Earth is crammed with heaven

It's taken me a while to get to a point where I could write this post. Last year I wrote here http://karensandford.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/in-search-of-joy.html about being in search of joy. But this year was bound to be different. The darkness of last year's Advent was no more. It wasn't the first Christmas without our loved ones. The boys are happy. I'm enjoying my new church and ministry. Chris is fulfilled in his new role. Christmas joy would be all around, right? Well actually... The truth is that it's been harder to find joy this December than last. And I write not to gain your sympathy But because I'm reminded how difficult this time of year is for so many. The race to feel "Christmassy" is well and truly on. What will help us in our quest for that Holy Grail? Carols Parties Carol Services Christmas plays Cards Presents Winter Wonderland? Well none of them worked for me. And in my prayers last week I felt God say,

I had to bite my tongue today. Hard. I was in the hairdressers And the lady next to me, And her stylist, Spent about half an hour Talking about men. Apparently the secret of her long marriage is pretending. She pretends she needs her husband to do things. She pretends she's not strong enough. If she wants something to happen she plants the seeds And pretends he's really clever to think of such a thing. Half an hour earlier I overheard a group of women congratulating a poor, helpless workman On his ability to multi-task. Really? Come on girls we can do better than that! Now I know they're not perfect by a long stretch But then neither are we. Most men I know are decent human beings. They love well. They think for themselves. They work hard to help provide for people who depend on them. They may not always be able to multi-task, but sometimes I wish I didn't. I'm not trivializing the reality for many women throughout the world who are b

I went for an Advent Quiet Day today. For guidance we were given the four songs of Advent. Zechariah Mary The Angels Elizabeth They all sang praises to God. Songs of assurance Of faith Of hope Of trust. But there was something else that I noticed today. In every case Fear preceded the song. Fear preceded the blessing. In every case they were told, "Don't be afraid". One of my hang overs from my illness and loss is fear. I can still do ministry. I can still lead worship. I can still go into new situations. But fear grips me. I feel anxious And tearful And afraid. But God reminded me today That feeling afraid is part of what makes us human. It brings the 'fight or flight' response in us. It's ok to feel afraid. I don't need to be ashamed of it. But fear needn't cripple me. God has already fought the fight for me. When I am weak He is strong.

Well you've done it again. And every time it takes me by surprise. And how quickly I forget Until I come into your presence with intent And you meet me And love me And strengthen me And bless me beyond my imaginings Again and again. As I list your gifts... The little things in my life... My spirit leaps within me. And something Joy? Bubbles up from within. And you're here And you're now And you love How you love... Gratitude turns my heart to you. And mechanical lists of the mundane Become prayers of thanks. And I'm surprised Over and over by the same thing. That you're here That you're now And you love How you love. And you meet me And love me And strengthen me And bless me beyond my imaginings Again and again.

I had a free day to myself yesterday. I promised myself I could do whatever I wanted. The only rule was I had to do it alone. Now I love people. I love sharing chat And laughs And coffee And food And more chat. But yesterday was to be different. Yesterday was my day for alone-time with Jesus. A whole day without interruptions Doing whatever I liked But with Jesus. When the rain cleared And I saw the azure sky And the brilliant sunshine I decided to start up Reigate Hill. I knew there were trees And wide open spaces And spectacular views And there was Jesus. We shared a lot, He and I. There was intense prayer And tears And an overwhelming sense of being loved. He reminded me that he is Healer. And he took me to a place where 6 months previously I had known deep, deep distress. He reminded me that in that distress I gained courage And self-worth And confidence And his plan for my future was realised just a few days later. And he told me

I love the word Grace. If I'd had a little girl I wanted to call her Charis, which is grace in Greek. But I didn't have a girl. And Charis Sandford has too many s's. But I digress. I would love to be graceful. To glide when I walk instead of clomp. To have that aura of serenity that people have. Especially tall people Who are also slim And have long legs I hate them already! And there lies the rub. I do suffer a bit from the green eyed monster. I realised last week that I'm great at weeping with those who weep. But rejoicing with those who rejoice I struggle with sometimes Especially if they seem to live a charmed life. And are tall And slim With long legs And are graceful... You see?? The phrase "full of grace and truth" has been on my mind today. I thought it described Mary,  but it describes Jesus coming into the world. The Word became flesh And dwelt among us  Full of grace and truth. Oh to be like Him! Full of grace and truth.

