Another world possible and on her way

“Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. Maybe many of us won’t be here to greet her, but on a quiet day, if I listen very carefully, I can hear her breathing.” Arundhati Roy. 

The 2025 National Transgender, Intersex, Non-binary Theology Conference at Luther King House - what a conference! Abundant, grace-filled generosity on how to be love, how to respond with love to those who struggle to love everyone. It was not a quiet couple of days (tho well-being had been thoughtfully considered so quiet could be found by those wanting it) but I definitely could hear the breath of another, better, world on the way.

With the conference title and theme being “I have a dream”, the focus was very much on trans joy. However given the state of the world there was of course also lamenting and vulnerability in sharing pain. The cost, and sacrifice, in trying to love when met with hate, was palpable. Dreams might start small when actually what is wanted and needed is access to health care, safety and feeling able to express identity. 

Speaker after speaker showed what it might mean to be open and curious as to what and who God is calling us to be.

For me it felt like a mini greenbelt, a place of hope  - possibilities that we can co-create a kin-dom where we all get to be fully ourselves as we delight in recognising God in each other.

Being trans is not how I define myself and yet I rile against the way society is quick to box us off, such an emphasis on binaries, when I can glimpse how much brighter the world is/would be without that.

What would it mean if I more frequently allowed myself to be open to God, open to change? If say on a bus journey, or in a conversation in the supermarket, or watching a TV programme, I was curious about what might be revealed about myself, or another human or creature, or about God? With that wonder of a child that many of us lose.

I have come away feeling like my heart, my mind, my whole self has been opened that bit more. It’s how I feel after Greenbelt, or NCBI events, or a good church service. What if we could offer that to everyone? That’s my dream!

Today’s testimony

 I personally think our story changes all the time, so this is what I shared at church today, but next week I might say something totally different! 

Have you ever felt a feeling where you know you need to speak up and say something even though it’s not going to be popular? For me it starts in my chest and I can feel my heart get faster. I know that whether I like it or not, something needs to be pointed out. It happened to me the other day in a meeting where it looked as if lots of folk were in agreement about something, but I could see there was an angle that hadn’t been mentioned, an unfairness that God was nudging me to encourage everyone to pay attention to. 

Inspired by love and anger is a Wild Goose hymn by John Bell, (link below) and sums up what I’d like to share today - part of my story and my song.

I am inspired by Love - God’s love is what I cling to when I doubt if I’m good enough. There’s another song, a Celtic prayer, with the line “may God hold you in the hollow of God’s hand” and for me when things have been tough in my life I imagine myself curled up safe in Her huge hands.

I want all my actions to be inspired by love. Another song popped into my head from Mike Scott and the Waterboys with its line “what do you want me to do Lord” and so that’s what I am always asking, what is it God that I can do right now that would be the most loving response. 

God’s love means I know every single one of us is made in God’s image so how wonderfully diverse God is and we are. And that we’re all totally through and through loveable and called to love each other. God’s unconditional love is what appealed to me when I first started going regularly to church at 15 years old - encouraged by a geography teacher (she’s a Methodist too), and it’s what appeals to me still.

I am also inspired by Anger - the first verse goes: Inspired by love and anger, disturbed by need and pain,

Informed of God's own bias, we ask our God again:
"How long must some folk suffer? How long can few folk mind?
How long dare vain self-interest turn prayer and pity blind?"

Some of us might have been raised to think anger is a bad thing. But I think God wants us to get angry about injustice, and to speak up and challenge it. Whether that’s injustice caused by our greed, by racism or homophobia, by people taking more than their fair share of power, or because of the impact of climate change.

In another verse we sing “God asks who will go for me “

So I think that’s me. And it’s you. 

“And who when few bid welcome will offer all they know”. I believe God wants me to challenge the status quo, disturb where we are comfortable in our privilege, even if that challenge is not always welcome. 

