 1 Kings 18 (link)) then, next thing you know, he is running afraid for his life and wants to die (check out 1 Kings 19 (link) if you fancy it)...

A moment for an aside about wanting to die: There's this new song by Just Jack (link) that I am still processing - lovely or not? I think it rather depends on if you watch the video but I know that like Elijah, and Paul (link), death doesn't at all feel like the worst thing that could happen to me these days. Suppose it depends on what death means to oneself. Anyway, back to the story...

So he falls asleep under a tree before an angel comes and feeds him, whereupon he sleeps and eats again. Following this he gets just enough energy to go hide in a cave, at which point he sleeps again. Now I know I've had angels looking after me, particularly when I was away (I'll write about that another time perhaps but I read a cool blog about angels (link) once, by a friend of a friend, if you're interested) and I sure as hell know I need to do a lot of eating and sleeping at the moment (where possible I've been getting up to have breakfast then going straight back to bed again - oh happy day!) and that, having barely gotten through some intense journeys, it is now time to hide in my cave and wait for it to be over.

God really spoke to me about this "low point" when I was stuck on the M25 for over 2 hours the week before last, in a traffic jam on my way back to Bristol. It was all about waiting for the wreckage to clear. Not just being patient but to be really making the most of the break... and to recognise that I was So Tired I was nearly asleep and it was probably better that I wasn't going faster than an intermittent 20mph. Enough risks have been taken so stop already. After 2 weeks of processing I can see that I am supposed to be in the queue and that the best way to live a life that feels like it's affected by metaphorical crashing is to not stress but rather accept the situation and get what I can from it. Turn up the radio, shut my eyes, then maybe read a book if I feel more awake and make eye contact with the cute passing motorist(s)! As with the traffic, I have a propensity to start off frustrated and willing it to stop but in time accepting and, following a change of perspective, beginning to appreciate the change of pace and lack of purposeful direction. Take advantage of the blockages, they may well be from an angel.

A good friend wrote a blog recently that was ironically opposite to this. I ain't gonna be passive aggressive, upfront I tells ya that it was annoyingly soppy about a road trip he was taking with his fab new gf! But I know really that it's cool to appreciate the good things in other people's lives and now I have had some sleep all cynicism has passed so I am once again happy for them and just loving the appropriateness of the metaphor that part of his "journey" was going on a journey :-) My "journey" is not the same but it's not supposed to be actually. Last time I tried to "accelerate home" I ended up overshooting by 7 junctions (link) and having to do a direct and humbling retrace. Whoops. Next time I'm not speeding anywhere till I have paid a lot more attention to the destination.

So I've been in recuperation mode, to the point that on Monday my dear mother came all the way to Bristol on the bus to drive me home in my own car. Bless her. Back in my cave with just enough energy to make it and be thoroughly attended by angelic(ish) hosts!
.
.
.

All this said, I accepted a job yesterday that starts in a month! The 1st of August is suddenly upon us and I realise I need to get my life sorted out now so that things don't go horribly wrong when I enter the real world! It seems that the traffic is slightly starting to clear and the next stage of my journey, whatever that involves, looms. I feel able to blog again as I get into a slightly more even flow... and having only just gotten used to the stop/start motion. Better make the most of still being quite slow I suddenly see, knowing just how quickly a road can clear...

I leave you on some FUNNY (link): the horrors of traffic, the lust for other people's failures. It's a shame in a way that he's so close to real life but hey, at least we know the truth about jams :o)

Monday, July 20, 2009

A Russian Doll Analogy

I'm back! And with me comes an anecdote from my time away that is also the perfect analogy for how I feel about Russia and my relationship with her. However, today I'm not going to tell it 'cause I want to talk about a ridiculous/horrible thing that I have been reading about on the internet, and Russia must wait 'til I am slightly more recovered and able to process choesively.

It all began when a (very bold) fox came into my folks' garden this evening and there was a bit of a hullabaloo about chasing it off. I must say I was suspicious of it from the start, but I figured that was due to this post here (link) (where foxes become a metaphor for mild destruction) and that perhaps I was allowing myself to over-analogise again. WRONG. I need to stop listening to the lies that analogies lose meaning when they are extrapolated - they just need more creative imagination!

Anyway. Why was this wrong? Well, it surprised me that other people didn't say "awwwww" like I would've, had I not got my former analogy, but then Tom (brother from another mother) said that it would eat the cats (of which we have 3). Ridiculous we laughed. Then we googled it and look at this:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/4195162/Hungry-foxes-start-eating-the-nations-cats.html


See, it's in the newspaper, it must be real! :-O There are tons of other horror stories on newsgroups that I would not recommend you reading.

OK, perhaps this isn't the normal fox/cat relationship and some of the accounts may be dubious. However, it is still a very powerful image for me. Some of you may be aware of my Dog of Death (link), the bad symbol that preceded (and was also a part of) a whole lot of death, sadness, destruction, difficulty and general crapness that hit not long after I began writing enthusiastically about hope and joy. I then discovered my Cat of Redemption (link), who represents the good that can come out of bad, the life after death.

So put the two together and we see the good things we know being threated.

