DEATH the sequal: Jive for Joy

This is a response to what I wrote two weeks ago about DEATH. It is quite a long response, I warn you now, but there are lots of fabulous analogies with a few pics too... and I do actually have a point. The crux of which can be summed up in this bible verse:

The young women will dance for joy,
and the men—old and young—will join in the celebration.
I will turn their mourning into joy.
I will comfort them and exchange their sorrow for rejoicing.

I still wanna expand though. Partly because explaining the long way is my favourite and partly because I really like the story.

The last time I wrote about this I was sad that my dog Wendy had met an untimely end:
If you recall, she had turned vicious (would you believe it from the picture?) and had to be put down :-( I was angry and upset at the waste of life that it symbolised. It was strange, that night I mourned in a way I had not expected, at an intensity I'm not sure a dog deserves... and it felt like God was analogising my pain to His. I don't want to be flippant but I was incredibly aware, to some obviously limited degree, of all the terrible things in the world that He sees as a waste of life.

The next day I was very sad. The weather was too - very dark, rainy, heavy and just generally nasty. I was battling this depressive mood and I just didn't understand how any of the trivially good things in this life that made God glad were a patch on all the darkness. You see, a day or two before I had this image of God smiling on us through a ray of sunshine... but what was one ray of sunshine in all the storm? This weather analogy was reinforced by the art show I had seen the previous day (as I left my very bad exam and was reminded of the important things in the world). It is called the Hard Rain Project and is a photo collection of images that were taken to accompany a song by Bob Dylan. Very powerful. It was printed on weather proof plastic and displayed open air (if you are in Bristol and reading this then tomorrow (Fri 1st May) is the last day and you can find it in the uni royal fort gardens - well worth it). The project calls the song prophetic and, since the artist managed to take tons of images from around the world that very clearly illustrate the lyrics, it is hard not to agree.

"Where the hunger is ugly where souls are forgotten"

How is God not always crying?

Yet as I was in this place he pointed me towards one of my more ridiculous analogies. I rediscovered these in a drawer shortly after I became a Christian and was so delighted by the way I thought they had "prophecied over my life" that I framed them and put them up in my toilet. I call them the 'Pants of Power':

For those that can't see the writing, they say "imagine a brighter future" and there is a picture of a rainbow too!

This day of mourning I suddenly felt like I was being told to once more imagine this brighter future, not just for me but for everything dark. What is with that? Everything is so sad, so utterly sad. Yet, well, two things. Firstly: a rainbow comes when sun shines through clouds and if I think God is sun and there are all these stormy clouds then the result should be that bright rainbow, right? Secondly: well, the bible promises a hope and a future (and rainbows symbolise promises) and it also says that all things are possible if we believe. So, what, imagine it and it can happen?!? OK, granted, the God stuff is less compelling if you ain't a Christian but who doesn't want the crap in this world to be improved? And the notion of belief making things better, well, positive thinking is touted all the time as a means to improve circumstance - this is just that to the nth degree.

Still. I wasn't at all sure how to do this. I was still sad for one... and it still rained. I went out to a jazz bar that night with some good friends and it was OK. Sort of. Nice to be with people that cared anyway. Then towards the end I decided I had to dance the last couple of songs, even though I felt blah. So I stepped out onto the floor... and the song, would you believe it, was "It's the end of the world as we know it" (they were one of those funky country style bands that do amazing remixes). Then the last one was a fabulous mashup of "Seven Nation Army" with "Livin' La Vida Loca". So: this broken world is gonna be different, nothing can stop it, living life in all it's fullness!

It was like I claimed that on the dance floor. I still felt like Shi*t but I said yes to it. I suppose, really, I chose life. I imagined. And then what happened...?

The next day I went to a dance event. Not a pokey bar but an actual, very fabulous, jive night just down the track in Exeter. I got on the train (as opposed to missing it!) and as I traveled further south the sun came through the clouds and I knew everything was gonna be OK. And it was. I caught up with one good friend in the day and then introduced her to another good friend that night and we both made a load more friends! The whole weekend was just great but the dancing, oh boy was the dancing somin' else.

I love to dance and hadn't had the chance to in a while so when the (most excellent) band played for the freestyle set I really just had to go for it. It truly was dancing for joy. Not just with joy but actually for it. Claiming it, walking in it, twirling in it... choosing it with every part of my body. The moment they played "Shine" (with the genius incorporation of (if I remember correctly...?) "Hey Jude" - sad song, make it better?!) I knew that the brighter future was not just possible but, in that moment, it was there. Call it heaven, perfection, life, fullness, joy, happiness, eudaimonia (if you're poncy or an ancient Greek), bliss or the Kingdom of God... It was there in me. Hurrah!