Our minister Michaela has asked us all to reflect on how we see God calling us to the new. So the love and anger have long, and hopefully will long, inspired me. New to me now is the role of our circuit EDI officer, offering many ways for me and us all to show our love in action by ensuring our churches and groups and worship are as accessible and inclusive as possible. And maybe irritating a few folk along the way as I encourage us all to look at what we might need to change or give up in order to make that happen. 

we then sang the song together - here it is:

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=R_vQI6XzY2o&source_ve_path=NzY3NTg&embeds_referring_euri=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.com%2F

 

Superiority complex

I am hoping to have some conversations to discuss who wrote the bit in the Bible that claims God gave us humans dominion over other creatures? That was quite convenient for them to decide that’s what God thought. Did God simultaneously tell other creatures the same? Or does God only reveal Godself to humans? It seems to me that as a species we’ve declared ourselves overly important and use it to justify the suppression of other life, rather than realise we’re an integral part. 

The other day I was cycling past a group of hunters and their dogs and really had to bite back the urge to shout rude things at them. I know it’s not the way things change so I’m glad I wasn’t rude but it did get me thinking. I find it so hard to understand how people can kill creatures for sport and eventually concluded that it’s just a different mindset. For me a fox’s life is sacred but others don’t see it that way and it doesn’t mean I’m right and they’re wrong. Especially as my understanding of life and what is sacred has its own limits. 

I’m taking my time reading ‘The hidden life of trees’ and that’s definitely giving me much to muse upon. I’ve learned that there are more life forms in a handful of forest soil than there are people on the planet. Where is my righteous anger over that life? I also noticed a sense of relief when finding out that research tends to say that plants don’t have feelings as we understand them, even tho Peter Wohlleben the author suggests they might. I was wondering what I was going to do about eating, and what it means for my failed growing attempts. It does have me think about being more grateful for the life of the food that sustains me. I once learned that if ever I had to remove part of a tree I could apologise to it, and I practice this. I have however fallen out of the habit of giving thanks for my food, and when I do, I focus on those who have grown transported and cooked it. 

So as is often the case, it comes down to how we love - relationship and respect. I am reminded of the importance of gratitude, as well as humbly remembering that my perspective is just one of many, many, many. And today especially I’m aware that it is a human one and other non-human perspectives exist too. 

Interconnected butterflies

 From day one we realise that our surviving and thriving depends on those we’re in connection with. We understand that our relationships matter, we are dependent on those who are able to care, to take care of us when we can’t take care of ourselves. 

So then what happens? Defiant toddlers asserting their independence usually then move into understanding the importance of sharing as we learn that coexistence is essential. Yet those of us growing up in a capitalist society are encouraged to believe we’re in competition with each other. Patriarchy, racism, classism and other insidious factors can lead us to think some humans are worth more than others (literally in terms of pay, but also in terms of opportunities, and in a sense of who is seen as expendable). Some of us lose sight of that truth that our lives are interwoven and start to imagine that the consequences of our choices are irrelevant to anyone but themselves. 

How do we end that disconnection? What will have the isolated remember? Literally re-member, return as a member of an interconnected human race. Every nano second we’re living out and experiencing the butterfly effect and every choice we make is not just on behalf of ourselves but on everyone else. I appreciate that might seem a weighty responsibility - tho maybe only if you think you’re facing it alone rather than comprehend how actually because we’re all in this life together we can support each other.

In a world where we have people who think it’s ok to have lots whilst others have nothing, including politicians being paid thousands (£276,130) for a single speech or wearing ludicrously expensive clothing  whilst those impacted by policies they invoked are struggling to eat, I’m wrestling with what we need to change. How do we break through the barriers of entitlement so that those hording more than they need realise that what is in their bank is meaningless if the people they share oxygen with are unable to have even a basic existence? And that the same oxygen, water, soil etc sustains us all. How do each of us reclaim our knowledge that we all need each other?

Making Herstory every day

I have been busy today, being a part of history. Just like every day! Each time we send a kind text, or a mean text, we are making history. Every time we buy a fairtrade item, or something cheap, we are part of something that shifts history. 

Now, as to what will be recorded and repeated as history, that’s a different matter. There’s a clue in the word. There are many women in the Bible who are not  named, and indeed it’s very telling who it is we are told about and why. Certainly the history I was taught in school venerated a privileged few, and I learned a white colonial version that only reflects a tiny perspective of reality.

I have been intrigued by the comments I have heard on the media from people who have flocked to London to join a very long queue in order to walk past a coffin, or watch a funeral procession. There’s been much talk of “wanting to be part of history.” And I wonder what has us so cut off from our sense of the impact each of us has on history every moment? So a decision made to buy flowers wrapped in plastic is as much a part of history making as a decision to donate to flood relief. Everything we do will ultimately become part of history for someone. 