It's an even greater danger when we don't believe it is possible, doubting as I did that there was really a risk. But then that is not to say that one concerned cat breeder's reaction is right either:

"I have now given up breeding because it has become too dangerous for the cats. My surviving cats live in a state of siege and I have been left devastated and traumatised."
(link)

It's interesting for me to be aware of the ways in which recently my "cats" have been threated by "foxes" that I have not been wary enough of. We know there are threats out there, and also the risk of being too afraid and so missing out on the good stuff, but there is a third and for me even more relevant issue: the analogy within the analogy of my initial false mistrust of the metaphor, as opposed to mistrust of the fox. A danger to not heed the warning because of a lack of faith (which I have definitely been aware of lately).

Ironically, the challenge of my not trusting what I may or may not be "hearing" from God [insert your prefered source of truth here] though analogies comes in the form of an analogy, and an extrapolated one at that! I'm not entirely sure what to do at this seeming impasse but I am aware I have my doubts and confusion over what is true and what is not and in time I hope that God will resolve them. I suppose that somewhere the moral (should I choose to heed it) is not to believe in what He may or may not be saying/doing but rather in Him. After all, with or without acceptance of the analogy the fox was well and truly chased away...

Sunday, June 21, 2009

"The best way to strip the allure and dreaminess from a lifelong dream is, very often, simply to have it come true"

I read this on 22 words (link) and I thought it was apt. Partly because it has a vague Russian link and I'm going there this Friday. Mostly because with all my talk about dreaming and all my dreams falling through I like the comfort!

This is a pretty personal blog post. I don't want to dwell on me too much but I haven't much else to write about and I wanted to say fare-thee-well properly before I sign off for a month. Perhaps do a brief review of the academic year and spend a moment on self-analysis, if you'll allow.

Been a pretty intense week. Lots of hopes not being fulfilled, actually that isn't just this week. Having tolerated this for a time the thing I have started saying recently is "I want it to be the time when blessings aren't a consolation prize, I've had enough of this refinement" and it seems that what I am being reminded is "in the upside-down kingdom good things don't always look like good things as you might expect". So I stand once again corrected and, actually, it is an OK place to be. My situation may not change but my perspective must.

I got my hair cut this week and it looks quite different but it also isn't hardly any shorter - just more styled and no longer getting in my eyes. The analogy on my old blog (link) was that my hair is akin to my spiritual journey and back in September I had to cut it all off and wait for the bob length (and also "bob length") to arrive; I now have almost the same style I did when I left Geneva but this time it isn't bleached and dry with a dodgy dye-job. Being significantly reshaped can hurt but it is not getting rid of the good stuff, just crafting it, and it's so shiny now that the hairdresser even commented. Good quality, genuine colour: I may not look significantly different but it shows on the outside some and on the inside the difference is immense.

Learning to dream has been amazing and disappointing. I come out burned from doing it wrong by holding on too tightly when I know I shouldn't but I think I come out ready to one day dream again... though perhaps in a vaguer way! Hope does not disappointed but only when it is done in perfection. Until I hope perfectly I must be prepared for sometimes reaching in the wrong direction and clutching onto thin air. But I will still dream. If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it (link). Pure imagination is good but if it's all just a fabrication then that is a sad state-of-affairs.

I'm going to Russia with love. Then when I get back I'm doing what I feel like for as long as I am free to, before God shows me something else to do. We'll dream again on the other side of the trip but first I must pack, sleep, escape, recoup and... tell you what have a poem. I wrote it on the theme of 'Unweave, unwind, unravel' and it was, I admit, a bit rushed and apparently is not up to scratch for the magazine, but the great thing about having my own blog is that I get to choose what is published and if no-one else likes it I know God does, which I've decided is enough for me.


Undone. Redone

Undone by grief I can but wait
How to make it ok?


Like a mess of wire, tangled but live

When something gets cut we lose the light
and have to trace back the thread to find where the circuit was broken

Where we need to repair

Heart laid bare


Unpick the knot inside

Rewind

Let it unwind
Unravel your mind, risky

Sublime


Exposed copper thread like a glimmer divine

in this tapestry we call life

Truth in the deepest and bitterest strife

The journey before is a wending path

Horizon now dim casts shadows at dusk

but the dawn is coming. It must

As we walk-on the way is unwound and so we are able, despite it being rough
Sometimes we even laugh.


But the cable is severed and current can’t flow

Blinded, fumbling. No love. No glow.

Even replacing a fuse needs a torch,

how can I see to restore what is lost?

Stripped naked. Taken apart. In the dark. Where to start?

Theory sounds good but alone I remark in a bitter tone

No chance


With no external power source any hope we have is false

So, let there be light!

Desperate cry.

Love replies.

Sometimes it takes shock to unblock

A cut in the line to loosen the knot

Now fearless, released, redone, wound tight

Until the sun rises, ready to fight
We’ll yet make it through the night.



Apparently in St P's it is the time of year when the evenings are so long and the morning so early that it doesn't ever get properly dark. It's called a "white night". I'm up for some of that.

The love is key though. There's a pretty great passage in the ole Bible about it: 1 John 4:7-19 (link). I'll write more about love when I get back though I probably needn't bother since that sort of says it all. It's the reason shattered dreams don't matter, the reason broken hearts can be restored, the end and the means and the driving force to get there.

