Christian Bookshops Make Me Feel Guilty

I love the junk mail I get from our local Christian bookshop. I read it and think about it and often 'feel' that there is something there that could really help me in my Christian walk/life/relationships/wardrobe etc.


I then go to the store. I find the book I am after and then discover twenty others along the same line of thought and then get completely swamped by indecision. Should I be looking at one written by a man or a woman? Should I go for one that has a bit of a family focus? Am I bad mother if I completely bypass all the parenting books?  I then carry around with me three or four painfully selected titles, with which I pace the store hoping that I have made the right choice. Will I read them? Will they challenge my faith? Do these particular books encapsulate where I am in my walk? Sigh.


At some point during the visit, I do a 360 degree turn and see row after row, shelf after shelf of books on topics from finding God's will to sex.  And then my brain begins to do some weird chemically thing and it just stops and freezes - I see solid blocks of primary colours with an over dub of elevator music.


There is so much I don't know, about everything, and this store emphasises this like no other. I thought I knew a lot about prayer, but there is a whole aisle on this topic. I thought I knew my bible stories quite well, but there are walls and walls of bible stories. I thought I knew how to be married, but there are entire sections dedicated to this. The other people in the store seem to move with confidence, they know what kind of music they like, they choose just the right bible guide and they choose cards and gifts with barely a nervous tick.


But not me, more often than not, I retrace my steps, put all the books back and slink out to my car. I don't so much like the store afterall.  I have been pondering this, as I tend to over ponder everything.


I don't like the idea of marginalising people. Would someone with a different 'faith status' than me feel comfortable walking into this bookstore? What makes these books so special? Are the writers people who don't sin and who go to church every Sunday? Maybe it is just me, but I like to think that God doesn't just reside between Dobson and Yancey.  I like to think he can be found anywhere.


In fact, one of the most spiritually profound books I have read in the last year was 'Eat Pray Love' by Elizabeth Gilbert. The book follows a girl around my age,  who discovers she no longer wants to be married so leaves her husband and takes a year to find herself. So she lives in Italy for a while where she EATS. Then she moves on to India where she lives in an Ashram and she PRAYS. She then moves on to Bali where she finds a lovely man and learns about LOVE. I loved the texture and grit with which this woman writes and the way that she approached her discovery. I learnt a lot about prayer and meditation, something that I never really 'got' from Christian books.


I also love the Harry Potter Books and the CS Lewis tales and The Lord of the Rings series. I will write more on these another time, but what I am saying is, that God is everywhere in everything. He can be found in the pages of any book, movie or song. The human heart is wired to love stories of good versus evil and being rescued by a good King/Prince/hunk.


There are people out there searching for this kind of story all the time. They go to movies, they read books, they listen to music - searching for something that resonates with the niggle that lies inside them. I say this like I am some kind of expert - well I am! I have known God my whole life, but still I didn't realise that he is everywhere and in everything and can be found in a flower, a song or words on a page - if we are brave enough to look.


Others with the same niggle may not have found God like I did. So they are out there still searching, looking, wanting the happy ending, the rescue, the hunk who sweeps in on his white horse, or the fair maiden to choose him for his heart not his brawn. But these people may not go to a church or associate themselves with a religion - so how do they then find their happy ending? 


I then fast forward to wondering how these people would feel walking into my local Christian bookstore?  Would they have a reason to go there? Do they know it exists? Would they too find the choice of books on every topic imaginable suffocating? Would someone approach them and help them find just the right book to scratch that internal niggle?


Again I fast forward to wondering how these people would feel walking into my church? What would they think of all the rows and rows of well groomed Christians in their Sunday best singing together, looking at a big screen and having 'communion' together?  Yipes, just the thought of it makes me panic.  If our church is not inviting for these seekers, where do they go to find God?


My answer. In us. Not in a bookstore. Not in a church. They find God through a cup of tea. A piece of cake. A friendly smile. A shared joke. A meal. A relationship. A pain eased. A hug given. A hand held. A child minded.


