It's on days like these. Overcast days with not alot on the schedule, that my mind wanders back to England. As much as I try to push it to the back of my mind and be fully satisfied with where I am now, it's hard when your heart is somewhere else. It's a slight predicament. It's as if I'm playing the waiting game, or pretending that I can just move on without acknowledging or even figuring out where it fits in my past. Is it just the past? Or is it a precursor to what my future holds? Do I wait it out and see what opportunity arises? Or do I sieze the day and take the steps to get back there.
The thing is, no matter how much I try to push it to the back of my mind and just remember it as times gone by, the truth is, it is home for me. Like a heart home. And this makes it hard to know what to do.
Someone once said to me, if it's where your heart is, do it. And maybe it is that simple.
It was, and is, such a huge part of my life, my journey, my growth in who I am as a person and who Jesus is to me. And if I'm honest, I really haven't felt truly satisfied since I have been back.
There is a part of it that scares me. And I think that is stopping me from truly going with the wind and heading back.
What to do.
I don't know.
Let's just wait it out.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
responsibility.
I have begun to realise that responsibility is tough.
There's a new girl in town. She works near me and we chat. She tells me how she has just moved to town and knows no one. I nod and sympathise and say how tough that must be. All the while I know I could definitely help out with that issue. But that would be tough. That would be putting myself out there, opening my life outside of work to her. It would be new. I find myself avoiding asking questions about how her days off were, because I know the answer will make me think of all the things I could have invited her to and how it could have been different. But that would be a little bit tough wouldn't it?
But I know, within me there is a little voice telling me that this is what I am meant to do. That if I truly want to live a life following Jesus, I need to be looking out for the lonely and opening up my life to people who need company. If I have the means to fix it, then why wont I?
By telling Jesus I want to be more like him, I take upon the responsibility to live to that.
There's this boy. He tells me how he has no parents, food, money or home. How he is addicted to drugs and how he prays to come off them. He says he has been in prison and no one will employ him because of his convictions. He can't afford glasses so he can't see properly.
I listen to his stories, helpless as to what to do and where God is in all this.
By praying for my eyes to be opened to opportunities and things Jesus wants me to see, I open myself up to see people like thes and the responsibility to act on that. And it's tough. To be honest, I would rather not. I can't do anything for this boy, apart from be there, listen and buy him the occasional Mcdonalds meal. It would be easier to shrug it off, recede back into myself and carry on my life.
And often, I find myself thinking that I shouldn't always be doing things I don't want to do, Jesus wouldn't want that. But if I am meant to be a light where I am, then I need to take this on. And I am all for growing, changing and being that person that lives a life different from the normal.
I want that compassion that directs people to Jesus. That pbvious point of difference.
Responsibility is tough. But I know it is worth it.
There's a new girl in town. She works near me and we chat. She tells me how she has just moved to town and knows no one. I nod and sympathise and say how tough that must be. All the while I know I could definitely help out with that issue. But that would be tough. That would be putting myself out there, opening my life outside of work to her. It would be new. I find myself avoiding asking questions about how her days off were, because I know the answer will make me think of all the things I could have invited her to and how it could have been different. But that would be a little bit tough wouldn't it?
But I know, within me there is a little voice telling me that this is what I am meant to do. That if I truly want to live a life following Jesus, I need to be looking out for the lonely and opening up my life to people who need company. If I have the means to fix it, then why wont I?
By telling Jesus I want to be more like him, I take upon the responsibility to live to that.
There's this boy. He tells me how he has no parents, food, money or home. How he is addicted to drugs and how he prays to come off them. He says he has been in prison and no one will employ him because of his convictions. He can't afford glasses so he can't see properly.
I listen to his stories, helpless as to what to do and where God is in all this.
By praying for my eyes to be opened to opportunities and things Jesus wants me to see, I open myself up to see people like thes and the responsibility to act on that. And it's tough. To be honest, I would rather not. I can't do anything for this boy, apart from be there, listen and buy him the occasional Mcdonalds meal. It would be easier to shrug it off, recede back into myself and carry on my life.
And often, I find myself thinking that I shouldn't always be doing things I don't want to do, Jesus wouldn't want that. But if I am meant to be a light where I am, then I need to take this on. And I am all for growing, changing and being that person that lives a life different from the normal.
I want that compassion that directs people to Jesus. That pbvious point of difference.
Responsibility is tough. But I know it is worth it.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
hello, again.
She is different everytime I see her.
On Monday she was scrubbed up nice with a multi-coloured woollen jersey pulled on over her trackpants. She proudly informed me that it was new, given to her by a lovely lady at the Methodist church.
'It's nice, isn't it?' she said, smitten, pulling it out from her and waiting for my answer. I agreed.