I part on a BRILLIANT analogy for love. The Tape of Love (link). If you're only going to follow one link today then let this be it.

With love,

Kat(i)e x

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Don't think I'll be blogging much for a while. That's not a promise, I just don't feel like it right now and I'm going away soon too. For those that are interested I did finish my degree, I don't know what I got (though I find out in 2 days - the beauty of having a late extension is you don't have to wait long) and I haven't a clue what I am going to do next or for the rest of my life.

But I don't really care. At the moment I'm focusing on catching up sleep and getting away from it all... not quite ready yet to rejoin the world I'm meant to be a part of so a month overseas with strangers sounds perfect.

I'm excited about being creative in other ways for a while actually. Blogging's been my thing for over a year, perhaps it's time for a change.

See you around... or not.

Friday, June 12, 2009

I will run and not grow weary

My Achilles tendonitis did not stop me from finishing the 10k. It didn't even stop me running the whole way. It just made me a lot slower. Analogise That!

Tomorrow is the finish line and it will be moved no more. I will cross it. Up to but not over the edge.

but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.
Isaiah 40:31 (link)

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

I wish I'd thought of that


http://nedroidcomics.livejournal.com/230523.html

I love that this is a comic about strategies for spreading love.

Also that I found this website through intraweb sharing - it's all about SYNERGY.

Also that this morning my mum told me to listen to a program on radio 4 which just now became so relevant to my project having not seemed to be at the time. Synergy at work in a project about... synergy. The added value of togetherness. Love it!

Continuous themes in all aspects of life is my favourite.

Also, through "arbitrary" web-clickage and a train of thought seeded by some facebook comment then faciliated by "random" shuffle on i-tunes meant I:
a) Found out that Charles Spurgeon (link) got a lot done in his life and so it is possible.
b) Was motivated by a funny Norweigan preacher to go for Big and Impossible Dreams in the full knowledge I will face Disappointment, Discouragement and Distraction but to keep going anyway. Which was, inronically, a rejuvenating, encouraging and focusing message.

So, yeah, I'm feeling excited by dreaming again and, to top it all off, I've remembered another pair of knickers that were purchased at the same time as my 'Pants of Power' and I rather think they may be prophetic too:


"In your wildest dreams"

Excellent.

More an apology than an analogy

I'm just touching base to say that I was tired, hungry, hormonal and a little bit grumpy last night. My project is going much better and, though I stand by the premise that things are not to be held onto tightly and sometimes we should only look one foot ahead of us on the path (or one junction on the M25), I should not let this be mixed up with being in a Bad Mood. So sorry. Adding that sort of emotion in makes my worthwhile point see a lot less worthwhile. Basically, make sure you read the last post with a filter...

Back to the Dissertation of Trust, as I am currently calling it. I don't quite know where I am going with it so one step at a time is the strategy and I can only hope that'll get me there. The Good Thing is that the general message of the paper (hope in love) is the very thing that gets me through; so if I am right it'll be fantastic and if I'm wrong it'll be disastrous, which is basically how I feel about life anyway.

Oh and, just in case you don't follow the same blogs as me but wanna read stuff that I write (mum and dad), the Verbatim blog I evangelised about (link) a while ago just put up one of my poems! Check it out (link). The hope that everyone else on my course needed this advice is one of the things that is getting me through...!

Monday, June 8, 2009

Earth with a bump

I'm feeling a little disheartened.

I tend to think there are two types of people. Neither is better or worse you understand, we're just different.

The first is the sort that live a continuous journey of discovery, going where the river takes them as it were and being content, on the whole, with whatever happens... or if not then letting the solution be part of the "flow". They tend to be less driven for specific Big Things (by which I don't mean better) and sometimes (she speculates rashly) more wary of them. None of this is a bad way of doing life, it can often be very healthy, safe (in a good way) and productive.

The second live as though they have a list of errands to run. This doesn't mean they necessarily go fast, or they can't be flexible, but they have specific objectives in mind and they go for them. I am one of these sort. We tend to make sweeping generalisations as a part of this mindset :-P. It's not that I'm against going with the flow, far from it, but the surprises are always part of the details that I have in mind, even if I didn't know it before it happened. Perhaps this is the same as being "visionary" or some such word... Everything has to have a point and the little points make up the big point.

I have two very Big Plans at the moment. Music and Policy Making. They are both impossible to achieve without a good dose of the miraculous/very good fortune. They are both strong passions of mine and I can't think of anything else I'd rather head towards (especially with the lack of employment right now). I shall call myself a Mutician and it will be beautiful.

There have been a fair few number of "signs" too, analogies as it were, that have encouraged me with my plans. But the thing is, I don't know how much I believe in analogies anymore. I think perhaps I have been a bit rash in the past in practising what a game theorist might call 'cognitive dissonance' or what any one else would say is 'wishful thinking in the face of obvious evidence to the contrary'. I don't know but I reckon I may be doing the same now. Just because all things are possible doesn't mean all things will happen.

