No Pain, No Gain

I just finished the 10k run in 1:09:08 and a wheelchair. I didn't stop running, I sang most of the way round, and all the time my ankle got worse and worse and worse. But until I crossed the finish line I was upright and smiling.

Soon after I was curled up on the floor cry my eyes out at the physical and emotional climax. It has been one hell of a week and, this done, all I have to look forward to is my French exam tomorrow morning...

You know what though, it's OK to cry.

The point of 'love running' is three-fold but always centred around love. Personal loving in an emotional/physical/spiritual way; community loving as we do it corporately, supporting each other and enjoy fun events together too; loving the world as we raise money for orphans (link), prostitutes (link) and the bereaved (link). When I was training the personal stuff was so true. In the release of the run I very often found myself thinking things through, realising stuff about me and/or God, finding more personal freedom. Physically too I am getting my fitness and figure back and that is quite welcome! In the pain of the training there was so much love and healing going on.

Yeah. There is healing in the pain... and that has been the main truth of this week for me and those around me. It feels like, through all the turmoil, wounds are being reopened and this time they are being closed neatly. It is like a broken bone that fused badly so the doctor has to re-break it. Then reset it. Hearts are being rebroken in my city... and then they will be made whole... and we need our hearts to be able to love.

I go to speech therapy because I've got nodules on my voice box. Me and my therapist tend to spend the whole time laughing and laughing and the best thing about it is - as she told me to my delight a few weeks ago - the way the larynx tilts in laughter releases the bad tension and brings healing. Healing in joy. This week was far more somber but you know what? I have never sung better. The larynx tilts the same way when you cry, don'tcha know, and I'd been doing that all morning. Pretty neat since I'd decided the day before that I want to sing and make music for people to dance (link) to.

I, we, are going to get better and when we have recovered there will be much joy and music and dancing. But right now the healing is still taking place. Some of us may be spiritual orphans that don't really feel cherished or loved by others, or perhaps emotional prostitutes that have no love for themselves. Still more of us are bereaved. Loss of a loved one is hard, even more so when there is no closure (link). We need to be mended.

But there is utter hope in what will come and I really believe that hurting now can be a part of the brighter future I was talking about, back before all this stuff hit the fan. In über Christian language, and please keep an open mind, this is what I mean:

"Let there be tears for what you have done. Let there be sorrow and deep grief. Let there be sadness instead of laughter, and gloom instead of joy. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up in honour." James 4:9-10

Now I don't think we suffer because we have "sinned". I think the world suffers because people have treated each other like crap. That is undeniable if you look at the case of a hit-and-run child killer. It is this corporate attitude against life that affects the innocent bystander. God does not dish out bad things, people do. But yet, in the humbling that comes when we are lying on the ground with snot running down our faces, there the hope lies:

"Then if my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sins and restore their land." 2 Chronicles 7:14

Again. I don't at all think we who suffer now are the specifically "wicked" ones, though no-one can deny imperfection and lack of love to fellow man. I think that everywhere people are living their lives as selfish individuals that don't understand what community is about. When this happens love is lost. When this happens in the extreme life is snatched away. Snatched from happy families, addicted sex-workers and whole nations.

But the reason there is hope is that I believe God will come and heal this land: as people are sorry for their apathetic (or worse) attitude, try to put it right and then love each other as much as they do themselves. Like the 300 of us that took to the streets of Bristol today and have TOGETHER raised £55,000 and counting. I myself only raised £555 (and counting) of that. It's just better together, when we stop being inward and realise that people are supposed to be parts of a bigger organism. If you don't believe me then look at the maths that says we all do better when we are altruistic. (I'll tell you about that another time...).

And this healing, as the voice analogy clearly proves, is in the tears. Cathartic crying that washes away the dirt. I would bring up the suffering of Jesus and the freedom and cleansing that brings but I don't want my ideas to seem exclusive, as I think this is objectively true about the world with or without Christianity (I just happen to also think we need the God bit to put theory into practice).

I bought a new pair of shoes on Tuesday that gave me blisters when I first wore them. That hurt a lot but these shoes are amazingly beautiful, and I totally need new brown ones, and they say "sole reviver" on the bottom.

I reckon that once they are broken in I will be able to wear them anywhere - my soles revived, injected with life, loving freely. The same will be true for my soul... and these shoes are the kind I can dance in!

Yet I cannot dance, or even step, again today. But that's OK. I did 10k and then when I'd given all I could I sat down and took the weight off. I don't have to step out again until I am able... or a worthy enough cause motivates me. In the recovery time someone else pushed the wheelchair; when I had to hobble along I was supported by dear friends on both sides all the way to a taxi; then, because at the last minute I was prompted/remembered to grab a tenner and stick it in my bra "in case I want to catch a taxi to the finish line!", I was able to get home and, though physically alone, I felt that God was with me and providing my transport. I may not have been moving under my own volition but I was moving forward and that is yet further support for living dependent, overlapping lives. Being strong for each other, loving each other, adding value to life for each other. Not only does brokenness come from an individualistic attitude but wholeness of life doesn't seem possible without community.