It's Friday. That day where we write for the pure joy of writing. Then we link up here http://lisajobaker.com/category/five-minute-friday/ Why not join in? Today's prompt is TOGETHER "We're all in this together One sweet note that we are, we're all stars..." I can still do the dance routine. The one we learnt as a team Ready to share with the children coming to camp. There's a togetherness that comes from sharing that kind of experience. When sleep is scarce But laughs are abundant And God-moments come from all kinds of places. And this week I remembered another kind of togetherness. The links between fellow-travellers The connectedness The encouragement The sharing The prayers The tears that spring to eyes as I remembered We truly are all in this together We Jesus-followers We Salvationists We officers who form "the leadership team of The Salvation Army." We know... The joys The sorrows The pain The blessings Th

I am sticking my neck out on this one. I don't do this often. And it concerns a Bi-annual event which all Salvation Army officers in the UK attend. It's held in a lovely setting in Swanwick, Derbyshire, so that's what we call it. We attend one of five identical sessions which last for two days. It's a place that holds many memories, good and bad. There are apocryphal tales of terrible food and accommodation. Of single rooms and one bathroom with no shower between 20 people. That last is true. I am enough of an old Major to remember... I guess the thing that concerns me most is the statement of those who have already been this year. "We're finally being listened to by leadership" Firstly, as SA officers aren't we the leadership? We're the ones who meet the people and make the changes and share God's love. One question and answer session isn't going to alter that. Secondly, the implication is that we haven't been listen

It's Friday. That day where we write for the pure joy of writing. Then we link up here http://lisajobaker.com/category/five-minute-friday/ Why not join in? Today's prompt is ORDINARY I love ordinary. The everyday. The normal. A bit of routine. Hanging out the washing. Reading a book. A cuddle with my boys Working at the computer. I once heard someone say "Do the ordinary well. And be ready for the critical moment" It was a long time ago. But I remember. It resonated. And now All these years later I know the truth. That with God nothing is ordinary He transforms everything As I watch And wait And look above He changes the ordinary moments into God moments.

"I'm forever blowing bubbles Pretty bubbles in the air" Sing along if you know it. But if you're singing it at Upton Park, The home of West Ham United, You'll have to sing it Very loud, Very deep, And with a London accent. It's the law. Sorry. A few weeks ago a family led a lovely prayer time at our church. They used the idea of bubbles being like our prayers. As the bubble machine brought forth thousands of bubbles They reminded us that our prayers are like bubbles. We can't hold on to them. We need to let them go into God's hands. And when they burst that's like the moment of surrender. I really liked that Especially as through the service we kept seeing stray bubbles Floating around as if from no-where. Stray prayers... Then at West Ham in the following week There were lots of bubbles. We were praying hard then too! Last night I thought about a different kind of bubble One that I place around myself in difficult s

Today I'm over at She Loves Magazine. I love traveling. I love planning what I’m going to take, and which case I’m going to pack it in. I don’t like to show off, but I’m an expert packer. Five of us go on holiday for a fortnight with one bag of hand-luggage each. If you roll things really tightly you’ll be amazed how much you can cram in. To continue reading, click on the link http://shelovesmagazine.com/2013/light/

It's Friday. The day we link up at Lisa-Jo's place. Today's prompt is SHE. She used to be a dancer That girl over there. Not ballet or tap But in worship. She never knew she could until someone saw potential And asked the question And the rest As they say is history. She loved the way it made her feel Stretchy Bendy Worshipful Alive Free And when she danced She danced for the Father Who knew her Saw her Loved her She danced alone In small groups On small stages And once at a top London venue But still for Him Always for Him She never hung up her dancing shoes because she never had any. But it all stopped after a while New roles and new responsibilities took their place. And now that dancer is wrapped in layers Of motherhood And chocolate And life. She used to be a dancer That girl in the mirror. She dances rarely now. But when she does she smiles And laughs And sings along. And catches a glimpse of a future day When th