Yesterday I excitedly told a friend about The Plan and he said it was great to have all my energy, so long as I didn't hold onto it too tightly. I said I knew it was only possible with God so time would tell and I came away feeling confidant of my enthusiasm. As a type II person I tend to be a bit harsh with the way I view type I people's rationale and often end up having to eat my words. Like now. That phrase about 'holding on tightly or lightly' reminded me of another good friend, who is also quite type I (I think and hope that is an acceptable assessment to make), that talked recently about holding on lightly to a lack of Big Plans and enjoying life for where it was at. It seems that the theory works well for both types, perhaps even more so for the likes of me... I can get caught up on desires all too easily and, while it's good to dream, it's not good to invest everything in one place or (as I see it) make plans regardless of what God wants to do.

'Cause the thing is, and I do have an analogy even if I don't believe in it (!), yesterday I was driving around the M25 (a motorway) going from junction 26 to junction 15, to then change for the M4 (another motorway). I was praying on my way (this is not a holy statement. I can't program the radio very well and get bored easily, plus - wait for the rest of the story...) and I got so into it that the 45ish minute journey became an hour and 25 before I realised I was at junction 7! I had to come off and drive down the M32 all the way to Gatwick airport before I could turn around and retrace my steps. SO frustrating.

Thing is, I'm not at all sure I was praying the "right" prayers if I'm honest. I think I was so fixated on fervently asking for what I wanted that I missed where I was supposed to be going. What a waste.

My project. It's not really ground-breaking. At best it will be a well-written, finished rehash of ideas. Other people have said the same things better, which is fine, but the brilliant metaphor for hope of redemption in society isn't working out as I planned and that is a bit disappointing. Like a resolved journey that did at least get me home but didn't at all take the optimal route. 'Mathematical Models For Hope' is becoming 'Mathematical Models For Stating The Bleeding Obvious'. Today it doesn't feel like making the world a better place, it feels like all I can aim for is to get to my destination without any more blunders. It's cool that I refueled before I made my journey, and that I got the chance to undo the mistake, but getting waylaid can be a pretty disheartening experience... especially when it's by my own headstrong making and wouldn't have happened if I'd been more open-hearted.

As for music. Seriously? I get nervous when I meet minor, pathetic, day-time television celebrities. I couldn't get on stage.

I wonder how many more things these fingertips will have to let go of before I realise that I missed my turning, find a roundabout and start heading towards my true destination. The type I's have a point when they don't get caught up on goals. It is true that I think God has a plan for me but who am I to think I know what it is:

"For just as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so my ways are higher than your ways
and my thoughts higher than your thoughts."
Isaiah 55:9 (link)

That's what God says. My version of aiming High is still very much based upon what people think is high, He has an entirely different view point. Jesus was the King that washed his disciples feet (link) for goodness sake.

So maybe I'll go be a maths teacher, as everyone keeps asking, and sing in a bar at the weekend to practise being bold. Nowt wrong with that. No-one is crying out for more Muticians but there's a definite shortage of people taking the time to show kids how to count.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

The Cat of Redemption

I'm in London for one night only (well, probably two now actually, extended by popular demand) to visit some friends who were passing through, raid the folk's fridge and do my laundry. It's thus far proven successful on the first two accounts already and I only arrived last night.

When I got in about 11pm I saw my cat Tilly standing in the hallway. She is a shy thing, all black and half feral, who had only slightly begun to be sociable just before we got our psychotic dog four years ago. Since then her feral side had come out in full force as she spent all her time in the neighbour's shed, only coming in to eat and skulking round the house on person alert if it was cold outside. Yesterday she stood there for ages and looked at me.

The first thing I though was how lovely it was to see her there, sort of greeting me.

The second thing I thought was how very sad that the reason she was is that my psychotic dog got put down since I was last here (see this link), for (not surprisingly) being psychotic. At the time it was an analogy for things going horribly wrong in the world from the bad choices people make (though I didn't mean Wendy necessarily had a choice... but people do, however small it seems). Since that post I have experienced close at hand a shocking real example of this (see this link if you don't know what I mean but be prepared for sadness). I said no analogy befitted it but, since I really do believe in the premise of my blog that everything points towards something bigger, this tragedy too has proved to be an analogy for many things. One of which is, it turns out, unexpected life.

Sam's death brought new life. We have seen so much of it in the way communities have rallied round, friendships have deepened and God's comforting presence has been known. One woman I've heard of who turned her back on the idea of God many years ago, after the untimely death of her husband, was so impressed by the way that his parents have reacted that she became a Christian and got baptised last weekend. I acknowledge that this story only means something for Christians but it means a heck of a lot for us. No-one can deny the love that has been grown out of this darkness and, from our perspective, eternal life too. Wow.

Now, it sounds really clinical to say it's worth it. That's because it isn't. The effects of death can't be undone just like that, his family are heartbroken and will grieve for the rest of their lives. Their earthly lives. Yet being a both/and world it also is, even if we can't truly mean that in our hearts now, 'cause Sam isn't really dead. Once we get free from the now there will be no more grieving, and when that woman gets to heaven and meets him oh my will it be beautiful.

Anyway. This is a tricky conversation and I defy anyone to really know how to say that, particularly given half (made up statistic) my readers aren't Christians so won't agree at all. Back to the animals...