And I think that actually "jiving for joy", or rather "living for joy", might just be what this is all about. I don't mean that it's never gonna be hard, or that we aren't on occasion in a time to grieve rather than dance, but in general we should not be at a place of mourning. The world is not dead yet. We ourselves are not dead yet. There is a hope for us all to escape a mediocre life and, if we imagine hard enough, for them out there to escape their proper actual suffering too. Everything, literally everything, can be changed for the better. So bring on the joy and let's get optimistic!

Since then it has more or less sun-shined non-stop. I have felt pretty chirpy these past two weeks too and it's the kind that don't get beaten by fluctuating dissertations or foxes. I think it might be His plan and it certainly feels like what life is supposed to be... but more on that another time because this is actually only half the post I was gonna write and it's already pretty long. The next installment is about what this brighter future, or "heaven on earth" looks like. It takes the form of a carrot at one point and, handily, there is also a formula for making it happen.

Oooh, just one more thing though. I recall something I said that Thursday night (before the sadness hit) about what I thought heaven would be like. It was one of those jokey this-is-what-I-like-now-so-I think-it's-that-all-the-time convos and I said that for me it would be dancing... Then the next two days with their little revelations happened... Then, as I got the bus home from the train station on Sunday in Brizzle, I got chatting to some girl and jiving came up. Randomly she goes every week and told me about her class on Monday nights! So I got home, saw Becca (my friend with whom I tried jiving (also in Exeter, I haven't analogised the dancing in Devon yet but it is curious!) two months ago and have since wanted to find a class together) almost straight away, and now we're excited to go just as soon as we can...!

So, well, if heaven is dancing then it seems I should be getting on with it asap. More generally, if life is about having heaven (or "heaven") now and dancing means joy, then maybe everyone should be getting on with it. After all, I think that living life in all its fullness might just be the point. Incidentally so did Jesus, but that's another story...


P.S. I'm not saying just switch on joy but rather to decide to actively look for it and then, if you find it, choose it. God helps if you've got Him. If not, well, you tell me...?!

Spring is Here!

Phew! I'm allowing myself half an hour to vent amidst the craziness of writing a dissertation-type-thing in four days (2 to go)... this post is about sex.

Not actual sex, obviously. But something in that vague arena...

I have been going on and on to everyone I meet about how fabulous spring is because it symbolises newness of life. I even quoted Song of Songs on here as a demonstration of Jesus-love. Both these things are true, of course, but the fact is spring is mostly about procreation and Song of Songs is mostly about people getting it on.

I read a blog to this effect (you know who you are!) on Easter day, sharing just why the reason for the season was makin' babies and, well, frankly I was on a higher plane. Then.

But today I suddenly got reminded of what "spring" feels like. Lol. You can tell I'm under the influence of pressure-mentalness because I'm saying shocking things in an open forum that my folks read! Of course I'm only talking about eye contact with a "boy" in the supermarket... I was just totally surprised by the way I noticed someone attractive in public. I don't remember the last time that happen, I even remarked upon it to a friend last week who entirely didn't believe me. I'd forgotten what it felt like to pass a stranger and nod with internal appreciation. For fear of sounding holier-than-thou, I don't think I approve of all that jazz so I reckon this might just be the result of a conscious decision I made ages ago about valuing inner beauty. But today I was taken unawares and, realising that eye contact was made, became the Supermarket Slut I thought I was no longer! Yes, there was a second, reciprocated, glance... yes, I entertained the idea that since we both wore glasses and liked the same vegetables we were probably made for each other... yes, it turned out he had a girlfriend. See. There, right there, is the reminder as to why this is a foolish game: because when we play it we feel a bit foolish! It was available to me, I tried it, it didn't feel good.

The analogy? Well, spring it seems is a dangerous time to indulge in boy-shopping... particularly when there are dissertation-type-things crying out to be avoided. Last week I helped make mashed potatoes for around 40 people and when we discuss about how to season it the notion of mustard was mentioned... but sadly 40 is quite a large number of people to chance them all liking mustard and so we didn't. Today I made mash for one and I still forgot about mustard! Luckily though I remembered towards the end and totally appreciated dijon on the side... but it was a close call (and a bit past its use by date!). It's all about appreciating the benefits of where you are at (relations, locations, vocations... the analogy is flexible as long as it rhymes). Cooking for one? Do it your way. Cooking for 40? SLUT.

Well. I'm already missing out on spring 'cause where I'm at is my final-ever-(I hope!)-month-of-undergraduate-study and if I'm not careful I'll end up missing out on my degree as well... So see ya!