A plastic measuring jug made me cry today. You know how cheap and nasty they can be. Actually it wasn't the jug's fault, More a combination of straws and camels. The day started at Frankie & Benny's. I love a breakfast meeting All that list making over eggs and bacon. This one was with Ryan and Chris. Our last free day together before Ryan goes to Uni. Lots to accomplish; And the realisation for me that my first-born Is really and truly flying the nest. I left them in PC World buying a laptop And went on to Sainsburys to do the food shop. I can never resist a wander round their home dept And it was there I found a fleece throw. That's its official title. In reality I thought it could go on his bed at uni. In case he gets chilly, officially. In my mind it's soft and warm and comforting In case he's a bit homesick. And as I rested it against my face I was instantly transported to 1994 And my precious boy was snuggled up in his blanket

Your life brought new life to mine. From the first moment That blue line shouted I'm here! Squirming Wriggling Growing in secret. You heard my heartbeat loud and strong. And when I heard your answering one I breathed Relief Assurance Hope. I never understood What being Mum to you would mean. That in caring for you I would learn to love Deeper Harder Stronger. How in loving you I would become more of myself. Thank you for helping me learn the craft of motherhood. For the laughter Fun Questions Anger Fear Tears that you bring. And for the love Deep, deep love. As you set off on your new adventures Know how proud I am of you How amazed I am that you are mine That in loving you, I grow closer to God himself. Hold your head high as a child of God. Live Learn Laugh Love Be who you are Precious and dearly loved.

My name's Karen and I'm afraid of September. It's not an irrational thing. September has form. This month has often been disastrous for my family. Depression Illness Frustration Overwork And last year, dealing with the sudden death of my father Mean that when I think about the coming month I feel anxious Overwrought Afraid. And this Sept has lots of possibilities for fear As between the five of us Two of us are settling into new jobs One leaves home to go to Uni One goes to college And one goes to a new school. So you see? I have every reason to be afraid. And already the anxiety has started And tears come too readily And I want to lock us all away And keep us safe. I read a blog about Isaiah 51:12 today "I, I'm the one comforting you. What are you afraid of, or who?.... You've forgotten me, God who made you." (MSG) And while it's not completely true for me, It is partly. I haven't forgotten God But maybe I'

Last year On this day We lost my Dad. Suddenly His heart failed And he was gone. Today feels strange. I have tried to be normal. But inside I feel numb. Alone. Walking around like a zombie. Struggling to answer straightforward questions. Mind anywhere but where it's supposed to be. It won't last. I know this. But today is a day of intense emotion Vivid memories And the painful reality that Dad is no more. But his love His voice that I can still hear in my head His smile His laugh His big bear hugs Every good memory I have of him These are the things that will last. "Weeping may endure (last) for a night... Joy comes in the morning."

So.... This is a bit of a tricky one. I don't want to offend anyone, But in the interests of honesty And my desire to be real I feel I need to write. You see I can be quite good at bearing a grudge. I feel resentment quite easily. Jealousy rears it's ugly head too often in my life. And over the past few weeks I've returned again and again to people I thought were my friends, but have hurt me. You see I'm a nurturer. My maternal instinct takes over and I want to fix people. And that's what happens over and over. I open our home Our family life And our ministry to people that don't have the kind of support network I do. Maybe it's a form of gratitude? A kind of 'freely you have received...freely give?' And I always thought that was ok. It's who we are. It's what we do. If I was trying to impress, I called it incarnational ministry. But the problem is that people move on. Perhaps they don't need us in quite the

It's Friday. The day we write for the love of writing. 5 minutes. Today's prompt is 'Broken' GO I heard the smash from the next room. It couldn't be helped, the cupboard is too full of mugs All stacked higgledy-pigggledy. So a fall is inevitable. Unless your reflexes are really good. And your catching better. I breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't a 'special' one. There are anniversary ones Valentine's day ones Mummy ones All in there with the ordinary ones. But it wouldn't be the end of the world would it? It's just ' stuff'. And mugs can be replaced. And things can be glued back together. And God? He holds all the pieces of my brokenness In his outstretched Scarred Worn Tender Gentle hands. He puts me back together over and over again. And through my brokenness His light shines more brightly.

Those that read yesterday's blog know my dilemma. And today has been weird. A kind of who am I? Whose am I? Who is mine? And tomorrow I run. 5k as a novice. I'll get a medal for the first time in my life. And that feels strange too. And my boy-man The thoughtful one who oozes kindness from every pore Comes and hugs me And holds me And says nothing There are no words. "And the real mystery of grace is that it always arrives in time. Like the wind, grace finds us wherever we are And won't leave us however we were found." (Ann Voskamp) Grace. Just grace.