I think there are some great questions to be asked as to why we focus on some people’s stories and not others. Why our news is dominated by certain issues and concerns and others are overlooked. What does that say about who we care about? 

My own understanding of my faith is that every creature - every human being, every sparrow - matters equally to God. To me it’s important that I reflect that in how I myself show love and concern. And so I’m going to keep asking the questions even tho I know for some it’s not comfortable. 

It’s not easy being green

 Turns out it’s not without issues, trying to plan a wedding with minimal impact on the environment. The culture of capitalism, with its insistence on subjugation of both people and planet, is hard to step out of. 

Some aspects have been thankfully simple. A walk around the graveyard opposite where we live resulted in a huge collection of fir cones, so that was the bulk of the table decorations sorted. 

I would have preferred to source on my high street  some of the other things that on reflection (and there’s been a lot of reflection) would be needed. As we’ll be eating some of the food (especially the cake!) with fingers, we concluded we would need serviettes. Whilst we’ve hired glassware, hiring linen napkins was out of budget so the next best was compostable ones made from recycled paper. We have more than one shop on my high street selling party stuff, so I checked them all. Whilst it’s possible to buy no end of plastic encased paraphernalia, and balloons and other straight-to-landfill items, not a single recycled paper napkin option. Given the scale of the climate emergency, it shouldn’t be impossible to buy recycled products in our towns. It shouldn’t be a niche product only purchasable on the internet (that brings it’s own environmental consequences).

And so, like a lot of ethical decisions, there have been elements of compromise. I concluded that with not many days to go, it made more sense to ask a friend to bring a bag of ice rather than try and make enough and put into a reusable bag. I’m really hoping this will be the only single-use plastic to be seen in the whole of the day. But of course, in orchestrating a community participative event, people will participate on their own terms. And whilst it’s important to me that we tread lightly rather than assume we can treat the earth as a resource to be plundered, I have to remember that we’re all different and for some people, their priorities will not be the same. 

It may well be our wedding, and some will respect our wishes, but some may well be oblivious. The challenge for me is to try and stay loving towards those whose views differ. If I’m longing for people to grasp why this is important to me, surely part of the solution is for me to be understanding of what is important to other people. My hope is that I will be able to welcome with gratitude, rather than exasperation, those accompanied by cling film. Right now I honestly don’t know if I can be the open-hearted person I would like to be. But I’ll keep aiming for it.

Long live the belief in equality!

 From the moment we are born (and way before that as history impacts) we are surrounded by a culture that affects how we see ourselves and others. One of the issues of being born under a monarchy is that from the get-go I have been in a society that believes that some people are more important than others. A certain family, simply through who their parents were, are deemed to rule over me and I am supposed to be subject to them. 

Added to this is a capitalist structure that operates on the assumption that our worth is defined by our productivity. That some people will own the means of production and are encouraged to make profit from that, whilst others will toil and still struggle. This will be accepted as a natural order of things. 

Furthermore there is then this weird lauding of celebrity. Trials/marriages/divorces/clothes etc etc of people who are “famous” will be deemed newsworthy, whilst the experiences of those of us not deemed famous will not. 

I discovered a phrase for this the other day. It is seen as referential power. And I JUST DON’T GET IT. Why would we see someone as more significant than someone else just because of the family they were born into or if they can play football? Maybe this is because in addition to all these cultural messages I’ve been exposed to, I have also been interested in a faith message that says that every single one of us is special. Wonderfully made. Unique. And that there is no person who is any more, or any less important than anyone else. My faith also teaches me that we all need each other. There’s an image given as to how we’re all connected like a body. So just like we can’t all be hearts or ears, we also can’t all be footballers or nurses. We all need each other to use our talents whatever they are. Or to simply be, as it’s not always about the doing (contrary to what a capitalist, ableist society says).

 Instead of privileging some over others, what would our world look like if we celebrated each one for who we are, rather than just celebrate some? What if the birth of every baby was treated with equal airtime? What if there was a 4 day holiday to mark anyone’s 70 years of giving of themselves to others? What if every child as they grew up knew that they were just as important as every other child anywhere in the world, and were no more or no less deserving of attention and respect? That’s the kind of world I’m working towards. 