God is everywhere and in everything - from books to our hearts. We need to be out in the world being billboards of love to those we have around us. Simple. No panic attacks, steps to take, books to buy, or things to listen to. We just need to be available and willing. Simple right?

Quote - Dale Carnegie

Everybody in the world is seeking happiness - and there is only one sure way to find it. That is by controlling your thoughts. Happiness doesn’t depend on your outward conditions. It depends on your inner conditions.

Dale Carnegie from ‘How to Win Friends and Influence People’

How rich are you?

Our pastor spoke about this website on Sunday. Very interesting. You plug in how much you earn (you may need to do some conversions to $US) and it tells you where you are in relation to the world's population.

Here is the link: www.globalrichlist.com

Makes you think doesn't it? We are so obsessed with how much money we need to pay the mortgage, buy food, pay the bills, dress ourselves and our kids etc. But when you start to think about how little people elsewhere survive on, it changes your focus from being one of how do we make our money last longer to how can we help someone else?

We have begun to rethink how we are helping others.  Some places we are looking are:

Compassion International - child sponsorship

Hagar International - freeing children from the sex trade abroad

Oxfam International - why not buy a family a goat?

Scripture Union - bringing Jesus into schools

Are we doing enough to make the world a better place?

Brain Pop: Perfect (or Perfection Part 3)

I wrote this next post a little while ago. I got distracted by the other 'Perfection' posts and didn't get back around to posting it. It is amazing how God teaches groups of people the same things at the same time and this whole 'Perfection' thing is just one example.


In a final response to the earlier posts, I have to say that the blogger did miss the point a bit....  I am hoping that this post can tie up some loose ends for my train of thought on this issue.....  


So... several weeks ago I wrote.....


It has been a pretty strange couple of weeks around the traps of my personal life lately. I have been to the funeral of someone who committed suicide, I have stumbled upon a friend's nasty addiction, a family member is in a really unhappy place and a good friend has been dealt a personal blow of her own. On top of that my whole family has come down ill with various things requiring a myriad of medications and lots of visits to our local medical centre. It has been a crazy time.


But, God has chosen now to draw me in. Or, I have decided that now is the time I near to draw near to him. Or, perhaps this has been happening for a while and I needed some sadness to remind me of God's goodness.


I don't think I am a very good Christian. I get by on my own most of the time. I know I don't pray enough and I certainly don't read my bible enough. I love God and I know he loves me and I would definitely consider myself 'saved', but there has always felt as if something is missing, like some kind of connection just isn't there. I thought it was that God was hard to find, but I am realising that it is actually more along the lines of me not tuning my 'God Radio' into the right station.


Some things have been crossing my mind through music and reading lately that have made things in my brain pop. Literally, popped, thoughts that have picked up a track that lies in my brain and pops it right onto a new track so that a new train of thought can begin. It is cool.


One 'Brain Pop' has been about being perfect. I personally don't struggle with being perfect, I can live with a bit of mess, I think being a bit dishevelled keeps me real. But God is perfect. He doesn't make mistakes. He doesn't allow things to happen without a reason. He does things for our good. He is ever the same day after day, year after year, decade after decade. The God who David in the bible worshipped, is the same one I can worship. I have always thought these kinds of ideas were just fundamental bible knowledge things, but I am beginning to realise that they can actually be more.


Being perfect is impossible for humans. Oh, we can practice and try and try and try, but in the end, we are unable to do it on our own. But this is actually a quality of God. He just is - perfect. And this is where my brain popped - God's perfection is actually worthy of praise.


With my shopping list way of praying, or the good old fashioned 'ACTS' way of praying, it can be hard to miss praising God for his qualities, not just the amazing amounts of blessings he dumps into our lives. Being perfect sets God apart from me as a human and helps me to see that I need Him in my life. Being perfect and not making mistakes allows me to see that God is in control more than I will ever be and that if I lock into what he wants for me, things will be okay.