As we waited for her pizza to be cooked, I caught glimpses of what her life had been.
Kids, a proper job, death, alcohol, drugs, the streets.
And in that moment as she told me this I wondered, what is she thinking? regret? a sense of disappointment? Was there any other way? Did someone try to stop it?
Tonight, as if she were a completely different figure, bumbling down the main street, hair dishevelled, and a look of detachment in her eyes, asking anyone and everyone for change.
'Please miss can I have some change?' she looks into my eyes.
As we sit there, more of the story comes out. Her and her partner have had a fight. She got on the drink. Today was payday and she's used it all with no money for food.
She asks if I have a partner and I shake my head.
'You're lucky' she says in her raspy voice and says something about how she needs to get off the drink.
She's right. I am lucky.
I am lucky to have a home, have a solid life, have had a good upbringing, have had love, have opportunities, have choices, have a job I can hold down, and am lucky that I am not so attached to drink that I will go without food in order to have it. I make choices day to day, not thinking about the consequences, and thats what she did also.
Her consequences were just a little more drastic.
I bet when she started back in the day, she would never have realised this is where she would end up. That she would be relying on strangers to get her through.
I wonder what the solution is? what made her start?
This woman has a special place in my heart but she needs hope. It's not enough to tell her that Jesus loves her, she needs to see him act in her life.
I will continue to catch glimpses of where she's been, who she is and what can be done.
But she also needs food, a home, someone who cares enough to pull her out of what she's in.
We can do so much but Jesus needs to do the rest.
I have wild hope that he will come through for his daughter, Margaret.
On Monday she was scrubbed up nice with a multi-coloured woollen jersey pulled on over her trackpants. She proudly informed me that it was new, given to her by a lovely lady at the Methodist church.
'It's nice, isn't it?' she said, smitten, pulling it out from her and waiting for my answer. I agreed.
As we waited for her pizza to be cooked, I caught glimpses of what her life had been.
Kids, a proper job, death, alcohol, drugs, the streets.
And in that moment as she told me this I wondered, what is she thinking? regret? a sense of disappointment? Was there any other way? Did someone try to stop it?
Tonight, as if she were a completely different figure, bumbling down the main street, hair dishevelled, and a look of detachment in her eyes, asking anyone and everyone for change.
'Please miss can I have some change?' she looks into my eyes.
As we sit there, more of the story comes out. Her and her partner have had a fight. She got on the drink. Today was payday and she's used it all with no money for food.
She asks if I have a partner and I shake my head.
'You're lucky' she says in her raspy voice and says something about how she needs to get off the drink.
She's right. I am lucky.
I am lucky to have a home, have a solid life, have had a good upbringing, have had love, have opportunities, have choices, have a job I can hold down, and am lucky that I am not so attached to drink that I will go without food in order to have it. I make choices day to day, not thinking about the consequences, and thats what she did also.
Her consequences were just a little more drastic.
I bet when she started back in the day, she would never have realised this is where she would end up. That she would be relying on strangers to get her through.
I wonder what the solution is? what made her start?
This woman has a special place in my heart but she needs hope. It's not enough to tell her that Jesus loves her, she needs to see him act in her life.
I will continue to catch glimpses of where she's been, who she is and what can be done.
But she also needs food, a home, someone who cares enough to pull her out of what she's in.
We can do so much but Jesus needs to do the rest.
I have wild hope that he will come through for his daughter, Margaret.
promises.
'The Spirit of God, the Master is on me because God annointed me.
He sent me to preach good news to the poor,
heal the heartbroken,
announce FREEDOM to all captives,
pardon all prisoners.
God sent me to announce the year of his GRACE - a celebration of Gods destruction of our enemies' and to comfort all who mourn,
give them bouquets of roses instead of ashes,
messages of JOY instead of news of doom,
a praising heart instead of a languid spirit.
Rename them 'Oaks of Righteousness' planted by God to display his glory.
They'll rebuild the old ruins,
raise a new city out of the wreckage.
They'll start on ruined cities, take the rubble left behind and make it new..'
Isaiah 61:1-7
HOPE.
He sent me to preach good news to the poor,
heal the heartbroken,
announce FREEDOM to all captives,
pardon all prisoners.
God sent me to announce the year of his GRACE - a celebration of Gods destruction of our enemies' and to comfort all who mourn,
give them bouquets of roses instead of ashes,
messages of JOY instead of news of doom,
a praising heart instead of a languid spirit.
Rename them 'Oaks of Righteousness' planted by God to display his glory.
They'll rebuild the old ruins,
raise a new city out of the wreckage.
They'll start on ruined cities, take the rubble left behind and make it new..'
Isaiah 61:1-7
HOPE.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Gillingham.