I am more of a dog person really and had just spent the evening with three delightful ones at Chris and Katherine's. [Actually, a another redemptive story about a dead dog is that his parent's puppy got tragically killed by a car about 6 months ago and when they did get a new one recently she was already named Grace. Isn't that lovely?] Wendy was magic (when she wasn't psychotic) and nothing can or ever will replace her but I love my cats too and we have three in the house, all of whom are experiencing a new lease of life with the death of a canine. Tilly came up to me in the kitchen this morning and was both scared of and desperate for attention... she let me "smooth" (as the Bristolians would say) her a while before she ran away. I can't wait to see how things will yet change.

[EDIT: She is SO different, even to how she was before the dog. I had a proper cuddle with her this morning for a good few minutes :-D]

The cat of redemption has reminded me that out of all things there can be brought forth good - light after the dark, sunshine after the rain, love after heartbreak, "life" after "death"... Life after Death...

I couldn't find a pic of Tilly quick to hand but this is Kitty and the shot is very cool... Analogise That!

Saturday, May 30, 2009

I Don't Matter

I've been in the library for a lot of hours today. The progress made was, for me, entirely fabulous as I got back into my very exciting project (it will be like the longest blog post ever - which sounds like something that would come naturally to me!) and started to form all sorts of ideas in an almost organised way (my new strategy is to have a different word document for each one and then try and structure it from there). I have a sensible schedule these next two weeks of only doing the extra-curricular activities that I feel "lead" to. My attitude is that if I do what I am supposed and able to then that is all I need or should aim for. The rest (if that by itself isn't enough) is up to God in His infinite wisdom to orchestrate as, when and how He chooses. Chaos isn't chaos it is just that our perspective is so limited we can't see the pattern. That is how my head feels most of the time and so I am learning to relinquish control and trust that He knows the bigger picture.

This might sound impressively peaceful but I tell you I spent most of the year learning this lesson 'the hard way'. Walking down my road on the way home I remarked to myself just how freeing trust feels. This must be what the bible means when it says do not worry (link), having an external controller is the best thing ever! I then very quickly became aware of just how vulnerable this trust of mine is, how easily it could go and the dire side-effects that would result if it did. I wouldn't be a little bit stressed; the reason peace is so important to me is that I need it to function!

So I sort of made this concern into a prayer that begged it wouldn't go. Then, moments later, I walked past my car. It is parked just outside my front door on the other side of the road under a tree... and the window was wound a good way down...

Eeeeek! I went over, it was full of leaves (and covered in sap) but was still locked. So I dashed inside, grabbed the keys, spotted a note from my neighbour asking if the car with the open window was mine, went back and checked if Valerie had anything missing. Nothing. All my CDs in the glove pocket (and yes, I do have excellent taste), all my loose change and 'car snacks' (thanks Becca) still hanging about. Mouldy orange peel, check. She was untouched.

Now we have had several break-ins on our street over time. There is a school just up the road (though I know I'm stereotying the bored scally-wags of youth), the residential area is quite reputed for theft and, on top of this, it has been like that since I last drove on Tuesday night! I am so incapable...!

Yet how "fortunate" too. I feel protected and compensated for. Like who I was in my inadequacy didn't matter, because my mistake didn't render me missing out.

They say you should trust God but lock your car. That is a theological debate I ain't getting into but as an analogy it sort of makes sense that we should do what we can and then not fret about what we can't... even if what we can't is seemingly not enough. My open window was not doing what most people would say is "enough" but in that moment of utter insufficiency God was gracious. Story of my life really. What I do don't matter, and that is a good thing.

The other day my friend Mike asked me what I was going to get on my degree. [Aside: in decreasing order the possible grades in England are 1st, 2:1, 2:2, 3rd, pass, fail. If you get a 3rd or below people tend to think it is poor and a 2:2 is looked down on by academic snobs] I said I was most probably in the running for a 2:2 with a small chance of a 2:1 if God wanted me to get it for some reason (and I suppose technically a chance of a 1st if God wanted to do an actual miracle!). He said I was looking at it all wrong, that if my "plan" depended on a 2:1 I had to go get it, not that I would get it if my "plan" depended on a 2:1.

Now, obviously I have to try because the whole point of this relationship with God is that I should honour Him in all I do, which includes maths homework. But when it comes down to it, I will do my bit and my bit may well be rubbish. In fact, sometimes I will not even do my own small bit - that's how crap I can be - but even then He is merciful. It's not an excuse to do nothing (or worse) as Mike thought but it is a pretty wonderful place to be in: that even when faced with my failings He can and does override the inevitable and make things a safe, thief-free, place to thrive :-)

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Lifeline

Today I did my last exam. Phewww.

I still have a dissertation to do and a history of not making deadlines. Some may say don't hold your breath... 26 days late is my longest record!

I call it a lifeline this time. I've been offered a lifeline to make up for my inadequacy. People say "deadline" is a phrase that stems from slavery, when to get a task completed by or else... I don't know if this is true. I do sort of feel like that is the (albeit pessimistic) case for this mortal coil though, in't it? We have to fit everything in before our deadline...