Through exposure to lots of imperfections in life like: suicide, addictions, betrayal, anger, jealousy, abuse and general human nastiness, I have found that God is perfect. God is so sustainable, he uses every scrap of human emotion to teach me things! At a time when ordinarily I would be under the covers eating whipped cream and not bathing due to the 'tragedy' of things I have dealt with in the past few weeks, I find myself up bright and early just needing to write down the reasons why God being perfect is so worthy of praise - what a mind blowing thing.


Just to be a bit of a spiritual geek - I found an online Bible Concordance and typed in 'Perfect' and found a great verse - it is a nice way to finish off this mini sermon...

Deuteronomy 32

The Song

 ^1-5 Listen, Heavens, I have something to tell you. Attention, Earth, I've got a mouth full of words. My teaching, let it fall like a gentle rain,
      my words arrive like morning dew,
   Like a sprinkling rain on new grass,
      like spring showers on the garden.
   For it's  God's Name I'm preaching—
      respond to the greatness of our God!
    The Rock: His works are perfect, 
      and the way he works is fair and just; 
   A God you can depend upon, no exceptions, 
      a straight-arrow God. 
   His messed-up, mixed-up children, his non-children,
      throw mud at him but none of it sticks.


Thus sayeth B.


PS - 'Brain Pops' will feature in coming posts - seems that my brain is a poppin' place to be!

Perfection Part 2

This is the follow up to the 'Perfection' Post from the other day....


The Cure for Perfection...




And this is the response I put up on the blog site....

My biggest struggle is to not lose myself in the pressure the world puts on me as a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, teacher and individual. Although, I do put a lot of pressure on myself as well.  I struggle with depression, and have done both before I have had children and after, it is not a great journey to be on but it is one a have to walk every day.


What I would say to the 'old me' would be, "You are actually fine. You are doing really well.  Get outside, go meet some people, enjoy those moments of sunshine and light. Allow yourself some time to just be happy - being happy is the best gift you can give to yourself and others. Allow time for your soul to soar and be adventurous, there is so much life out there to see and do."


I know this is not meant to be about a religion - but I have found that having a belief in God has trawled me out of some dark and dusty places. Through learning about God I have learnt more about myself - most of what I learnt wasn't good - but through realising that my life has a plan and a purpose has inspired me to keep going and to try to reach my potential.


The Perfection Article hit me right where I am at. I want to be slim and beautiful with great skin and no cellulite, but unless I sell my house to pay for these improvements, I have to work with what I have got. And what I have got is;  a God who loves me, a husband who adores me and treats me like a queen, gorgeous children who are full of life and laughter, a family who support all my cooky endeavours and allow me just be me, fabulous friends who have walked through life with me and shared their light and love and a great home where I am free to express myself and be at peace. I wouldn't swap these things to look good in a bikini. 


I have not been raped, molested, bullied, teased, belittled, abused, neglected or hurt by anyone I love. I have lead a pretty charmed life. Then why is that I have struggled with depression and obesity? Because I did not know who I was, I did not know how strong I was, I did not see that I could help myself let alone anyone else. I did not see that life is a test, a challenge, an opportunity to grow. 


It was never promised that life would be easy - lucky - because it is not. It was never promised that we would be happy - lucky because sometimes we are not - this is a choice - one we have to make dozens of times a day.






Be warned... There will be a Part 3 to this....

Perfection

This is something I stumbled upon through a friend of a friend's blog. It is worth reading right through to the end. You may need tissues. Well worth it though.

Powerful huh? Anyone spot anything missing?

There is a follow up post to this that I am currently processing - it requires some reflection. Stay tuned.

Quote - Pam Farrell

When you live your life accidently, just meandering along, don’t be surprised if your life becomes an accident.

Pam Farrell from: ‘The 10 Best Decisions a Woman Can Make’

Song Review - Steer

Watch the youtube.com film clip here


Read the Lyrics....