Five Minute Friday Belong Today I'm not sure where I belong. Yesterday I was the leader of a church. Next Thurs I'm joining the leadership team at a different church. Today I'm nowhere Of no fixed abode A lady of leisure A shepherd without her sheep. The truth is I know exactly where I belong. Mum to my boys Wife to my man. Shepherds don't lose their sheep over night. It's going to take some readjustment. Daughter of the King. Holy. Dearly loved. Precious Honoured That's who God says I am. In His arms is where I belong.

So here it is. In about 48hrs from now we'll have had our final Sunday as The Salvation Army officers in Caterham. Truth be told, I'm dreading it. I have been all week. To put some perspective on it I'm the child of Salvation Army Officers. When I was young we moved home and church every 2 or 3 years. The place I regard as my home church was only mine for seven years. And we've been here for 11. Not long by some people's standards But by mine... That's almost a quarter of my life as leaders of this church. 11 years of living laughing loving leading praying playing being fully present in this place. And if I'm honest I spent a few hours on Tuesday in deep distress. It was only later that I realised this was like another bereavement to me. Another loss Another change. Wednesday dawned brighter. I went to an exercise class. And received the call that Nathan had injured himself yet again. I knew it probably meant yet another trip to

I wore red lipstick today. I know! Apparently red lipstick suits everyone. And we reserved types aren't bold enough with our lipstick. I read it in a magazine. In an article about women in their forties Under the heading "Don't tell me I can't...." It's meant to be empowering. And give us confidence. I usually wear a kind of browny, bronzey colour. Sometimes with a bit of pink gloss added for special occasions. You have to remember I was brought up in The Salvation Army. And in the old days we weren't allowed to wear make-up with our uniform. So of course we didn't... Actually it was a good lesson in how to apply make-up so it looks natural Anyway Back to the red lipstick. I wore it out for coffee with a friend. But when I re-touched it just before Joel's prom photos I wiped it off again. I like my brown lipstick. I like the idea of red... But maybe I need something in between. And the article in the magazine got m

Five Minute Friday. Set the timer for five minutes and write. This week's prompt is RHYTHM GO 'And the banner man, held the banner high With a 'Hallelujah' in his eyes And I wish that I could be a Banner Man.' If you can sing along to those words, chances are you'll now be singing them all day. Sorry! My Dad used to play it on his record player. I can still smell the vinyl The slight crackle as the needle finds the groove, And see him patting his leg in time to the music. It's a habit he's passed on to me. I can't hear a piece of music without Tapping my foot Or nodding my head Or patting my leg Or dancing if I'm really lucky. I'm so grateful to my parents for teaching me about the rhythm of life. And I don't just mean musically. My musical tastes are not my Dad's. (Thank the Lord for that) But somehow they taught me that the beat goes on. And I am part of that rhythm. The tempo can change Th

We took Dad's ashes to be interred on Tuesday. His final resting place is All Saints Church in a little village called Sandford. The village held so many memories as we passed through it Granny and Grandad's bungalow The garden equipment shop that used to be a garage we went to for sweets and comics. The Post Office cum Village Shop that sells EVERYTHING. The Village Hall where we used to go to 'Mothers' Union' with granny. Mum, my brother and I were the star turn one week. We sang, we played our brass instruments, I even played the tambourine! (The women must have been very forgiving.... Either that or it wasn't actually tea they were drinking...) It was also the place where we celebrated my Grandad's 80th and 90th birthdays. We passed the park we were allowed to walk to as we got older to play on the swings. If I listened carefully I could hear the laughter of children the tinkle of glasses the bikes screeching to a halt my bro

On Fridays there are a group of us who write just for the joy of writing. No editing. Just write. This week's prompt is Fall GO You know when something just doesn't feel right? When you put your faith in something or someone but you feel you're not being heard? There must be more than this? All these months and years of trusting, and obedience, and this is it? Really? You know when it feels like maybe you're being set up for a fall? I'm sure that's not the case but it makes no sense. Well that was me. I thought I prayed I questioned I shouted I cried And God said (Again through a friend) "Whatever happens. I won't let you fall." And He hasn't. (To be continued....)