Love

Reading Plato's Symposium, a conversation of Socrates, I found this speech by a dude called Agathon:

"[H]ad Love been in those days, there would have been no chaining or mutilation of the gods, or other violence, but peace and sweetness, as there is now in heaven, since the rule of Love began.

Love is young and also tender; he ought to have a poet like Homer to describe his tenderness, as Homer says of Ate, that she is a goddess and tender:

Her feet are tender, for she sets her steps,
Not on the ground but on the heads of men: herein is an excellent proof of her tenderness that,-she walks not upon the hard but upon the soft.

Let us adduce a similar proof of the tenderness of Love; for he walks not upon the earth, nor yet upon skulls of men, which are not so very soft, but in the hearts and souls of both god, and men, which are of all things the softest: in them he walks and dwells and makes his home. Not in every soul without exception, for Where there is hardness he departs, where there is softness there he dwells; and nestling always with his feet and in all manner of ways in the softest of soft places, how can he be other than the softest of all things? Of a truth he is the tenderest as well as the youngest, and also he is of flexile form; for if he were hard and without flexure he could not enfold all things, or wind his way into and out of every soul of man undiscovered. And a proof of his flexibility and symmetry of form is his grace, which is universally admitted to be in an especial manner the attribute of Love; ungrace and love are always at war with one another. The fairness of his complexion is revealed by his habitation among the flowers; for he dwells not amid bloomless or fading beauties, whether of body or soul or aught else, but in the place of flowers and scents, there he sits and abides. Concerning the beauty of the god I have said enough; and yet there remains much more which I might say. Of his virtue I have now to speak: his greatest glory is that he can neither do nor suffer wrong to or from any god or any man; for he suffers not by force if he suffers; force comes not near him, neither when he acts does he act by force. For all men in all things serve him of their own free will, and where there is voluntary agreement, there, as the laws which are the lords of the city say, is justice. And not only is he just but exceedingly temperate, for Temperance is the acknowledged ruler of the pleasures and desires, and no pleasure ever masters Love; he is their master and they are his servants; and if he conquers them he must be temperate indeed. As to courage, even the God of War is no match for him; he is the captive and Love is the lord, for love, the love of Aphrodite, masters him, as the tale runs; and the master is stronger than the servant. And if he conquers the bravest of all others, he must be himself the bravest.

Of his courage and justice and temperance I have spoken, but I have yet to speak of his wisdom-and according to the measure of my ability I must try to do my best. In the first place he is a poet (and here, like Eryximachus, I magnify my art), and he is also the source of poesy in others, which he could not be if he were not himself a poet. And at the touch of him every one becomes a poet, even though he had no music in him before; this also is a proof that Love is a good poet and accomplished in all the fine arts; for no one can give to another that which he has not himself, or teach that of which he has no knowledge. Who will deny that the creation of the animals is his doing? Are they not all the works his wisdom, born and begotten of him? And as to the artists, do we not know that he only of them whom love inspires has the light of fame?-he whom Love touches riot walks in darkness. The arts of medicine and archery and divination were discovered by Apollo, under the guidance of love and desire; so that he too is a disciple of Love. Also the melody of the Muses, the metallurgy of Hephaestus, the weaving of Athene, the empire of Zeus over gods and men, are all due to Love, who was the inventor of them. And so Love set in order the empire of the gods-the love of beauty, as is evident, for with deformity Love has no concern. In the days of old, as I began by saying, dreadful deeds were done among the gods, for they were ruled by Necessity; but now since the birth of Love, and from the Love of the beautiful, has sprung every good in heaven and earth. Therefore, Phaedrus, I say of Love that he is the fairest and best in himself, and the cause of what is fairest and best in all other things. And there comes into my mind a line of poetry in which he is said to be the god who

Gives peace on earth and calms the stormy deep,
Who stills the winds and bids the sufferer sleep. This is he who empties men of disaffection and fills them with affection, who makes them to meet together at banquets such as these: in sacrifices, feasts, dances, he is our lord-who sends courtesy and sends away discourtesy, who gives kindness ever and never gives unkindness; the friend of the good, the wonder of the wise, the amazement of the gods; desired by those who have no part in him, and precious to those who have the better part in him; parent of delicacy, luxury, desire, fondness, softness, grace; regardful of the good, regardless of the evil: in every word, work, wish, fear-saviour, pilot, comrade, helper; glory of gods and men, leader best and brightest: in whose footsteps let every man follow, sweetly singing in his honour and joining in that sweet strain with which love charms the souls of gods and men."