Steer
Feel it falling off like clothing

taste it rolling off your tongue

see the lights above you glowing

Oh and breathe them deep into your lungs

It was always simple, not hidden hard

You’ve been pulling at the strings playing puppeteer for kings

And you’ve had enough

But the search ends here

Where the night is totally clear

And your heart is fierce

So you know finally that you control where you go

You can steer

So hold this feeling like a new born

Of freedom surging through your veins

You have opened up a new door

So bring on the wind, fire and rain

It was always simple, not hidden hard

You’ve been played at a game called remembering your name

And you’ve stuffed it up

But the search ends here

Where the night is totally clear

And your heart is fierce

So you finally know that you control where you go

You can steer

‘Cos you’ve been listening for answers

But the city screams and all your dreams go unheard

But the search ends here

Where the night is totally clear

And your heart is fierce

So you finally know that you control where you go

You can steer

Yeah get out of the box and step into the clear

‘Cos now you finally know that you can steer

Why I love it?

At the beginning of the youtube clip (link above), Missy briefly explains why she wrote this song.  But, I believe that one story can mean different things to lots of different people, so this reflection is what I have learnt from this song....

Firstly, only an Aussie would use the phrase, ‘Stuff it up’ in a song and where thongs.  I love that about Aussie music.

This song came out in 2007 when my extended family was going through a bit of crisis. It wasn’t an easy time and both my husband and I were feeling that we had some choices to make about our future and our little family. So this song was really inspiring.

Although the gyst of the song may seem a bit humanistic, in that it outlines that we can ‘steer’ our own path, I can see that this is how God works with me. Over the years, there have been many times when BF#1 and I, have been faced with a major decision like; which car to buy, how long to stay overseas and where to live.  These are big questions in our human lives, but when BF#1 and I have prayed about them, the answer we have been given time and time again is, “You decide.” We really believe that God has blessed us with intelligence and that we are in the zone of his favour and that these decisions are not going to change that.

There have also been times when God has specifically laid on our hearts the specifics of what we are meant to do - and these are times when we don’t have to decide on things, we are steered by God. But, this too is a choice, as we all have choice about everything. Unfortunately, there have been times when we have ignored this steering from God and have tried to forge our own path, only to come across the same forks in the road over and over.

Moral of the story: If we align ourselves with God - He will steer us in the direction he knows is best for us. Thank goodness that he has a plan for us, because most of the time, I have no idea where I am going and threaten to 'stuff it up' if I work on my own.


This also comes back to a notion that faith is linked with a weakness. I am learning more and more that to have faith is not actually the easy option, it is a day to day choice and an aligning of thoughts to a force way beyond comprehension. By letting go of the steering wheel and letting God do the driving seems so brave and adventurous. Giving away some of our control and our desire to 'steer' can actually open up a world of new possibilities for us.  Something to ponder.

Sunday Mornings 2

I am not very good at church. I mean, I am quite well behaved when I am there, I am just not good at the whole getting ready and then being ready to listen thing...  I am hoping I am not alone or I am going to look like a right numpty.  If you really want to know what I am like on Sunday mornings click here.

At cell group the other night - by the by, I do love calling our group ‘cell’ group - it has a rough gangster type feel about it - like we all had cells on H block and can share stories of communal showering - but I digress. I shared a bit about how I just can’t seem to get us all ready on time on Sundays and how stressed I was feeling about it. I have gotten to the point where I am thinking of abandoning church to eliminate some stress from my life. 


Then I decided I should probably pray about and not just make decisions like that willy-nilly.  So I did, and I thought God would find it preferable to have me spend the hours of 9am-11am on a Sunday in quiet reflection on the back deck sipping tea and talking to my children about why Samaritans were seen as bad. But no, I found myself feeling really sad about the way I have been treating Sunday mornings. They have not been a time of preparation to hear from God or to spend time with his peeps. I had turned Sunday morning into a stress filled, frustrating and sometimes teary time of a parent behaving badly. So a new solution came to me.

Now, you must understand, I don’t want to come across as some nutter who claims to ‘hear’ from God about which type of bread to buy or which shoes will help me to fulfil God’s purposes for me. But, I have been in churches and around God enough to know that the still quiet voice that pushes us into a new line of thinking, is God. 