Bye-bye booby, booby bye-bye

And so a significant chapter comes to an end. 21 years ago I started learning a little about breastfeeding in readiness for becoming a mum. Like lots of new parents, I then found it wasn’t as simple as I’d imagined and was very grateful for some support I received over the phone. That same Breastfeeding Network supporter went on to train me 3 years later to be able to support other new parents. I couldn’t tell you how many, but in 17 years we’re talking many hundreds. 

There is the National Breastfeeding Helpline, where as a volunteer I’d log on whenever I could. Not as often as I’d have liked sometimes, but it has included some Christmas Day calls, some that I’ve caught just before the line shut at 9.30pm, and many where I really felt I made a difference. The last few years we’ve been counting calls, so it’s 373 of those, with who knows how many before. 

My local group moved location a couple of times in those two decades. I made some amazing connections there with other volunteers and with regular attendees, as well as those who just wanted us once. 

I also was grateful to find paid work through the organisation. Several part time roles, in two different local projects, plus coordinating volunteers on the national helpline. Working on a maternity unit; hanging out at antenatal clinics; visiting new mums in their homes at such an important time in their lives; such a privilege to be alongside so many people at such a special but often challenging time. When the projects came to an end, I continued to supervise locally. Many, many friends made along the way. 

And so it’s a big chapter to be turning the page on. I am currently needed elsewhere and so to find the headspace for that, am saying goodbye to this. Maybe it’s not the end. Sometimes in a story a theme comes back in a different way in a new chapter. But I’m leaving the organisation I’ve known nearly half my life (3 years out) so wanted to mark it well :)

Reflexivity

 I’ve long used writing as a means of processing. Under my bed is a stash of diaries in which I journaled all kinds of thoughts as a teenager, filling an entire page each night with my insecurities as well as how many choc ices I’d consumed that day. Some days I would write words in two different pens to produce a beautiful two-tone image, delighting in my creativity that I was clear was for my eyes only. I stopped when at aged 18 I was in a shared house and someone took the diary to read, and so pouring my heart out onto paper no longer felt safe.

Fast forward a couple of decades and instead of pens and paper and pseudo-privacy, there is an option to press a publish button and unleash your contemplations on the wide world. And so I started a blog. 

Ten years ago today I was in some ways in a good place despite still grieving the end of my marriage. I’d recently met Ben for the first time, tho we’d yet to start going out. I had supportive friends. I enjoyed my three very part time jobs. But still I noticed an absence of adult company, as a single parent of two children aged 6 and 9. It’s interesting to look at the varying frequency of my entries, starting fairly intermittently, then reaching a couple of years where I blogged sometimes twice a day. Now that I have lots of interaction with adults (my offspring included) there’s much less need for a space to craft and share opinions. There are still occasions where I want an outlet to express something longer than can be posted in a Facebook status, but these are now few and far between. 

A few remain as drafts, from times where I’ve needed to vent but realised that to share publicly would not be wise. Those that are published vary from tedious renditions of dull days, to upbeat messages that I feel proud of having written. Like the teenage diaries, I’m pleased to have preserved some thoughts that no doubt my memory would otherwise have let slip away. Some have caused contention but mainly they have had minimal impact on the world, a very small audience and a rare comment - and that’s fine by me. My purpose is not to attract ‘followers’ but to channel some of my thinking in a way that’s productive for me rather than have the words circling in my head. It’s been a good way of letting some friends know how I’m doing and I’m especially grateful for those who check in with me having read what I have shared.
Maybe one day I’ll even shift it from my ancient tablet onto a device where I can easily include photos :)

Unexpected decade

 Ten years ago I was invited to a birthday party where I met someone and talked about God, which didn’t usually happen to me at parties. Usually people I met at events talked to me about breastfeeding once they asked what I did for work. I’ve not been to many parties since I started working for the church so maybe now people would talk about God instead? Anyway back then it was unusual and a delight. I didn’t feel ready to start a new relationship as I was clear I was still grieving the end of my marriage, but Ben understood my need to grieve and yet also enabled me to live and love in the present. I figured that I didn’t have to have confidence in the future, what was important was the present, and ten years of living pretty presently has brought many gifts. I’ve learned a lot about love (and a fair bit about war, given his WW1 passion). I have plumbed surprising depths of commitment, rejoiced in his generosity, eaten well, and had a lot of fun along the way. We’ve been through various losses together - family, work, health - with a lot of learning about ourselves and each other, the class dynamics and how our early experiences still shape our current ways of being. Of course, any relationship has its challenges, that's what happens when you are real with one another. I'm glad to have opportunities to be real with people!