I hadn't realised it myself. I'm not very good with dates, and years, and anniversaries. But yesterday my Facebook Timeline was full of it. It's 20 years since we were commissioned and ordained. 28th May 1993 at The Royal Albert Hall, London. As I listened to 'Our Songs' The ones written for us, and for the occasion I became a bit nostalgic. As I looked at the video And saw my friends and colleagues I almost felt a pang of grief For the people we were The things we shared. But this is a letter to the 25 yr old girl I was then From the woman I am now "You made it! By the skin of your teeth at times but you got there in the end. And this ending Full of brass, and drums, and singing and laughter and drama and dance is just the beginning. In the years ahead you will know joy Real joy Laughing so hard no sound comes out. Friendships that are only in their infancy here Will become your anchor in the days ahead. And people that

Five Minute Friday. Write for 5 minutes, just for the pure love of it. No editing. Just write. Today's prompt is View GO Nathan is getting really good on the trampoline. Front drops Back drops Somersaults Forward ones anyway. The backwards ones are a different matter. After falling off the trampoline the other day in the attempt, he's been a bit nervous. Yesterday I stood at the edge of the trampoline. Watching him closely as he tried. He improved but he wasn't quite there. As he came close to the edge I opened my arms. He saw me Came towards me And gave me a kiss. I'd opened my arms to catch him quicker. He'd come for a kiss because he loved me. I spend too much time messing about Doing my thing Facing danger at times Knowing God is on the sidelines waiting to catch when I fall. Instead I should be running into the arms of Jesus. In that place I am Loved Secure Safe. Knowing who I am I can go out into the world

The pebbles filled the beach As far as my eyes could see. Different shapes and colours and sizes. Ever since the children were small they've brought them to me. Some I keep, and some I leave behind. But look closely around our house and you'll see them.  Nathan brought me the pink one from a school trip. The small, beautiful smooth ones are broken bits from a bigger shell. Interesting....  Stones speak to me of Reality Truth Certainties. There's something about the fact that they've been Weathered Shaped Formed over millions of years that connects with my soul. There aren't many certainties in life but stones represent a steadfastness. A faithfulness. Recently I've started decorating them. I told a friend I was looking for stones to put scripture verses on, so he proceeded to try and lift a massive rock "That's for Psalm 119..." Scripture for me provides comfort And solace And strength. S

It's our Silver Wedding Anniversary on Tuesday. 25 years. I told someone the other day and she gasped, and said, "You don't look old enough" Which is absolutely the right response. We're having a few friends over next Friday night to celebrate. There will be food And dancing And fun And song. 'Our song' to be precise. As we met in the 80's, Our song is 'Solid' (Ashford and Simpson). It's the song we used to dance to at parties. It's the song that made us laugh. It's the song we always talk about when reminiscing. Our 25 years together hasn't been perfect You won't be surprised to hear that. There has been much joyful song. But sometimes the notes have turned dischordant. Sometimes we've sung in a minor key. More recently we have sung songs of lament. But to mis-quote Gloria Gaynor We have survived. We're still standing (Elton John) And we're still singing from the same hymn

Comfort. Even the word is somehow.... Comforting. I envision soft blankets A cushion or two Or six or seven. The sound of waves pounding on the beach... A river... or at the very least a stream. Family, or very close friends. At least one little one who doesn't mind snuggling up. My boys don't mind at home But draw the line in public. Back to the little one Who cuddles in close Tight hold Cheek to cheek as I breathe in their scent. The sun Present, but not too fierce. Warming, but not stifling. Music Familiar but not overwhelming. What have I forgotten? My very old calendar has this verse for my birthday. (Yesterday) I read it today and smiled. The Lord will guide you always; He will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land And will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, Like a spring whose waters never fail. Isaiah 58:11 Comfort. Oh and don't forget the chocolate!

I don't know if I should admit to liking Alan Carr 'Chatty Man' He's a bit near the knuckle at times, but is also very funny and has great guests. He makes me smile as he comes down the stairs at the start of the show and says "What a week it's been!" That's a bit how I feel at the moment. "What's new?" I hear you cry.... The last few weeks have been quite eventful with Revision (Not me, Joel) Illness Running (Yes me. I know!) Important, exciting but confidential news. Sleeplessness (Not me, Ryan) Friends Barbecues Scoring goals (Not me, Nathan) Sunshine Dodgy knees (Me again.) Hail Wind and Rain New things Old things revisited Teeth knocked out, again (Not me, Joel) And so it goes on... In the middle of it I had a bout of labyrinthitis. It's nothing to do with David Bowie, But everything to do with your inner ear. So if I turned over in bed, Or turned my head too quickly, Or at a certain angle, My

