Earth is crammed with heaven

I don't like Glenn Hoddle. Every time I see him on TV, which in our house is quite often, I say something derogatory. ' Why is he even on there? He was sacked as England manager.' Is my usual response to his punditry. Definition alert: Punditry is a technical term meaning a person, usually a man, who can talk incessantly about football. That's most men, as far as I can tell. On Saturday I was thinking about injustice. I'd taken a photo of the tills in Tesco, ready for my Lent photo challenge. But when I got home I took this photo. Warning: Photo also contains Michael Owen. I quite like him. Though he has an annoying voice. Not as annoying as Jamie Carragher. What happened to commentators having nice voices? #someonehelpme Here's the photo: Now I have my reasons for not liking Glenn Hoddle. He was sacked as England manager in 1999 for making a silly remark about disabled people. At the time we were leaders of...

Today is #TimetoTalk Day. The day designated to get people talking about 'mental illness.' As I type I realise that people often focus on the word 'mental', and don't get as far as the world 'illness'. And that's half the problem. I have an illness . A mental health illness. I don't have mental health 'issues' . I'm not 'mental.' I have an illness. An illness that doesn't necessarily make me sad, though sometimes it does. The symptoms I get make me feel empty, exhausted, anxious, unable to hold a conversation. and I get marshmallow-brain, or brain fog. Sometimes I struggle to put one foot in front of the other. Sometimes I'm irritable and snappy. Sometimes I can't sleep for night after night, and sometimes I can do it with my eyes shut.... Sometimes I'm tearful. Sometimes I can hold it all together to work, chat, socialise, laugh, do what's required, and you'd never know ...

Today is Candlemas. The day that remembers Mary & Joseph presenting Jesus in the Temple. They met Simeon & Anna; Both prophets. Both faithful. Both very, very old. God had given them a promise, it would seem. And it was many, many years before they saw Jesus, the promised One. Many, many winters. Long. Lonely. Maybe they had thought 'Is this the one?' Only to have their hopes dashed Over and over again. And you know I can relate. Maybe you can too? I live with an illness that varies in intensity, but never completely subsides. And with every prayer that is prayed for me and over me and with me, my hope rises. Now Lord? Is it now? Has healing come? And it would seem the answer is invariably, No. The last seven days have been difficult. I sensed 'an episode' on it's way. This time I didn't fight it so hard. I took some time. Cancelled some stuff. Watched some films. Slept a bit. Then slept some more, And worked when...