I like finding things that resonate with me. Analogise That! is about pockets of Truth being located everywhere. Just because the semantics or the context might not fit with my own specific beliefs [i.e. that Jesus (who is both God and Love) is both necessary and The Best!] doesn't mean that people aren't connecting with Truth. If it's there it's unavoidable.

Victory!

I saw three foxes running away from me tonight on my walk home. Yeah, that's right, one walked right up close but I glared at it and it turned and fled.

I reckon that the answer is in discipline. We can't expect to be constantly free of all challenges, that's not what character development is about. If we want to stare down our foxes we need to choose to stand our ground. I realise that "catching" isn't the same as "killing". They aren't gone... but they can be mastered and rendered powerless.

Someone in my "online-community" wrote a very useful list that helps remind me of ways to be disciplined. I don't really know if Rich minds being a link on my blog but he is and here it is:

A very useful list

Physical actions really make a difference, well it's all connected in't it: body mind and soul (and spirit!). Doing such things is a good way to choose to be alive.

So now that I've run out of productive energy I'm off to bed... and tomorrow I think I may just go for a run...!

Me: 1, Foxes: 0

:-D

Pesky Little Foxes

I don't have a big enough zoom so you're just going to have to take my word on this one:

There is a fox asleep on the roof of an extension that you can see from my living room window. I don't even think it would be visible if they hadn't taken that tree down! I saw it this morning and thought it was kinda sweet how it hides away up there until it is safe to come out at night.

WRONG. Not sweet, at all.

Today I made a new friend from Wales. (Soon I am going to tell you just how absolutely brilliant and blessed the Welsh are. Not my words but the message of a novelty apron located in an Exeter gift shop.) She came with a dear friend from Switzerland for a brief but wonderful visit, on their way back from that conference I mentioned the other day - the one with all the miracles. It was great, we got to talk about just how fabulous God is! I really appreciated the injection of enthusiasm as, though I do know it's true in a really real way, recently I have found it a bit tougher to keep that consistent throughout the day (it's like this spring weather - glorious but unreliable). In particular, I get more of a despondent cow as the day draws to a close... you may have noticed by my past few evening blogs!

So. Standard truth that we should get enough sleep to function properly physically and emotionally. Standard but IMPORTANT.

I commented to the Welsh lady about how those things (which we all have) that niggle at my peace had been niggling a bit more recently and she said something about them being like foxes. I can't remember verbatim but I reckon the general idea was something to do with how they cause mild destruction, perhaps just making a whole load of noise when you want to sleep or attacking the chickens/bins. Foxes aren't deadly lions are they, they just aren't particularly helpful either.

I didn't think all this at first, or even remember the sleeping fox I saw that morning. I actually thought, "that's strange, did I dream about foxes?" because the notion of "pesky foxes" rang a bell somewhere in the back of my mind. Then I remembered... I was reading about then in the bible not two days before!

This is the passage, you can find it in Song of Songs:

"Catch all the foxes,
those little foxes,
before they ruin the vineyard of love,
for the grapevines are blossoming!"

This is from a whole chapter about springtime that my friend had told me about because she knew I was excited by the "new beginning-ness" of spring (seasons, how can one not Analogise That!?). It's a love poem/anthology of love poems and, what with me not having a "lover", I read it like Jesus is my boyfriend. Well, I try. Sometimes I read it for the hilarity of the metaphors.

Those foxes. They're a perfect description of how actually there is all this wonderful love and good things blossoming right now (despite, nay including the fact I have to write a dissertation type project in 5 days!) yet, somehow, an imperfect shadow occasionally falls over it. They sleep harmlessly enough in the light but they still are skulking about threatening and encroaching upon peace whenever they are allowed... every evening attempting to take over and ruin the vineyard.

Does anyone else have pesky little foxes trying to rain on their parade? How are we gonna catch 'em? The passage wasn't so clear on that and I'm pretty sure the metaphor doesn't extend to actual shot guns and 4-by-4's...

Blogging when you have nothing to blog about

This has got to be an analogy for something.

It's not that I haven't got any ideas. There are always ideas. I just haven't got any passion for them. I am tired and a little bit disgruntled by things not going exactly my way!

And so I blog.

But not in vain, oh no! This blog is the analogy for those things in life that are meaningless turd just filling in the gaps. I should be going to bed if nothing else but I blog... and I do it for you! So that in reading how irrelevantly dull this whole post is you will realise that you too waste precious moments of your life doing absolutely nothing.