Five minute Friday. Write. Don't check, or edit, just write for the pure love of it. The prompt is FRIEND I had a card from a friend today. We started as colleagues. Our paths crossed a few times. But over the past year she has become a friend. And as a friend She knew what this weekend meant for us. She remembered. She acted. But friends are all different aren't they? Over the past 12 months our friends have been: Some practical Some ever-present Some prayerful Some encouraging Some business as usual Some helpless Some distant And sadly, some very noticeable by their absence. I don't blame them It's not been easy to be our friend this year. But I thank God for all of them And pray that the absent ones are not gone forever. I'm also challenged. "If you want a friend, be a friend" The saying goes. I pray my friends will always know where to come. And if not, that I'll meet them where they are. And when I fail as a f

I've just been on the trampoline. It's not great practice for a woman in her mid 40's who has given birth to three children. But I managed to escape without a mishap... Anyway Back to the trampoline. It's 10ft and it dominates our garden. In some ways it's too big. But it offers so many possibilities. Today for instance: Chris has been on it as part of his toning up for summer regime. This is serious stuff. I watched intently... The eldest two boys and a friend spent half an hour on it while I sat close by. And in that time, We laughed they played they chatted we chatted we shared 'stuff' we planned we laughed. A bit later Our youngest worked out some of his angst on it. It's tough being 11. Then he smiled And we laughed I joined him, We chatted. I bounced, He laughed. And there we were. Sharing life Sharing love Around a big bouncy thing in the garden. And I was reminded that all is Grace. It's not ab

Five minute Friday. Write. Don't check, or edit, just write for the pure love of it. The prompt is JUMP GO: I sat reading all the posts. Jump is today's word. My first thought was being 70ft up in Derbyshire. Not so much as a jump as a shuffle. But I was so high up. And I daren't look down. Even to find my foothold.... Just jump. And today I ran. For the first time in years. I've thought about it. Read about it. Talked about it. Procrastinated over it. But today I did it. Just jump.... And my writing? Well that's been a bit quiet if I'm honest. But as I read other people's posts about hop-scotch and puddles... These great writers who seem to see right into my heart and mind And write what they find... I can't write like they can. But they encourage me, Love me, Inspire me... Just jump.... Jump when you don't know how secure the landing is. Jump when you feel afraid. Jump when you're not sure what God is say

It's Marathon season. Every few minutes on any given networking site I see requests with links to justgiving. If I'm honest I'm a little jealous. Not necessarily of the Marathon, But of the decision to do something, Then putting in the work, And then bringing it to a joyful, if exhausted, speechless, conclusion. I feel as if I've hit the famous 'Wall' that marathon runners speak of. My recovery has been good so far. I can chat to people now. I can laugh. I can enjoy family life with Chris and the boys. I can go to unknown places with less fear. I can make arrangements and stick to them. I'm doing more and more in Sunday Worship Kids Stuff.... Songs... Reading Scripture... Praying... Leading Worship and Preaching is stuff that energises me. I've missed it. And this Sunday I've offered to preach. A sermon. A proper one. I know.... But you know, sometimes I still feel the fear. The anxiety. The raised heartbeat. The quiv

I went to a new hairdresser yesterday. To appreciate the full significance of this you'll need to read my previous post here http://karensandford.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/on-going-to-hairdressers.html Actually I'd been there once before. They send me a text periodically with offers. Money is tight and my hair a bit unruly, so I took them up on the offer of 50% off. When I arrived they brought me coffee. In a cafetiere! On a tray! And the piece de resistance? Two of my favourite chocolates. Hannah, the stylist had cut my hair the last time, so when she asked what I wanted, I knew she'd do a good job. As we talked I decided to mix things up a bit. After 30 years with a side parting and a fringe that sweeps across... I now have a centre-parting.... And a full fringe.... In my previous post about my hairdresser I wrote in praise of knowing and being known. But you know sometimes.... Change can be a good thing. Sometimes it's good to do things differe