So, this new solution. Instead of me trying to get as much sleep as humanly possible on Sunday mornings and staying in bed as long as I can get away with, the solution is, to get up earlier. Can you believe it? That had to be from God, there is no way I would think of that on my own. So, this week I tried it. I set my alarm for 6am. I was going to give it a burl. And, God being a God who knows my inner workings, had me awake 10 minutes before the alarm. So I got up. 

I had a great morning. I made a lovely date slice for morning tea, I did some dishes and I got my heart ready for the morning rush. I was able to allow my brain to wander around the ridges for a while instead of harnessing it and trying to get it to go faster than it wanted to. My eldest daughter got up and we had the loveliest time together, we hugged a lot, giggled a lot, she kept me company while I shaved me legs (lucky little thing) and we chatted. At a reasonable hour we made coffee for daddy and laid out the breakfast things. Daddy, who was able to sleep in, was woken by freshly brewed coffee and a calm wife and bubbly five year old.

We were all in the car nice and early and, here I would love to say we had ‘No Tantrums’, but alas, we have a two year old princess diva, who did not like something or other and ruined our near perfect record. We arrived at church all in a calm and orderly fashion. It was a great success and this will be repeated. I am hoping that I can go for a walk to my favourite mountain top vantage point (want to say ‘look out’ but that sounds a bit seedy) and spend some time praying love over the valleys.

Thanks God for not giving up on me, 

thanks for always waiting for me,

thanks for the reminders that seem hard but are actually easy,

thanks for my beautiful family who I spent time with this morning,

thanks for the good things you pile into my life.  

Amen.

The 9:04am Sunday ramblings of a sleep deprived, fashion deficit, thirty something mum....

Oooh, I like that stripey t-shirt she is wearing, looks great with those cute shoes.  I don’t know if her bag matches, but I can see the look she is going for.  


Are they cut off jeans? Yes, but why roll them up so high?  Paired with a fluro t-shirt, now I feel old.  I wore fluro in Primary school, I used to wear fluro pink socks with my blue school uniform.  Cringe!  I do like the skirt that lady across the aisle is wearing, the chiffon really flows and looks dreamy, but burgundy and white?  I am not so sure about that. 


I wonder where Miss Z got that grape from?  I certainly didn’t pack any.  


Oh dear, my friend is wearing the same outfit that she wore yesterday.  I couldn’t do that, I would have to wash it.  She obviously doesn’t spill things like I do.  I don’t think she even has BO, she always smells good.  I should ask her what perfume she wears.

Oh a powerpoint, I wonder if there will be any photos, I like photos.  I must put our photos of New Zealand into a Powerpoint, dad has said he would like to see them.  Hmm, it would be lunch time in Auckland, it would be nice to have lunch at that little cafe on the harbour.  Boy I got sunburnt badly on the ferry.  


Hmm, Simon has a new shirt on... I do like blue.  I wonder if Mr Me would wear a shirt like that, probably not, actually then I would have to iron it.  I don’t fancy checking how high the ironing pile is, I bet it is higher that Miss Z by now.  Must get onto that after playgroup this week.  


Haha, Miss A just threw a sultana and it sailed 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 rows in front, she has quite an arm on her. Oooh, must must must not forget to send out an email about playgroup, have a few new girls coming, that will be nice.  I wonder if Mrs DE will come this year, she is lovely and has nice hair.  I can’t believe she says she doesn’t colour it, I bet she secretly does.  I could go and check her bins, no that would be creepy.

Oh, communion time.  Hmmm, yes, am very thankful for what God has done.  Agree with the sermon? Ummmm.... well..... I suppose I do, I agree with the philosphies upheld in the church.  Hmmm?  God been speaking to me?  Well.... does God really speak to people in the same way he did in the Bible? Yancey said something about that in a book I started reading a while ago....  Yes, the book with the nice cover, blue one with clouds.  I wonder if it would be too much to paint clouds on the ceiling in our bedroom?  Would I sponge it?  I might Google that when I get home.  Oh, communication cards... Prayer requests?  No, I am all good.  Nothing needing prayer for here.

