The beginning of the end

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Patent Declaration of Hope on the Driveway

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

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

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

HONDA!

I love Hondas! :-D

Why? Because they make the Best Adverts Ever.

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

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

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

We have to dream the impossible dream though:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_kE7x8DV4TE&NR=1&feature=fvwp
Note the way the modus operandum changes on the journey... always providing what is required for the terrain.

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

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

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

Dream on! Even when hope is low.

A pertinent verse for me of late has been this:

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

Have some of that...

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...