Perhaps it's surfing the intra-web late at night (reading pointless blogs!); or checking facebook an unhealthy amount; perhaps it is thinking about dross when you should be doing your homework; or overanalysing things outside your control... it may be playing too many video games or watching too much tv (though I doubt it - is it just me or is television uncool these days? It's far too single service and dictated by someone else). This blog is a nothing blog and it represents nothingness and how bland and rubbish that is.

...

As I was finishing the last paragraph I got a phonecall from a friend who is at a Christian conference not 2 hours from my house where hundred and hundred of miraculous healings are happening on a daily basis. The kind like in bible times that is. Now, whether you believe it's possible or not, it is clearly more exciting than sitting around being apathetic and insipid. Not just more exciting, more purposeful. More alive. How much of a loser am I?!

So. What changes must I make so that I am not indulging in nothingness and what other options are out there? Granted, it may well be my maths homework... but it could be just about a million-and-one other things including but not limited to witnessing blind people see.

I'll let you know when I find something to blog about...!

Weak, Broken, Vandalised?

This sunshine recently, well, there is a whole blog in that just waiting to be made ready, but in brief: it has been Good. Really wonderful symbol of really wonderful things. Lots of light, nearly summer, winter is so over it is untrue. I've been joyful.

Not so much today though. Today has been a test of joy as something that doesn't give in to external rubbish. The way I see it, real joy keeps going despite circumstances that would try and break us. Inner life that resists all the outer troubles; that defies death. If everything was always wonderful then the remarkable surviving capacity of joy would never be known. So, when my potent delight started getting a bit wobbly today, I just had to choose a joy filled life even more. Strangely enough, for the best part it worked.

Until now. This evening life has been all about the broken sunglasses and destroyed artwork. The choice to be joyful felt firmly taken. I was too tired, too worried, too comfortable in my misery to carry on choosing. Or at least to want to... and wanting to choose is kinda where it is at.

I broke my sunnies by being careless, flippant some may say. Sounds like me. I shouldn't have chucked them in my handbag along with everything else I carry around and expect the arm not to snap off. I've taken the risk enough times but I ought to have known better. Why is it we have to learn the hard way? Gutting. Loved those shades but obviously not enough to look after them.

As for destroyed art. Time ago, when I first moved to this city and I wrote a different blog, I got excited about this graffiti:

I said it was a Banksy (very famous local artist) but actually I was wrong. It is a Nick Walker (famous-if-you're-cool local artist).What I never got around to saying at the time is that this happened but a few weeks later:

Isn't that just a proper shame? I noticed it again this evening as I was walking home from my 'up-and-down, I was defeating it but not so much now' day.

Then, well, I sort of was thinking about all these weak, broken and vandalised things that say defeat and misery and destruction and stupidity and hate and lack of perfection... and I started to look on the bright side! Or not so much but, well, I'll explain...

Take the picture. I don't entirely understand it, granted, but there seems quite a good vibe. You got the heart, the romantic plotline. It looks like a picture of alternative love. Then some scally-wag comes along and corrupts it by performing actually destructive paintwork on top, denouncing all that is stands for in proclaiming freedom for "vandals". However, if you see the idea of Vandalism as being the main message then, actually, the picture itself getting vandalised can in some poetically just way be seen as an unlikely but in-keeping response to the original; merely reinforcing the ambiguity between beauty and mess. Moreover, perhaps it is even about the 2-D artist "Prince Charming" abusing Rapunzel and the picture is really about love being a vandal: a harmful, corrupting force... so whoever came along has just let the b*stard have it...?!

The chances are that it was a bored, jealous rascal trying to bring destruction and death. But you know what, even if it is that I reckon it makes no difference to what comes from it. That kid can't control the spin that we put on the muck, transforming rubbish into beauty as we see truth in it. He hasn't a clue what genuinely positive results come from something and he can't control it neither.

As for my careless, smashy smashy attitude. Well, on Saturday I couldn't find my fave ever sunglasses, not for love nor money. I only just spotted them yesterday morning as I left but I was in a hurry so I took the ones I already had in my bag: the big brown ones that were bought as a bit of a joke in Dublin oh so long ago... It was those what got broken, not the black heart-shaped ones I adore that have already been replaced for me once! (Lol. I swear only one reader will even know what I'm talking about... but she will care so I mention it for you Miss Spitfire!) My point? Perhaps I made a mistake but it could have been worse and from learning the hard way I can avoid doing so when it is really important. Perhaps it was a narrow escape. I don't really know what this means apart from about sunglasses! I think it is something to do with not beating myself up for when things go wrong and I feel, or indeed am, responsible.

