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...

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)

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...

"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

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.

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)

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.