This is a meandering post that is sort of going wherever my 1am "I wish I was sleepy but I'm a bit out of sync and over-medicated and can't settle even though I only had 4 hours last night" mind will take it. Slavery - the bible talks about being a slave to sin. Hear me out, if we take out the word "sin" and replace it with "being a bit of a sh*t" then I reckon that is rather legit. It was my one year anniversary with Jesus yesterday (OMG His present to me was amazing but that is for another day) and my sis bought me this book that I haven't yet read but I flicked and it has a quote from C.S. Lewis (leg-end) that I thought was interesting and seems to fit:

"Hell begins with a grumbling mood, always complaining, always blaming others... but you are still distinct from it. You may even criticise it in yourself and wish you could stop it. But there may come a day when you can no longer. Then there will be no you to criticise the mood or even to enjoy it, but just the grumble itself, going on forever like a machine. It is not a question of God 'sending us' to hell. In each of us there is something growing, which will BE Hell unless it is nipped in the bud." From The Great Divorce

I do love good old Clive, wow. He just puts into words, so eloquently and relatably, many notions that people often can't otherwise appreciate from the Bible. It matches (in my mind) how I have been trying to talk about the way darkness exists in the world through peoples' attitudes - not being excited by life or caring enough or joyful or loving or hopeful or enthusiastic and active to seek these things... Apathy being a good example. Or selfishness. Or compromise. Or fear.

On Sunday night I heard a really good sermon about being courageous. Afterwards the pastor was chatting with us students some more and he said something that really stuck in me. "If you are already fearless then you can't be courageous". Now. I have been rather getting carried away with my vehemency for change in this world and not stopping short of anything less than what probably seems intensely "radical". I've been called brave recently, that was actually for something quite specific but in general people are encouraging of my enthusiasm. Yet, well, in all my passion and heart and real intention to act I realise that I am not actually pushing myself. I am just a verbose (some may say gobby) drama queen who had such a rubbish life for so long that she is now logically embracing the truth she has found and pushing it to the max because, as a mathematician, it comes naturally to her to optimise return. In this oblivious place I can easily seem pushy, guilt-trippy and lately, I realised to my horror, passive aggressive (mostly sub-conscious but still loaded, sorry guys). But the thing is, I am not actually being nearly as bold as I may be implying because all this is what I like best anyway. I don't want to suggest (or believe) that unless people are like me they are not "going for broke" because while I have A Lot of energy and vision none of it is mustered, it just sort of is. The real proof of character is to step out for the things that take some effort, some extra (perhaps granted) power, some faith. Jade Goody was ott - it didn't made her brave it just made her loud.

I don't know quite what it is I must do in order to step out of my comfort zone but I do know that accepting the title of bravery is not really something that I can do yet. Bravery is a choice, not a character trait, but it is measured in relation to personality and if I am a fan of "extreme living" (so long as it isn't in sports) then I have to find something else to improve at. There are plenty of weak areas it's just most of them don't involve speaking or acting out! Perhaps the opposite...

In fact I think I may have been letting darkness in and disguising it as light; hiding a grumble in legitimate disappointment and righteous anger. That has got to be more dangerous than being a regular moaner. Oh I so appreciate being forgiven (by people and God alike) when I mess up in this way - it's the lifeline again, yet another chance.

Did that segue nicely back to the start of the post? Do I have a point? I don't know. Not feeling that clear in my head but somehow, in my heart, I do. I have freedom and it doesn't stem from emotional independence, academic closure, listening to Nina Simone (link) (though that does help) or even living in my privileged, literally unchained existence with all the love and beauty I have around me in the world. It is the love in my heart that means I am free despite the fact that I have had a pretty "hellish" few weeks with just about every tragic/emotional/work pressured/relational/physical/health-related/mentally unstable/personal failing issue arising a girl could wish for. This thrice now extended (record is 6) project pends too and I have a lot of tasks to squeeze in that need sorting before summer... but I just wish I could share all the love that's in my heart 'cause it is the reason I don't feel enslaved by the stuff above (granted I do sometimes - again with the 'both/and/now/not yet' thang). Living with a lifeline is so much better than a deadline, it's yet another analogy for the fullness and "Kingdom" that I bang on about. Who doesn't want that? (Apart from Lord Humperdink of course but I reckon even he would if he could.)

I'm pretty busy these next couple of weeks, boldly going where no Kat(i)e has ever gone before - the library. Pray for me if you don't mind (you don't have to believe it) and I'll see you around...

Lataz :-)

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Stupid?

I've got a lot of 'Righteous Anger' right now at (to quote my facebook status):

injustice, selfishness, apathy, compromise, intentional ignorance and spineless (in)decision... but it is too late to say or do anything about it. Too late in the day that is, NOT too late in the "day"

That was what I put up last night after watching the film "Age of Stupid" (link) and then talking into the night with Becca about things that are wrong with this world and what we can do about it. Apparently I'm an idealist. I was called a visionary once by a good friend who then told me that visionaries were always disappointed by the way things don't work out as fabulously as they'd hoped for. I told them they were wrong, visionaries aren't ever disappointed, they just have to wait longer to see the fruits of their hope. Last night I was totally brimming with huge "grrrrrrrrrr" about the state of our world and didn't know how to deal with that on my own. Global warming is just an analogy for the way we are breaking - it isn't just the planet, the people are on a slippery slope to destruction too... it's because we are selfish and there isn't enough love. I'll talk more about my anger another day though 'cause the thing is, in the midst of all this, hope has once again won out. The dawn after the dark. If we can only hold on long enough it will be OK. More than OK, I think (though I don't always believe it this strongly :-)) that it will one day be perfect. I just can't help my "stupid" hope.