All this may seem highly speculative (when does it not?!) but I reckon, perhaps, even speculation can fall into the graffiti camp. Doesn't really matter what motivation may be behind people, doesn't really matter what the result looks like on the surface or how bad the day gets, good can still come... somehow. There is a verse in the bible that talks about this, it is one of my favourites:

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=romans%208:28;&version=31;

Kinda makes me hopeful that no matter how much I mess up something, someone messes up me, or even when a situation feels so dark and dead that I can longer "muster up" joy myself, it doesn't really matter. It will still all be OK. Nothing can be so weak, broken or vandalised that it can't be turned to good, no matter how bad it may initially seem. Now there's something to be glad about!

Nothing There

Today I faced up to something I should have done ages ago.

Bit of a confession: when I first moved into my current flat I set up about half my bills with a direct debit and the rest I never got round to. Paid a couple as they came and then, well, the novelty wore off and the second law of thermodynamics took over. I really am very disorganised in some ways and if it all gets too much to have to think about I just shut it out. Haven't got any reds through yet (that I'm aware of) but this whole fingers in ears, eyes shut, make-a-loud-noise type o' thing is really not very grown-up...

So, prompted in love by my mother, I got in touch with my telephone and internet provider. I have paperless bills but part of the problem is I don't really understand all that stuff, so I just phoned 'em. I pressed the number prompts according to what service I needed, told them my "personal private details" so they could see my account, and then asked them what it actually said. They were a bit confused so I explained that I wasn't very good at keeping on top of such things, or working out internet based access, and didn't really know what was going on or how to sort the whole mess out.

It turns out I've been paying them all along and didn't realise it! Best part is that unless I run out of money, or move, I don't ever have to worry about it again! Apparently they just do it all for me now... I am not as disorganised as I thought :-D

However, perhaps I am more so if I totally forgot! I've spent God-knows-how-long assuming I was inadequate and the avoidance factor in all this meant I didn't find out for ages that I'm not. In finally facing it, despite the fear, I realised that all I had to face was the fear. There was nothing else there to worry about at all! My ignored failing was actually not a failing, yet I then went on to create one anyway. How silly is that?

Goodness. We avoid facing small (or even non-existent) things and generate terrible ones in their place. Talk about a hindrance to Living in Fullness. I really do need to get in touch with Mr Gas Man and Ms Electric next though... I definitely owe them money. Best do it before they summon me to court too - this leniency won't last forever!

Analogies analogies everywhere...

I think I'm going slightly insane!

I'm busy writing a paper that analogises evolution and the development of society, creating a game theoretic model that proves once and for all that being a Christian is better. I haven't actually got the sums done but I firmly believe this will work... Not proving Jesus mind, just showing that if He were to exist then it would truly optimise life for all. It is the most exciting thing I have ever done in maths (and that's saying something!) but is also due *quite* soon and isn't as yet on any sort of page. Ergo, I don't have the time right now to blog what God said to me about when death is bad (see my last post). It is a poignant response that spans at least 5 (and counting...) of the most diverse metaphors I have ever been blessed with. So watch this space... it even involve vegetables!

Instead you can have this brief one:

The Icecream of Friendship

How can I not when she became my first follower today :-)

I met up with Becca this afternoon to rewitness one of the aforementioned metaphors (not the vegetable, though it did come up). We rendezvous'd by the icecream van because when I heard she was there I packed up my books and practically ran down the road...! Wow was today sunny (oh it was glorious! But I will not be sidetracked...), I simply had to celebrate that with my first whippy of the season!!

She had been trying to resist when I turn up and broke her discipline in an instant. It was ok though 'cause we had both had derivatives of carrot for lunch, so it was not a wrong thing to do. When we ordered (both having a small vanilla whip with strawberry sauce, chopped nuts and a flake (of course)), she was the one that then kept my greedy enthusiasm from getting a larger size.

It was beautiful. Encouraging each other away from unhealthy extremes to enjoy life as fully as possible, with all the wonderful add-ons that only friendship can bring - taking you from bland single cone to flavour explosion!

And so I showed her the incredible open-air photography exhibition that had moved me so much, she introduced the brilliant initiative of playing an accompanying soundtrack, and these pink sauce and nuts were topped off with the big chunk of flaky chocolate love that we can only get from sharing life with those people that we are most blessed by. You know... the crumbliest ones... where the chocolate tastes like it never tasted before...!

DEATH

Today spoke to me of death. Many many times.

I've been thinking about this idea: life being made alive and death being put to dead. It makes sense to me - the full completion of each. It is strange that life would lead to death, is it not? Life is so, well, full of vitality. That's why I reckon resurrection is logical - where's the paradox in alive life? We don't start at death so why end on it...