My friend's blog Good Grief (link) that I talked about the other day starts on the premise that the more we love the more we suffer. I think I would also suggest that, conversely, the more we suffer the more we love. Again, I try not to dwell on the Jesus example but I do think that somehow, just as grief cuts us open to allow healing in, suffering for others in the name of love allows it in to them too... and the ultimate suffering of Christ for humanity would imply ultimate freedom for us all. In a finite, but still pretty cool way, £55,000 will save many many lives and help bring wholeness to yet more... and that's worth a lot more than a sore foot.

I end on a poem. OK, it's in the bible but this is after all my natural language and it is consistent with the analogies:

⁵ What joy for those whose strength comes from the Lord,
who have set their minds on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem.
⁶ When they walk through the Valley of Weeping,
it will become a place of refreshing springs.
The autumn rains will clothe it with blessings.
⁷ They will continue to grow stronger,
and each of them will appear before God in Jerusalem.
Psalm 84

See, it fits. The weeping, the rain, the pilgrimage (which I can only imagine was long and painful and tough on the ole' feet, particularly without a pair of modern supporting shoes). Yet somehow the tears are refreshing and blessing and strengthening for the journey. Appearing before God in Jerusalem - that's the analogy for fullness of life. There is joy right at the start because of the hope at the end. Hence, though pain is the route taken it does not remain the focus or theme, it is not the goal and, actually, it brings with it the necessary strength to arrive at the final destination.

Love Cadette

A post to share the sermon I recommended that was preached on Sunday:

http://www.woodlandschurch.net/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=226&Itemid=119

It's the most recent one called "Vision for Growth" by Dave Mitchell. That was the intended topic of that morning see. It is also, in a very real way, a part of what happens off the back of the accident. As I talked about being a Wolverine yesterday, with passion from devastation to fight evil, I could see that increased vision for the advancement of the Kingdom/fullness of life/good things/perfection/true love. It kicked it home.

But the thing that is most important is the LOVE. Fighting dark with light, evil with good, wrong with right. That is a clear message of the sermon. Not surrendering, as Wolverine was at risk of doing, to being driven by bitterness and a lust for revenge.

We had nickname doing kids work on Saturday because they couldn't have their real name displayed in public (a protection again the sad fact of the dark things of world). We had bandannas which we customised and mine said "Love Cadette". I must remember this, when we go forth. It isn't about revenge but redemption.

One interesting point I just want to highlight (for those that don't listen to it) from the sermon was the question of why. In John 9 it looks like Jesus may give an answer as to why bad things happen:

"Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus.

Simple enough, good clarifier. The next bit Dave explains as having no grammar in the original Hebrew and so I write it without:

"but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life as long as it is day we must do the work of him who sent me night is coming when no one can work while I am in the world I am the light of the world"

Looking at the version of punctuation in the link it may suggest that this happened to display the work of God. That don't sound like my God. The suggestion then is perhaps rather:

"but this happened. So that the work of God might be displayed in his life as long as it is day we must do the work of him who sent me..."

It just happened. We haven't the answer but it is time to get on with the work to display God, that is, display love (link). Get on with bringing the light before it is too late.

"night is coming when no one can work while I am in the world I am the light of the world"

It's the classic "life is too short." While we still can there is light, love, to be brought. You don't have to be sent by God to see that need. You don't have to be told by Jesus that time is running out.

What is your source of light and are you lighting the world? It's all about being a love cadette, not an angry ambitious wolfman gone awol. Nor a circus freak that runs away from confrontation and hides in a tent, playing with lightbulbs and earning the odd dollar from his gift (that one is a more obscure reference... you will need to have seen the film!) - he didn't win his battle when the time came and Wolverine missed the point in the end.

No analogy befits this

God is still good.

Everything I've said about joy and life and hope and possibility still stand. I don't deny them for a minute. However, today I will not chirp with excitement because it is one of those rare times to mourn.

I also don't deny that there can still be these things in a place of grief. But they are not to be bandied about or paraded insensitively since the horrific loss of a young life to a drunk driver occurred in my close community last night.

He nearly got hit by a car that morning and told his mum he would never forget the day he almost died. They had a long conversation about heaven that day because of it, about how great it would be. Then that evening, leaving kids club, standing on the pavement in a crowd of friends, he was gone.

From carefree playing to eternity with Jesus in an instant. It's that close. There are questions we cannot answer and neither have we the right to understand.

We do know that good things will come... but right now we mourn.

1 Thessalonians 4: 13-18
¹³ And now, dear brothers and sisters, we want you to know what will happen to the believers who have died so you will not grieve like people who have no hope. ¹⁴ For since we believe that Jesus died and was raised to life again, we also believe that when Jesus returns, God will bring back with him the believers who have died.

¹⁵ We tell you this directly from the Lord: We who are still living when the Lord returns will not meet him ahead of those who have died. ¹⁶ For the Lord himself will come down from heaven with a commanding shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet call of God. First, the Christians who have died will rise from their graves. ¹⁷ Then, together with them, we who are still alive and remain on the earth will be caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. Then we will be with the Lord forever. ¹⁸ So encourage each other with these words.

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...?!

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...