Quote - Joanna Weaver

Discouragement is just around the corner from distraction.

Joanna Weaver from ‘Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World’

Sunday Mornings

I am about to admit something that I am not so sure if I should. I really don’t like Sunday mornings. I desperately want to say ‘hate’, but we don’t use that word in our house. 

I am not sure what it is about Sundays that turn me into a military sergeant wanting to be in charge of a vagabond band of unruly and unwilling troupes. To get my family out of the house requires all sorts of cajoling, pleading, tutt tutting and sometimes even yelling. So let’s look at a typical Sunday morning at my house...

7:30am – if the clock shows this time and I am not showered and at least dressed, I am already running late. Not a good sign. Children are usually up being their lovely needy selves expecting cups of tea and stories in bed. Daddy usually obliges while I blast around the house laying out clothes and shoes.

8:00am – must have at least started eating breakfast. Needs to be inhaled, I mean ingested, within about 15-20 minutes, shame my two year old cannot read the time and thinks mummy’s pleas to eat quicker are hilarious. No porridge, eggs or French toast on Sundays at our house, Weetbix or toast - don’t spill any crumbs.

8:15am – I finish getting ready and begin getting the girls into their clothes.  It is usually at this time that my husband, who is enjoying a morning not rushing off to work, disappears, for quite some time. I fluster about with our two daughters and their beautiful hair, requiring lots and lots of brushing, product and agonising over sitting still so styles can be performed in a reasonable amount of time.

8:30am – ensure all teeth are brushed and shoes are in place. Hide snacks in handbag in case service goes long or children become noisy.

8:45am – everyone in the car through a cloud of questions about toilets, teeth, hair, jumpers, permission to allow toy monkey church attendance and a final nappy bag check.

8:51am – walk calmly into church, shake hands with greeter, find seat (number 74, blue on aisle) and finally, look at husband and sigh.  Phew, made it.

Does this sound familiar to anyone? It is so hard getting everyone into their Sunday best and their butts on a seat by 8:59am. But why? I get my children ready for school all the time and we leave well before 8:45am.  I ponder these things between when the service starts and when my husband finally accepts that he has to love me despite my nasty pre-church behaviour.

I have two theories regarding my utter dislike of Sunday mornings.  

Theory number 1:  It is hard to keep it all together. ‘Sunday Best’ means just that. We have to look ‘right’, despite the pants kind of week we have had.  Lippy must be in place and hair done just right; ensemble selected and pressed on Saturday. Who makes up these rules? Me. I was raised believing that getting dressed in our best clothes was a sign of respect to our faith, which I still accept. And, I like to look as if I do have it all together; I mean really, what would people think if I turned up in my Oscar the Grouch pyjamas with bed hair, eating yoghurt straight from the tub? I would be whisked away into a quiet room given a cup of tea and a comforting hug from the pastor’s wife. Yipes! Not that Wendy isn’t totally lovely....    

I know that I say I don’t care what people think of me and I want to be as individual as the next person, but I don’t want to rock the boat. I want to look as if everything is okay, even when it perhaps isn’t. It can be easier to carry the illusion of togetherness rather than be vulnerable about where we really are at.  It is a shame, but an unfortunate reality in big churches.

Theory number 2: The Devil loves Sunday mornings at my house. I truly believe that Satan loves heading to my place on Sunday mornings, in fact, I think he comes somewhere in the middle of the night so he can get front row seats for the show. He then lets fly with his trickery, spite and impatience, revealing the worst in our family (me in particular). Why would he bother? Have I mentioned anything about God at all in this diatribe about church? Hair dryer malfunctions, spots on clothes, arguments with spouses, children who go crazy with Crayolas while wearing petal pink linen minutes before getting into the car, these are all things that distract me from thinking about God. Sunday is meant to be a day of rest and reflection, yet I have turned it into a mine field of potential disasters.