This last year, in lockdown, we've spent a lot of time together in particular, and I've been grateful for that. Its been an unexpected decade with much to celebrate.

Trigger warning - Mary and Eve

 It's been a tough week. I don't know why I'm surprised really. Every week women die at the hands of violent men. (Men also die at the hands of violent men, and occasionally people die due to women's violence. Every death and attack is horrific). Last year there were 62,200 reported rapes in the UK ( happening to women and men, by men). That is a staggeringly high number. For those involved it is their following days and years that will be incredibly tough.

I think the way the week unfolded has made it particularly hard, bookended by days in which women were celebrated (International women's day on Monday, Mothering Sunday today). In between my media pages were filled with varying degrees of sexism (in some cases compounded by racism and transphobia). This included refusal to believe the experiences of a high profile woman; a murder of a woman who was walking home; the anniversary of a woman murdered in her home during a police raid; many many women sharing their experiences of assault, some sharing for the first time and a backlash from many men unable to hear the pain without immediately wanting to point out that not all men are bad. 

Of course not all men are bad. I'm glad to know many good hearted men, those who not only would never attack a woman, but are also doing their best to figure out what they need to do to challenge the sexism, and to do what they can to reduce the intimidation felt. There have been some good allies this week, tho at times they have felt few and far between.

I also understand the pull to defend. Everytime I hear someone say that they were around a Christian who oppressed them, I want to shout "we don't all believe that! I'm not like that!" And I've slowly learned that actually it's not about me. Maybe if I can build a good enough relationship, the person will get to see that I'm not like that. But that will only come if I first sit with my discomfort that someone like me has caused pain. And to hear how upsetting that was. To acknowledge the truth of the person's experience, rather than rush in and diminish what they are trying to express.

As soon as we get defensive, we're not listening so well. It's bloody hard. I've felt defensive a fair bit myself this week. I can see why it's difficult to make progress and to keep at it together instead of get divided off from one another.

And the contrast isn't new either. For centuries there's been the saint/sinner extreme of worshipping the mother of God or blaming everything/the fall on one woman. So to be praised on Monday and trashed by Tuesday should not be unexpected. But it certainly should be challenged.

Friday fix

 Today I am overtired after a really intense working week. I really love the supervision training we were delivering but it's been very full on. I knew I'd need to go gently today.

I am signed up to this blog which every Friday introduces a song through the lens of faith, and I often enjoy it (I've only managed to contribute once, I must get around to writing again). Today's made me laugh out loud, I love the line about top level delegation and can relate to the amazement that God entrusts us to do the loving. And I also cried, as I'm overtired and it's that kind of day.

https://thefridayfix.home.blog/2021/02/19/how-long-will-i-love-you-the-waterboys/

Seeing new things

 Do you ever have a line jump out at you in a book?

Once I had read this, I couldn't carry on reading my book*, I had to ponder it. "We need a new way of seeing more than we need to see new things and places." I probably don't need to explain why this resonated, but in case anyone is reading this post-pandemic (surely such a time will come), let me unpack it a little.

Current regulations mean we can't drive anywhere to exercise, so I'm regularly undertaking my favourite local walk. This could potentially be tedious, I tend to thrive on novelty rather than routine, I'm the kind of person who chooses a different way home from a place rather than stick to the same route. However, an advantage of repeating the same path is that little differences become more noticeable. I celebrated when I spotted the snowdrops peeking through when a few days before they were not to be seen. Last week, when suddenly realising that I was striding as if on a mission to get the walk over with as soon as possible, I slowed down and instantly became aware of the birds who had been singing all along, I just hadn't opened my ears to them.

So whilst I might think I crave a new place, what I have is the option to see anew. Having worked from home for nearly a year now, I've been seeing rather a lot of the same four walls. But lying in the bath after the sentence leapt out, I gazed as if for the first time at the grouting. One of the appeals of being around children is the way they delight in the things we older ones have maybe become jaded around. How great it is to marvel anew at what we take for granted. 