A friend of mine had an absolutely terrible train journey the other day and ended up, after tons of other things going wrong, having to pay an extra £50 on top of her ticket :-( It made her very sad in quite a public way. The stop before Bristol a man handed her an envelope as he got off and insisted she took it. On the outside it said:

"This is all I have. Please put it towards your fare :-) I would do the same for my daughter."

And on the inside was £8. People are also good. Sometimes.

Today I found out that a friend I prayed for two weeks ago had his broken ankle healed. (Interestingly it was the same foot that I've since damaged and I had also asked God to give me more sympathy for him!) We met in the street moments after I had remarked to Beks that my foot was almost completely recovered and, considering I was told it would take months, it felt quite like a miracle. Then Matt walks past on the other side without a cast or even support bandage. I ran (!) over and found out that he is almost totally mobile and there is no break or fracture!

Was there one in the first place? Well, apparently the fracture was only assumed when they treated and the X-ray that showed there wasn't one came later. For this reason his friend, who was there when we prayed and then again on the road today, understandably didn't recognise the supernatural element. HOWEVER, the X-ray did show a fully recovered fracture that the doctor said must've happened sometime in the past since it was far too fixed to be this recent occasion. Matt plays football for the uni 1st team and has trained 3 times a week since practically forever. He doesn't remember a problem with his ankle, ever. So a very very bad injury that people initially assumed was a break, which has now recovered unnaturally fast, is replaced with a mark that says there used to be a break here but it has completely healed. There is absolutely no history of any other damage. Is it more "logical" (incidentally, Logic is the class we were in when we prayed!) that he repeatedly played football on an unnoticed broken leg or that the prayer may just have work...? His friend didn't have an answer for that one.

Hope. I don't hope in the little bits of kindness from people - £8 doesn't cover a £50 bill. OK, so if a few of us could all give £8... but actually, out of that whole carriage only one person did. To believe in humanity would be false hope. I hope in miracles. Watch the film. I reckon it would take one just to change people's attitudes.

That said, this is NOT a disclaimer for people who aren't giving their "£8" (or however much we have in our wallet) so they can justify staying in their seats, reading their books and pretending they don't see what is going on with the ticket inspector. In the words of Peter Parker's uncle:

"With great power comes great responsibility"

That is, in part, where my anger is rooted (and I'm trying to not let it be at people but rather the things that make us how we are), because hope is active and very few of us (myself included) are in motion. When I do pray for something more often than not I end up being part of the answer. As a Christian I am a member of the "body of Christ" and if we want Jesus to walk this earth again - a synonym could be we want love to go viral - then we have to be his hands and feet (or infectious carriers of the love-bug). Having a broken ankle isn't an excuse; not when He can mend them!

It's big, it's scary, it's hard to know where to start, but we are not in a place where "doing our bit for the environment" is enough. I have plans. I have people that are up for it. I have a manifesto for change and it is organic, holistic, optimistic and ridiculous. Imagine A Brighter Future. Post Tenebras Lux. All things are possible but we have got to BELIEVE. Or failing that IMAGINE and hope desperately that we start to believe as we see change (and perhaps miracles) come about. I tell you what: imagining is, in and of itself, pretty darn exciting! There's nothing to lose and a heck of a lot to gain.

You want in...?

Friday, May 22, 2009

evangelism

I am defining the term "to evangelise" in the language of AT! I haven't had a major rant about language and how exciting it is yet but only because my head/schedule is too busy to go into all that. It's all inside waiting for the right time to burst forth.

I just took a French exam today see and next week I have one about creating different mathematical languages so these are pretty relevant examples, nay analogies, of saying the same thing through different expressions. It's an analogy for an analogy!

But I'm late it's tired and this post is not meant to be for anything apart from spreading good news. Hence being an evangel - the word was adopted by Christianity because we tell people the Good News (i.e. Gospel (link)) but linguistically it just means general good news (I think, that's what my inbuilt dictionary tells me anyway). So henceforth I'm taking it literally and going to use "evangelism" as a word to denote telling you about good things I've found.

And the good thing I'm going to tell you about today is this rather fabulous blog I just discovered through an online-community member (life's all about the organic networking) called Verbatim (link). Fabulous idea, brilliantly named creator. Gabriel Smy (I call him Gabe though and he's cool wid it) is the author and 'poetry formed from found text' is the concept. It's sort of like Analogise That! with the noticing stuff in the world to be something more than what it is but with a much more limited (or should I say honed) scope. Finding beauty in the mundane. It has an air of the ridiculous walking hand-in-hand with the sublime that I like. I think this one (link) rocks because it is about computer programming (language in it's most boring form :-P) and the idea of bringing beauty from that textbook is totally analogous to the incredibly beautiful things that programming (which can appear dry to those of us that can't grasp it) creates all the time. Which in inself is analagous to how we find beauty and truth in unexpected and seemingly mundane places, perhaps moreso when there are no trappings... and that brings me full circle to the idea of 'poetry from the ordinary' as both an actual thing and an analogy for life, Ulyssees and the set of numbers between 0 and 1.

