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On choosing to forgive.

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 ...

Five Minute Friday: Broken

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.

And grace?

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

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.

A bit of Eschatology

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...

Five Minute Friday: In Between

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: Rhythm

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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...