I know lockdown is dragging on. I too am keen to see those I've not been around in such a long time. I even long for the beach and I'm not a beach person. But I also think we can wonder awhile and reopen our eyes to what is right in front of us.

*I'm reading The Call: Discovering why you are here, by Oriah Mountain Dreamer.

That's my fun day

 How are you coping with what is getting close to a year in lockdown? ( I know we had august out and about, but that was pretty much it as the North west rates were then bad so we then were back inside). I've found myself more routinised than I usually live my life. Weekends used to vary, maybe I'd be working or have an action packed social calendar, and once a month I'd be in Dufton. Now we can't even drive for a different walk, I am of course, pretty much always home. Thankfully for me home is a happy place, I know some folk are really struggling. 

Saturday is guinea pig cleaning out day. (Is it wrong that this is one of my least favourite aspects of my girly not being here, along with the hugs... We still have great conversations by video call but I have to do everything for those guineas).

Sunday has downtime for a jigsaw or a film, there's a church coffee social and a District evening service (which I enjoy except for the weeks I'm tech hosting), my weekly chat with my boy as I take him to his dad's, and then before an early night I read something uplifting in a bubbly bath. It's a real joy that sets me up well for the vast amount of screen time in the rest of the week.

What have you found to keep your spirits up? I like to initiate some surprises that will cascade into the week. Postcards / gifts that vary in time to deliver, so I get texts throughout the week from the recipients. (I don't send them in order to get texts you understand, but it's a frequent happy by product). I've communicated with people in other ways this weekend that have been more immediate so will miss that excitement that comes with wondering when someone will get their surprise. But the good news is it's daffodil season, so at my next big shop I'll be buying lots of bunches to then take out on my exercise walks. Sorry if you don't live near enough...

Silver linings

 It has been a rough year. We've lost loved ones, not been able to do things we enjoy, we've had to adapt fast to a new situation. And so of course I have grieved, as I know that is healthy. Yet today, rather than focus on what I've lost, I want to notice some of what I've gained this year.

New relationships: by becoming a phone befriender I've 'met' two people I otherwise never would have.

Deeper relationships: I've been pleased to get to know some friends better as I've connected with some people for whom this year has been tricky. Because I've not seen people in the places I usually would, I've had to intentionally think about who to get in touch with.

New ways of being: I have had to be creative in how I've shown my love given that some of my usual ways have been off limits. Instead of visits and hugs I've made heavy use of royal mail and sent flowers or unexpected little gifts or cards. Its not how I thought things would be when my daughter first left home for example, but we've stayed connected. And during the period that would have been her exams, we had some precious conversations when she instead returned from her shifts at the hospital.

New ways of working: If you'd said how much technology I would need to be using in my role I wouldn't have applied for it as I wouldn't have thought myself capable, and yet I have been. I have learned all kinds of skills and even taught others.

New discoveries: Encouraged to stay local for exercise, I have enjoyed the beach next to where I drop my son off at his dad's. I've bought an OS map and undertaken interesting walks on the way back from dropping him off.

Repeat the sounding joy

 There is definitely joy to be found, tho it is tinged with sadness. Laying aside expectations is hard. It is good, if tricky, to focus on the 'what is' rather than the 'what could have been'. Mainly I am living my life in the way I'd like to live it - there has been joy in finding new ways to be. Yesterday I had a socially distanced walk in a beautiful place that I would never have walked in if it hadn't been for the pandemic rules meaning that's where I had to see my daughter. Each morning in December I've phoned the guy I'm telephone befriender for to open my advent calendar and describe to him what's behind the window. It's a calendar I've reused for several years now. There are definite advantages to losing my once prized memory. Each window offering is a surprise ( tho I'd remembered today's would be a nativity scene). Similarly I'm now able to re-watch films or programmes. In the past I'd be annoyed to watch something I'd already viewed - life was too short! - but now I can enjoy it over again as there's so much I simply cannot recall.

Tonight is set to be clear which is great as maybe tonight I'll glimpse the Christmas star (well the conjunction of Saturn and jupiter) whilst I stand out to sing silent night. When the usual can't happen we can make the unusual happen instead.

New questions!

 I had a surprising conversation earlier in the year in which God was blamed for taking everything away. Now I've since grappled with a Brueggemann book about psalms, and am a believer in the importance of lament, and know that God's shoulders are big enough for whatever we heap on them. So in many ways it is fine to blame God and maybe less damaging than blaming people or understandably easier than owning our own responsibility. But I still don't think that God is the cause of, or requires, our losses.