I really like Nadia Sawalha. For those reading who are not from the UK she's an actress/TV presenter/cook. Maybe that's one of the reasons I like her. She seems approachable somehow. You know the kind of person you think you'd like as a friend? Plus she's got a very dirty laugh Which is something I really admire in a person! Anyway, this post isn't just a tribute to her But to a book she's just released. The title grabbed me from the start "GREEDY GIRL'S DIET" This is talking my kind of language... In her first chapter, she talks about the starve, binge, starve, binge phases that have formed most of her adult life. And one day she decided she had had enough.... No more quick fixes.... From now on she was going to cook, and eat delicious food that would nourish her body. She writes about her own body. And she could have written about mine. My body is an amazing piece of machinery. It has carried and borne four children. It cr

They say you learn something new every day. I was about to blog about the 'Do It Anyway' Poem.   P eople are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.   Forgive them anyway. I f you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.   Be kind anyway. I f you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies.  Succeed anyway. I f you are honest and sincere people may deceive you.  Be honest and sincere anyway. W hat you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.  Create anyway. I f you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous.  Be happy anyway. T he good you do today, will often be forgotten.  Do good anyway. G ive the best you have, and it will never be enough.  Give your best anyway. I n the final analysis, it is between you and God.  It was never between you and them anyway. ____________________________ And I was going to attribute it to Mother Teresa She

I love the way God works. Take today for instance. I've been tired Anxious Well fed Overwhelmed Shopping Tired Frustrated Teaching piano Tired Angry Jealous Prayed for And did I mention tired? So I escape up to bed. And I write all the questions I have in my journal. There are some biggies It's been that sort of day. And as I transfer the thoughts whirling around my head onto the page I start to breathe again And I note some scripture about peace. I read the verse that just happened to be on today's calendar. About seeing things as in a glass darkly. Then I look at the blogs that have come through to my inbox today. And guess what they're about? Peace in the storm. Trusting those in authority (interesting, that one...!) Bringing my broken pieces to the God who has promised to put them back together. And finally Jehovah-Jireh The God who provides But who often feels like a last-minute God A bit like that ebay app that posts your

Today is the kind of day that you imagine a perfect English Winter day to be. Crisp Clear A beautiful blue sky And sunshine  View from my window this morning  On days like today I feel like I could do anything. I feel bright Happy Capable Confident Take me to Black Rock in Derbyshire and I'd absail down it all over again.  My 'absolutely terrified' face  I wish they could bottle days like to day. Or at least the kind of feelings they bring. Perhaps they have. But that would take me down a different road altogether. As I was driving to see my mentor this morning I thought of the question I'd heard at big Christian Gatherings; "What would you attempt for God if you knew you couldn't fail?" The thing that came to mind for me was Preach. It's the next step for me after a year out of the pulpit. It's my biggy. It's also one of the things I love most about Christian leadership a

Just a little post tonight. Do you ever feel judged? Misunderstood? Lacking somehow? As if no matter what you do it's never enough? Me too. You know God NEVER sees us that way. Grace says we are enough because He is. Don't let the enemy steal our joy.

We've been away for a few days. We stayed in a lovely hotel. We stay there quite a lot as a family member works there. And the best thing about staying in a hotel? Free stuff! I love it all! The teeny bottles of toiletries that probably belong in the value aisle. The pen, the tea and coffee, the biscuits and the slippers... And of course the buffet breakfast. You know, the one where you tell the children to eat as much as they possibly can as you're not buying lunch. In line with my 40 days of feasting I decided I would enjoy what was offered, but not stockpile stuff so they'd replace it... Or is that just me? So it's been a lovely few days. This hotel also has a Leisure Club. Every day the boys wanted to go down and make the most of the facilities. Now I love swimming. In the old days (before children), I used to swim three times a week. But now it often feels like too much effort. And the whole getting wet business.... On one of the days I se

I don't cry at films. Ever. I told someone rather smugly once that "I saved my tears for real life." Big mistake. She'd been referring to 'Titanic'. She then told everyone that I only had compassion for things that affected me.... Lesson learned. So anyway I've seen Les Mis three times. The first time was with two close friends. One blubbed, the other didn't (and she's a real cryer). Nothing from yours truly. The second time was with Mum and my hubby. Mum started crying at 'Empty chairs at empty tables' It was only to be expected as she lives with Dad's empty chair every day. I held her hand. I got goosebumps at the end. But no tears. The third time was today. Chris and I went again. It was kind of a test I suppose. I'd decided to blog about not crying at Les Mis anyway. I smiled to myself when Corsette sang about her castle on a cloud where tears were not allowed. I had song lyrics like 'All cried out&