When I talk of death I do so loosely.I mean those things that bring an end to life, growth, hope, joy, wholeness, love. If it's destroying the destruction of good things death doesn't really sound so bad; only when we apply it to life do we worry... because it goes against our most basic survival instincts.

I saw hope in alive life as death was put to death a couple of times today:

Outside my window there was a tree. This morning it looked something like this:

(Note the rainbow!)

Then, as I was getting ready to go to an exam (that marks the midpoint of my degree), it was suddenly being ravaged. I witnessed in awe as they climbed and chainsawed and pulled down this gigantic beast until it looked like this:


Then, when I came home a few hours later, all that was left was:

The stump comes out next week... (!)

And so the springyness of the blossom tree behind testifies to new life in the wake of the destroyed dominating giant. There will be so much more light, sunshine all summer long and a lawn to enjoy. Unkempt the tree was going to continue to expand - taking over everything. Oppressing, darkening and eventually destroying the foundations of homes as it cast a shadow over our lives. It is finished. Victory to the garden!


When I went down to have a closer inspection of the operation I also noticed this absolutely beautiful thing:


How fragile. How symbolic - perhaps it is another reminder of all the potential that spring holds...?!

I went to take the exam with a whole load of God given peace which was nice. He was putting to death all these constricting things and I knew that freedom in my heart :-) Anything was possible.

I almost completely failed. I actually may have.

Yet even now ('cause I think it may be permanent) I have accepted it with (and I do believe this is actual) Joy! Once upon a time I wanted to assert everything I was by this qualification and now I Know categorically that I cannot get a brilliant grade. I may not even get a good grade... but it is really and truly OK and, well, it sure takes the pressure off the next month! On my way home, as I mused upon these things, I saw this on the pavement and had to take a picture on my phone (despite looking quite mental):

How sad. How poignant. How definitely an analogy! I asked God what He was saying and I think that perhaps this is it: Associating everything that comes in spring (nay in life) as a good thing because it is beautiful is not always wise. Bees are dangerous (hence the colouring) and very very vulnerable. They only sting you once and then die. You can't depend on a bee.

You can't depend on a degree either. They can be good but they are not secure. I think God put to death once and for all in me (in the sense that it is irreversible) the disproportional hope that I put on my name being written on a certificate vs my name being written in His book of life. In this I grieved the 1st (top mark given at British universities) and then found comfort in the truth that God is my first love and absolutely anyone can qualify for His letters after their name.


But death does still often follow from life. And this makes me angry. Angry in a way that stems from the illogic. The injustice. The fact that I think there should be no more death and my belief that there really can be.

My dog is dead.

This makes me very very sad. I do not use Wendy's name in vain when I analogise her passing.

I can't believe that precious bundle of love, life, joy, affection, energy, beauty, family, friend, comforter, companion, running buddy... it makes me cry just to write this.

Yet, and this is why I am so so gutted, she is the one that would seem (in real life as opposed to analogy land) to deserve it the most. For she was put down today for attacking my mum.

And she has always been a bit of an interesting character. It was probably a risk to keep her as long as we did (it would be 4 years this summer) as her temper would make her grumble and her irritable nature was not always predictable. If people admired her in street (and they would. Not only was she a darling but her stunted growth meant she looked like a perpetual puppy) we would warn them not to touch. We had a system at home - when in the bed do not touch! She would greet me every morning with so much love it was untrue but even I would get growled at for standing near her basket at night. She was a bit of an unstable bitch and I know that, in the end, she had to go.

But the thing that makes me so cross is this:

What was put to death today was not death but life. Life destroyed by a weakness that, in this instance, was a character flaw. But one that masked her true nature, not defined it. Stemmed from too much breeding and not enough discipline. It was like she had no choice.

Yet she had a choice. We all do. I don't mean choose Jesus (I do also mean choose Jesus!) I mean it for every situation every day. We don't have to decide to react in a way that brings death - with hate, negativity, apathy, misery, stagnation, brokenness, fear... When we choose death, death will have it's way in us and there will be no fullness of life. In the bigger picture I would talk about eternal life conquering separation from God (the giver of life). In the right here, right now, I talk about becoming Wendy. Letting the things that come easy to us be the things that become us.

If we exist in death we are dead already, dead whilst breathing, for where is life in allowing the dross to survive? What is good? My analogies don't say. I suppose we must decide that for ourselves (hint: bible!). The question is, are you living what you call life? And if not then are you on the way to execution?