And so it was with much joy yesterday that I listened to someone much more knowledgeable than I describe 'listening theologically' and pose the question how might we know what is of God? The whole module was great and got me thinking about how our bodies might reflect inner thoughts, and how it's important to listen for the gaps in what people share. What resonated for me about my summer conversation tho was how we might discern if what is revealed sounds like God or not. If we believe that perfect love casts out fear, then is what is being claimed to be of God, speaking of love or fear? Is it offering liberation or bondage? Now of course losses can liberate, and spring from love, so God may well be calling us to let go. I see that differently than God taking from us.

And so I'm excited by new questions instead of my usual "where is God in this?" Or "what might God be saying?":

Where is love at work here?

What might freedom look like?

And I should probably get and read everything I can by Jane Leach whose wisdom I enjoy so much :)

You are/ I am enough

I've oh so nearly finished the Brene Brown book that's been competing for my attention for so long now. Just a few pages to go but each paragraph is so good I'm not managing to finish it as I keep wanting to reflect on what she's saying on shame resilience. The book is entitled 

I thought it was just me (but it isn't): making the journey from " what will people think?" To " I am enough"

Basically this is my wish for every human being - that they knew and trusted they were good enough and loveable. Brene's core message is that "we cannot change and grow when we are in shame and we can't use shame to change ourselves or others". Only when we are in touch with our self worth do we have the capacity and confidence to address whatever it is we'd like to work on in ourselves. Building our resilience to shame means we can be our more authentic selves, not needing to change how we present ourselves to the different people in our lives as we are instead content to be who we are wherever we are and who we are with. 

Imagine a world full of such contented people! So at home in their own skin and delighted with who they are, that there was no need for defensiveness. Such delight/ contentedness doesn't mean we don't still want to grow - there's always room for growth - but that springs from a place of self belief rather than self doubt.

Give me just a little more time and then if you want me to post you the book, let me know!

What's mine to do in a global pandemic?

 I've been mulling over David Lamotte's "what's mine to do?" whilst feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the great need right now - in my close circle, my community, nation and world. So many folk are struggling: I've cried at the news this week of a migrant family dying trying to cross the channel, I've despaired that there is so much global and national poverty, and my social media seems to be full of polarised people as to what should be happening to tackle covid19 amidst so much loss (of life, health, work and hope).

I've been pulled in to conversations about how countries compare in the approaches, and I finally remember that actually I don't want to be right, I want to be kind. The truth is I don't know what the right way forward is in terms of lockdown  - but I don't need to know. I'm not running a country. Its not mine to do. So whether I think a leader is doing it better or worse than elsewhere, I don't need to put my energy into defending or disputing it because I can't change it. (Which is not to deny the value of contacting our politicians, voting , or even revolution - these all have their place).

So what is mine to do? I can choose to keep noticing where my encouragement is needed. Where I can show love. It's completely possible (if I keep working on my own feelings too) to show compassion to all those who need it right now. To those who are grieving their various losses, to those afraid of redundancy or the virus, to those struggling with the restrictions as well as those who feel not enough is being done. I don't have to pick "a side" but just love wherever that love is needed.

As well as my listening/ encouraging skills, I have other resources too I can keep looking out for ways to share. I don't currently have time to help out at the food bank but I have been able to set up a direct debit for example. Thinking intentionally about where I spend, and give, continues to be within my power. I'd be foolish to think I can change the whole world at once, but I can play my part in those small changes that ultimately do change the world.

It's always helpful to remember I don't have to do everything, just what's mine. Sending you much love in your discerning as to what's yours  - you don't have to do it all either. 

Divine midwife

 I was in need of something uplifting, and so was especially delighted to read this excellent post which encourages us to consider if our theology might be rooted in patriarchal imagery. Instead of an interventionist God believed to take charge and rescue, called upon to take our pain away, what if God is present alongside us, guiding us to access our inner resources to manage that pain? She quotes Brene Brown "I hoped faith would be an epidural for pain. Turns out to be a midwife who says 'Push. I'm here. Sometimes it hurts.' Dammit."

https://www.facebook.com/673255819772915/posts/1063791314052695/