A few months ago I seriously considered not going to church again until both my children could tie their own shoes and make me a decent cappuccino.  It was all too much, but it was then that I looked down and saw my eldest daughter singing her little lungs out to ‘How Great is Our God’ and my younger daughter spinning in circles at our feet with her hands raised.  I realised that church is about worship and fellowship.  It wouldn’t matter to God how I was dressed or what my family ate for breakfast, but what does matter is that I give myself time to appreciate all that God has poured into my life.

I am getting better at Sunday mornings; don’t ask my husband, he may disagree.  But I am trying to learn the art of worship through the process of getting ready for church.  Beautiful music to listen to, earlier out of bed to calmly get myself together and taking the time to smile at my family have helped.  However, just for a laugh, one day I might turn up to church in my Oscar the Grouch pyjamas, ready to worship God and thank him for giving us a venue and an outlet to worship freely. Oh, and if I do, Wendy, I take my tea white, with ¾ of a spoon of sugar, not too strong please.

Quote - William Shakespeare

There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.

William Shakespeare

Being a Christian

I was raised in a Christian home. My family worshipped at the Reformed Church. For those who are not familiar with that flavour of church - it was established by Dutch immigrants. They are very conservative, follow various Catechisms and base a lot of their faith on Calvinist - Lutheran philosophies. In a nut shell.

Looking back, I always believed there was a God. I loved the creation story and just knew that I knew that this is how the world came to be. I loved Sunday school and earned lots of rulers and stickers for remembering memory verses and I particularly enjoyed the colourful booklets we were given each week.

When I was ten, I was allowed to join the girls’ group run by the church, it was called ‘Calvinettes’ - I did not think it was at all amusing, for some reason my husband still laughs and thinks that this a hilarious name for a girls' group. I thought it was an honour. I loved it. I loved the uniform, the scarf, the badges, the singing, the creed - the whole thing. And I learnt more about God.

When I was 16 I stood before my church and my friends (and the cute guy I was dating) and did my ‘Confession of Faith’ which was the culmination of a couple of months of intense bible studies with the Pastor. It was a proud day for me, and my parents, as I was able to publicly declare my faith.

Throughout my teens and twenties I was part of various churches and married that cute guy who was at my Confession of Faith. We moved between Baptist churches and Pentecostal churches and learnt lots of things. Some of the things we learnt were great, like grace and forgiveness and how God cares about every detail of our lives and about healing. Some of the things we learnt were not so great, like how Christians can be weird, spiteful, hurtful, wicked and down right juvenile. I went through a period of time, and I am still not sure if I am through it, where I could not say that I was a Christian - I tell people I follow Christ, because Christians can be down right awful.

So, I am the classic Christian right? Pfft.

We are doing a series of studies at church at the moment on the parable of the prodigal son (The Prodigal God by Timothy Keller). It has been great, but something has been grating on my heart. I thought the story was about a son who wanted money, asked his father for it, got it, squandered it and then found himself having to ask for his father’s forgiveness. I thought it was a story of how we take our Godly inheritance and squander it and only when we have nothing, do we come back to God. The lesson being, stay close to God.

But, no. There is the older brother. He stays at home. He carefully watches his father and how he manages his remaining inheritance. The younger brother is seen as the wayward vagabond who squanders what he is given. The older brother is seen as the legalistic one, he stays at home and is obedient to his father. 


This can be taken further. The younger son is rebellious because he leaves and lives an immoral life, but the older son is rebellious in that he stays but only cares about what is going to be left to him. In a church context, this may mean forgiveness, or heaven.  Ouch, this is starting to hit home....

I have started seeing how much I demand from God and how much I squander the wealth of things he has given me. I live my life the way that I want, but tell people I go to church and that I do 'this and that' for God. In reality, the things I do fit nicely into my week, I schedule them and really do not much more than my fair share. In a lot of ways I am a pew warmer. 

It is easy to look down our legalistic, religious noses at those people who are not ‘saved’ or who don’t go to church. It is easy to think that we are better than others because we go to church and pay our tithes. But, are we squandering what God has given us on the other six days a week? 