The thing that makes me so frustrated is that sometime I wonder if people actually can choose life - 'cause if so then Why Don't They? In God I believe all things are possible, I really do. I just don't know that I believe in people. Or dogs. Can a leopard really change its spots?

When I lose all hope I remember that the Bible says it can. Actually, the Bible says it can't but that is in the Old Testament and the New one totally amends that by sending Jesus! Is Jesus a necessary condition to achieve that whole life? I think so but feel free to prove me wrong. Is Jesus sufficient...?

If we do claim full life in Christ, which He did promise us, then yes He is. But choosing Jesus isn't choosing a name, it is choosing a whole way of life. You know where to look - biblegateway has a ton of versions and they print them on paper too don'tcha know. It's not easy, I'm not saying it is. I'm saying we need to decide to be prepared to really change and then show this decision in our actions. Just adopting a title isn't enough.

So, Christian or not, an act of WILL must take place to LIVE. There is a very brilliant side to this whole "death begins now" thing which is that if we choose life today then "life begins now"! That wholeness of life we want, free from the crap. (For Jesus-people that means "eternal life begins now" which is just mental. It's why He said the Kingdom of Heaven is right here, right now and the reason healing and miracles are still viable options!! Scary stuff but that's what life is about to us.)

I don't see enough of this proper life (or the Kingdom) anywhere (myself included) and it is getting me fed up. Please please prove me wrong and choose to live the life that you were intended to. Leopards CAN change their spots, they just can.

Don't let Wendy die in vain.

Birthday Pie

My mother is ace.

Last night I celebrated my birthday meal with the family and I didn't get a cake.... For why have cake when you can have homemade BANOFFEE PIE?!?! Candles and everything.

There was also an alternative of apple crumble pie for those that didn't feel bananary. [As a side note: the whole meal was totally pie based with fish pie to start. Interestingly they each had a different main structural component - potato, then biscuit, then pastry/crumbliness. I haven't worked out an analogy for this yet but maybe you've got one...?]

Banana was a clear win. Twice. Why have apple when you can have banoffee?

This whole pie scenario quite clearly pointed me to a back-street wall that I once stumbled upon whilst lost in Vienna a while ago. I really needed to hear/see its message just then (funny how things like that happen). This one shouldn't take too much interpretation:


Time passes, people age. It seems I am more than satisfied with bananas now! Are you?


P.S.
This is not to say I don't like cake mind. Becca: banana and wall-nut (get it?!) would certainly go down well, though feel free to see where your intuition leads you... Perhaps there are yet more insights to be gleaned from baked goods before the week is out!

"Let's start at the very beginning..."

The birth of a blog.

We begin on Easter day because this blog is the result of a lenten fast. I will tweak my layout, add some more details and who knows what else in due course... but today is about getting started and the title tells enough for now.

So for a first post we do, of course, have an Easter theme. I was thinking a few weeks ago about how many people call themselves Christians (I'm one of them by the way) and how this can mean a whole host of different things. For me the belief in and attempted following of Jesus Christ is a necessary element but this isn't true for everyone it seems. The next day I came across the music for a song that did quite a good job of expressing how I feel about the Christian life so I'll let the lyrics tell you what Christianity means to me:

Beneath the cross of Jesus
I find a place to stand,
And wonder at such mercy
That calls me as I am;
For hands that should discard me
Hold wounds which tell me, "Come."
Beneath the cross of Jesus
My unworthy soul is won.

Beneath the cross of Jesus
His family is my own—
Once strangers chasing selfish dreams,
Now one through grace alone.
How could I now dishonour
The ones that You have loved?
Beneath the cross of Jesus
See the children called by God.

Beneath the cross of Jesus—
The path before the crown—
We follow in His footsteps
Where promised hope is found.
How great the joy before us
To be His perfect bride;
Beneath the cross of Jesus
We will gladly live our lives.

It's by Keith and Kristyn Getty and you can listen to it here: http://www.gettydirect.com if you like.

So. Yeah. I've wanted to share that for a while and now I have a blog again I can!

Living gladly beneath the cross of Jesus. This is my analogy for Christianity and so for my life. Hence I post it first - because it comes first. The cross itself is a symbol for oh so many things, perhaps the most basic and powerful being death. There are many more but they are not for today.

For today, Easter, is about what comes next. After the cross. After death. The day of resurrection and rebirth. The day that means new life. And what better analogy for this blog is there?! A new blog that comes from the death of an old blog; which is in itself a metaphor for the beginning of a new chapter in life that follows from the end of the last; which has only been possible through the death of Jesus and His life changing resurrection power!

It seems to me that having the cross at the beginning - of this blog, this life, everything - is "a very good place to start".