This tiny town is constantly in my thoughts. It doesn't even need an invitation. No matter where I am or what I am doing it creeps in. And with it comes a yearning, a deep fondness that resonates right to my core, a feeling of attachment far greater than with anything else. The high street that has a certain air of desolate beauty about it, the people...oh the people. The youth.
So much broken-ness yet so much possibility. I have never felt more at home anywhere in my life. And for this reason my heart yearns to go back.
I almost feel a certain sense of loss...maybe a loss of who I was when I was there...so much less pre-occupied with others thoughts, my appearance, the everyday bothers..but was so keen for God to use me, challenge me and just KNEW that whatever small thing I prayed, that God would work through me. Numerous times certain kids were put on my heart and we would pray that we would bump into them that day..and we did....and God just came through...The extra money in my purse which defnitely hadn't been there before, the constant provision, the challenges within me to re-think everything I believed, the eye-opening youth, the amazing people I was able to meet, the places I was able to go, the beginning of a very different journey with Jesus that I had never thought I would be on. mind-blowing.
I guess I miss the simpleness of life there.
Simply trusting.
Simply being myself.
Simply feeling so free.
Simply knowing.
And then just in the mix of things my heart wonders what it will be like when I do go back.
The same? Different? And will I have changed?
I'm very glad the timing isn't in my hands because I would most definitely stuff it up.
Thanks Jesus.
So much broken-ness yet so much possibility. I have never felt more at home anywhere in my life. And for this reason my heart yearns to go back.
I almost feel a certain sense of loss...maybe a loss of who I was when I was there...so much less pre-occupied with others thoughts, my appearance, the everyday bothers..but was so keen for God to use me, challenge me and just KNEW that whatever small thing I prayed, that God would work through me. Numerous times certain kids were put on my heart and we would pray that we would bump into them that day..and we did....and God just came through...The extra money in my purse which defnitely hadn't been there before, the constant provision, the challenges within me to re-think everything I believed, the eye-opening youth, the amazing people I was able to meet, the places I was able to go, the beginning of a very different journey with Jesus that I had never thought I would be on. mind-blowing.
I guess I miss the simpleness of life there.
Simply trusting.
Simply being myself.
Simply feeling so free.
Simply knowing.
And then just in the mix of things my heart wonders what it will be like when I do go back.
The same? Different? And will I have changed?
I'm very glad the timing isn't in my hands because I would most definitely stuff it up.
Thanks Jesus.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
margaret.
A while back I met this interesting lady.
Wearing a beanie over her short tufty hair, and clothes roughly layered over one another, she would only utter a few words when asked a question.
Her walk was more of a shuffle, accompanied by eyes that wandered here and there but fled to the ground whenever she thought they would meet anothers.
I saw her before she saw me and vowed that if I saw her again I would do something. Maybe buy her lunch or find out her story, but for that moment I would just let her be, wandering the streets.
Then a niggle, a thought, maybe now, as I walked past her. Maybe she was hungry?
As we sat and ate, I studied her, asking questions that werent met with answers. She was focused on the fish and chips in front of her.
In that moment was left with a feeling that Margaret and I would meet again.
Since then there have been many moments I have seen her short unkempt figure, shuffling through town, her eyes wandering aimlessly.
I wish I could say that everytime I see her my heart jumps for joy and I am so eager to befriend this lady and love her as she is. But, I am ashamed to admit it but there have been far more times I have pretended I haven't seen her, carried on my daily business, and just walked on by no matter how in need she looks. I try to push the thought out of my mind and think of reasons to justify not even saying hello. I get so mad at myself everytime, once the opportunity has passed, and know what I should have done, and vow next time will be different.
The thing is, if I pretend I don't see her, I can go on with my life thinking that I can't do anything for her, I can stay inside my own little world and be comfortable. I can keep thinking that there is nothing I can do for her, that I am the most important thing, that all I have to do is look out for numero uno. This needs to change. I need stop trying to cover that little voice that urges me to do good, no matter how hard it feels or what it looks like to others. I need to embrace it.
I hope that next time I see the figure shuffling down the street I will go out of my way to say hello and see how she is, and be genuinely interested.
I would love to boldly show love, not just when it suits me, but always.
What a challenge.
Maybe it begins with a choice that needs to be acted out consistently?
I want to try to love like Jesus loved.
Consistently and unconditionally.
no matter who.
Margaret, I learn more from you than you would ever know.
Wearing a beanie over her short tufty hair, and clothes roughly layered over one another, she would only utter a few words when asked a question.
Her walk was more of a shuffle, accompanied by eyes that wandered here and there but fled to the ground whenever she thought they would meet anothers.