I sometimes wonder if the younger son became closer to his father because for a time, he was away from his father... I sometimes wish, in a would never wish it in a thousand years kind of way, that I knew what this felt like. I have always gone to church, I have always believed and have always believed God loves me. What a luxury, what a blessing. But can this hinder me from fully knowing and seeking out God?

The series continues and I am hoping to hear more about this and come up with some real life things I can do to be more real with God and myself. Stay tuned.

Scared of Being Spiritual

I am scared to be seen as spiritual. I am scared that I will put people off. I am scared to be associated with those people who preach on street corners or who spend their lives converting the ‘lost’ in the darkest corners of the world. I am scared to put myself into the same box as anyone who is seen as ‘out there’. I don’t want to rock the boat.

But, I am also scared of not rocking the boat. I worry that between birth and death all I will take from the earth is Oxygen and all I will leave is Methane. I cannot imagine going from embryo to cadaver feeling that life is meaningless. I believe all these things show that God is pulling on my heart strings.

I have felt challenged to put these words down for a long time. But where? Who would read them? Who would care? I have had squidzillions of questions buzzing around my head for years and I have tried and and tried to find the answers with no real success.


Sometimes, the frustrating thing about God is his unending patience and ability to sit me out. He has been waiting. For me. Waiting for me to come looking. Waiting for me to stop dilly-dallying around and start looking in the right places for the answers to all my questions.  

Well, I am done with the dilly-dallying. I am done with the millions of questions that ricochet around my head unanswered. I am done with trying to find the answers on my own.  I. Am. Done.

So, why blog about it? I can’t actually answer that. All I know is that the thought of NOT blogging about these things seems somehow wrong. So, I will blog. I will blog my journey, and I have learnt that sometimes the easiest way to learn something is to read or learn from the tales of someone who has gone before me. Who knows, maybe someone out there will read these meagre words from a searching soul and begin their own quest.  Really, who knows?  Not me.

Last year I was re-united with someone I went to youth group with years ago.  She was (and still is in fact) a blogger, I was instantly jealous. I love writing and believe I have a gift in writing, but how dare someone else write a blog when I haven’t?!  I feel the same about Karaoke, I love singing, but it is such a personal passiony thing that there is no way I can do this as a sport or entertainment. 


So, I thought about it and realised that there was nothing stopping me from blogging myself.  In fact, I spoke about this with a dear friend who has proven very crafty (I do love calling her that, but she is handy with all sorts of craft as opposed to someone who steals money from pensioners - she would never do that) and she started looking into and soon began a blog herself - stealing my idea - so maybe she is crafty...  Anywho...  I felt strange about that. What was stopping me? Nothing. So again, I dillied and I dallied and I wrote a few posts and signed onto Blogger, but was too scarred to publish anything. After a while the heckling from God, myself and my crafty friend got too much and I published some posts and told some people about it. I got a good response. It felt good. 

But, I had restricted myself in what I was going to write about. The topic I chose to explore in my other blog is ‘coolness’ and its elusiveness. It has been a lot of fun and I have learnt a lot of things.  There were some topics I did not want to write about, like children (I feel I am not a very good mother, so why would I hang that out for all to view), craft (any shirt needing buttons gets donated to charity), or householdy things (really, how cool is that?). So I am quite restricted in the topics for that blog, but I will persist, because any writing is good practice.

Then in a time of reflection, that little voice (that is actually enormous, but can be blocked out - you know the one) reminded me about writing my journey to discovering God. Then in a flurry, it all made sense. The first blog was to get me used to being ‘out there’ in cybersphere and to be writing for an audience. This new blog - this is about writing a chronicle of my walk to be closer to God. The ever patient God had waited and taught me stuff as I dilly-dallied around, stumbling for a place in this world - silly me didn’t realise that I was in just the right place at just the right time.

So join me, a scared little thing as I try to be ‘out there’ - out there. This may be a raw ride for me.