If you aren't confused then my hat is way off (metaphorically speaking). I think I may be about to exlode with inexpressible and widely scattered synaptic spasms. The land of bedfordshire is most definitely calling...

Oh and one more thing: small point to BIG, yeah? good points to Good, life points to Fullness of Life, love points to True Love... There is a Reality that all the analogies are just expressing a bit of, showing one aspect of that Truth. A truth but not the whole truth. Well, when I say "evangelise" it's an analogy too. sharing about good news is like Sharing about Good News. Things with a capital letter are the destination to which the analogies all head, so when it's "Evangelism" it's not a simile anymore and you should Listen...! But that is a whole other post/thread/Analogy...

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

How mouldy is too mouldy?

I'm really hungry. I am supposed to be making some long overdue dinner but the analogy in my kitchen won out...

I found some "smoked style cheese" in the fridge with a coupla patches of unexpected growth on it. Then my last soft oatmeal roll, I just now discovered, had a good few blue spots all over it's underside.

The first I chucked in an instant - I only bought it because there was an offer on and the other options were even worse sounding. Silly Kat(i)e. Everybody knows that "style" means "faked" and almost always tastes like "sh*t".

The second I picked off the bits and am about to turn into a smoked bacon and avocado sandwich. In general I strongly oppose waste (it's like death and apathy) and the value that this meal will bring me is more than worth the compromise. Hey, they make medicine out of mould don't they?

But, well, much more and I would have had to bin the bread too. There is only so much imperfection that one can deal with before something becomes unsalvageable. Before it stops being redeemable and just makes one sick. It's a sad fact and my hope is to save as much bread, and other decomposing goods, as possible from being wasted. The imminent destiny of that roll is so scrummy, how gutted would it be to get left too long and miss out on its bacony/avocadoey/wipe of mayo future...?!

The cheese was actually less affected than the bread and I know that, were it a good bit of cheddar, I would had done some scraping foe show. It's lack of quality that made me disinclined. To be honest, that white spot was all the motivation I needed to chuck out something I never really should have bought and definitely oughtn't eat.

I suppose it's a question of payoff. What is the quality/flaw ratio that determines if we seek to rescue or if we bin it and go food shopping? This question applies on many levels and in both directions - from the things we pursue in life, to the way we are pursued. Down here on the superficial 'food decision' base right up to the 'am I being what God/god/gods/other intended me to be' plane... and everything in between. When do we give up/get given up on? What is the qualitative measure and, with respect to this, how mouldy is too mouldy?

Then, as a corollary: how long till I becomes too mouldy? Tick tick tick. We choose our dinner and our destiny but even the best things have a use-by-date (sometimes the better/fresher something is the quicker it needs eating to not go stale). Use it or lose it - that's even in the bible (link)!

Enough of all this, I'm off for tea! In the evening-meal-in-England sense that is. Mmmmmmm, bacon...

Monday, May 18, 2009

Creating Space

What is he doing, that boy in midfield
With the innocent-looking face?

He's losing himself in the midst of the crowd

Creating space.

How does he do it, that ordinary boy

With no obvious surge of pace,

Find for himself in the crowded pitch

A private place?


The rest of the team and the other team too

Are happy to tackle and chase.

He strolls by himself in the midst of the crowd

Creating space.


Where has he gone to, that ordinary boy

With the incredibly smiley face?*

How could he shift from the well-marked pitch

Without a trace?


The rest of the team and the other team too

Continue to tackle and chase.

He's off on his own in a bubble of time

Creating space.


Allan Ahlburg, Friendly Matches, p46. Puffin, London 2002
*words slightly altered to better describe Sam


An ordinary boy was Sam. Yet really really not. Everyone knew - they could see it in his smile - just how different Sam was. The start up message on his phone said "Smile, Jesus loves you" and that is why Sam smiled... and why he was different. A little over two weeks ago this (extra)ordinary boy walked out of his football game, onto the pavement, into the arms of Jesus and now he is home (link).


A message from his dad:

Sam was a great boy. There was a reason he was like he was, its not just because of the way we brought him up or his awesome friends. he was different.

In the Bible it talks about Christians being like aliens, people who are not like other people, people who don't belong to this world, children of God, in fact.


Real Christians, like Sam, are not super heroes, they make mistakes and do things wrong and don't think they are any better than any one else but they know a secret that other people don't know and it makes them smile.


Sam knew that secret.


You wanna learn to smile like him? If you do then you need to know the secret. Thing is, it's not meant to be a secret, God has made it as plain as day.


If you don't believe in God you can't learn to smile like Sam.
But if you believe...

You wanna know more?
Reply to this and I will tell you what I told him and then you can chose to believe it and smile or turn your back on it and live any way you want.

The Bible says that if you know the truth you will be set free.


That makes you smile.




Today I create space for the message of a man that just cremated his extraordinary 11 year old son and still wants people to smile. Can you create the space to hear it? Maybe you already have the space and this "secret" of which we speak sounds like it might just fit...