I saw her before she saw me and vowed that if I saw her again I would do something. Maybe buy her lunch or find out her story, but for that moment I would just let her be, wandering the streets.
Then a niggle, a thought, maybe now, as I walked past her. Maybe she was hungry?
As we sat and ate, I studied her, asking questions that werent met with answers. She was focused on the fish and chips in front of her.
In that moment was left with a feeling that Margaret and I would meet again.
Since then there have been many moments I have seen her short unkempt figure, shuffling through town, her eyes wandering aimlessly.
I wish I could say that everytime I see her my heart jumps for joy and I am so eager to befriend this lady and love her as she is. But, I am ashamed to admit it but there have been far more times I have pretended I haven't seen her, carried on my daily business, and just walked on by no matter how in need she looks. I try to push the thought out of my mind and think of reasons to justify not even saying hello. I get so mad at myself everytime, once the opportunity has passed, and know what I should have done, and vow next time will be different.
The thing is, if I pretend I don't see her, I can go on with my life thinking that I can't do anything for her, I can stay inside my own little world and be comfortable. I can keep thinking that there is nothing I can do for her, that I am the most important thing, that all I have to do is look out for numero uno. This needs to change. I need stop trying to cover that little voice that urges me to do good, no matter how hard it feels or what it looks like to others. I need to embrace it.
I hope that next time I see the figure shuffling down the street I will go out of my way to say hello and see how she is, and be genuinely interested.
I would love to boldly show love, not just when it suits me, but always.
What a challenge.
Maybe it begins with a choice that needs to be acted out consistently?
I want to try to love like Jesus loved.
Consistently and unconditionally.
no matter who.
Margaret, I learn more from you than you would ever know.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
justice.
There are so many things in the world that just aren't fair. Injustice is everywhere. This world is full of it...What would it look like to stand up for those who dont have a voice? To strive to make a difference for those who cant make it for themselves..those in prisons, the hungry, refugees, war victims, slaves, human trafficking...
Its something that my eyes have just been opened too..Looking outside of my self and realising that there are people in the world that literally have NOTHING. Seeing that their are innocent people all over the world caught up in war zones, human trafficking, refugees, starving children..and to be honest it is overwhelming..To be brutally honest at the thought of it all and the feeling of helplessnes I get this urge to pretend I had never realised at all, because then I could carry on my normal life just worrying about myself and all the little mindless bothers that happen. But that is not what is helpful..that is not what God wants. And i think he is stirring my heart to GET UP, take action and make a difference, no matter how big or small.
Why should I care about injustice? Because each of these people are humans. Each of these people are loved by God and if I am to say that I am a follower of Jesus then I have to act like one. But what am I to do? This is where I stop. Because to be honest I have no idea. But I have to stand up and do something. We need to be aware of all that is going on in the world because we are called to stand up for those who dont have a voice, set the captives free..and what does that look like? I dont know. But I am so willing to find out. Start small? send a few petitions? learn about issues?
People treating other people so badly must make God so angry, so mad. His heart must be so broken when he sees his children being mistreated. And for me to sit down and do nothing would be an offense. If I were to start using my time wisely, if we were to cutout all those distractions that get us nowhere, how much of a difference could we make? Imagine a world where people actually cared, stood up for those who needed it and wouldn't stop shouting about it until something was done?! We have the means, we have a voice. Im just trying to figure out how to use it.
Its something that my eyes have just been opened too..Looking outside of my self and realising that there are people in the world that literally have NOTHING. Seeing that their are innocent people all over the world caught up in war zones, human trafficking, refugees, starving children..and to be honest it is overwhelming..To be brutally honest at the thought of it all and the feeling of helplessnes I get this urge to pretend I had never realised at all, because then I could carry on my normal life just worrying about myself and all the little mindless bothers that happen. But that is not what is helpful..that is not what God wants. And i think he is stirring my heart to GET UP, take action and make a difference, no matter how big or small.
Why should I care about injustice? Because each of these people are humans. Each of these people are loved by God and if I am to say that I am a follower of Jesus then I have to act like one. But what am I to do? This is where I stop. Because to be honest I have no idea. But I have to stand up and do something. We need to be aware of all that is going on in the world because we are called to stand up for those who dont have a voice, set the captives free..and what does that look like? I dont know. But I am so willing to find out. Start small? send a few petitions? learn about issues?
People treating other people so badly must make God so angry, so mad. His heart must be so broken when he sees his children being mistreated. And for me to sit down and do nothing would be an offense. If I were to start using my time wisely, if we were to cutout all those distractions that get us nowhere, how much of a difference could we make? Imagine a world where people actually cared, stood up for those who needed it and wouldn't stop shouting about it until something was done?! We have the means, we have a voice. Im just trying to figure out how to use it.
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