I'd been researching the Bethany Hamilton story - it was something that God just dropped into my head in time for an assembly one Thursday - and I came across her little video on the I am Second website. And I am just a big sucker for videos of Christians telling their stories with plinky plonky music in the background (and I also like that I recognise a half dozen of the American footballers and coaches featured on it) and maybe you'll find this one from Bailee Madison a bit too, I dunno, perfect and sweet. But I loved sharing it with Miriam and Theo because, although she sure talks like an adult trapped in a child's body, I think they still see her as a child, speaking on their level, about how following God's normal and regular and everyday.
Tuesday, 24 May 2011
send off
I guess my two children find some measure of security in routines. Bedtimes have followed the same basic pattern pretty much ever since they've been able to listen to a story. As they get older, elements of it get handed over to them to sort out for themselves, for sure, and they've added extra dimensions as their language has grown. But the main planks have always been there. They seem to need a bit of a scripted closure to the day, which for the last few months has been along the lines of Good night, God bless, hope you have sweet dreams about Father God... and since they share a room, it's in a kind of delayed stereo. And I love what they've picked up from us and the new bits they weave in for themselves. I get to say amen to that.
And they're like it in the morning too, to a lesser extent, with little ceremonial farewells, only with more silliness usually. Hope you have a strawberry jam day, daddy... or whatever they've got smeared on their bagels or pitta breads that day (honey and marmite? so help me...) Only Theo's a bit different to Miriam, because he absolutely has to find me to say God bless, I love you, on top of the other stuff. Some days I'll be unlocking the car and I'll hear him behind the front door crying because he thought he didn't quite say it enough times or that I didn't quite hear him. Or I'll look back at the front window and he'll be on the (inside) sill, mouthing it, with a sticky bagel dangling from a finger like one of the rings on that lion King John in the Disney Robin Hood.
But today I must've missed him, because I got a text from him by the time I got to work.
And they're like it in the morning too, to a lesser extent, with little ceremonial farewells, only with more silliness usually. Hope you have a strawberry jam day, daddy... or whatever they've got smeared on their bagels or pitta breads that day (honey and marmite? so help me...) Only Theo's a bit different to Miriam, because he absolutely has to find me to say God bless, I love you, on top of the other stuff. Some days I'll be unlocking the car and I'll hear him behind the front door crying because he thought he didn't quite say it enough times or that I didn't quite hear him. Or I'll look back at the front window and he'll be on the (inside) sill, mouthing it, with a sticky bagel dangling from a finger like one of the rings on that lion King John in the Disney Robin Hood.
But today I must've missed him, because I got a text from him by the time I got to work.
I guess it was the only way Kate could console him. But as well as thinking lots of that's my boy thoughts, it got me thinking about how often I tell my two fathers (my earthly and heavenly ones) how much I love them. And fired me up to do it a lot more. Because if a four year old can be that relentless in his pursuit of getting his heart cry across to his dad, I know I should remember to do it a lot lot more.
Friday, 20 May 2011
Word up
When I listen to Rives, I get this little glimpse into the sheer joy and creative energy that maybe must have been there when God was speaking out Creation by his Word (who turned out to be Jesus all along), his Spirit hovering over the chaos and giving birth to life itself, forming the colour schemes of the peacock and the skin texture of an orca and... ach, enough of me. Listen up to Rives. And dig, the earth is the Lord's and everything in it. Rives included ; ]
Sunday, 15 May 2011
Send to Joppa
So I have this thing about weaving God stories into the everyday. And I can't think precisely why we've been looking at Cornelius and Peter's encounter in Acts 10 this weekend, although it might have been about subconsciously trying to prepare Miriam a bit for her visit to a Muslim neighbour's house, just in case anything came up about food stuff. But I think God wanted us to look at that story at this time for a few other reasons too.
Anyways, it started, as a lot of these things do, with me still lying in bed, and we just used the amazingly bright light of the morning to get them into thinking about what radiant means and why the vision of an angel might have got Cornelius all terrified. And over breakfast we just made do with whatever was lying around. Which in our case means rather a few too many miniature animals. So when it got to the bit about Peter's vision (in our version, he was on top of a flat roof tissue box house on the Joppa side of the kitchen table, with Wendy from Bob the Builder starring as Simon the Tanner's wife, cooking up a lamb tagine down below, delicious smells wafting upwards, God saying so he's hungry, hmmm, maybe I can use that natural thing to help trigger something supernatural) they descended on their sheet three times, and we sorted out stuff that Peter thought he could eat from what he couldn't. And we checked out Deuteronomy 14 to check out why. And wondered how a bat made it onto the list of birds. And I remembered the bit where, as a new Christian, I found the straightlaced footnote about the coney (that is, the hyrax, or rock badger) so funny. I guess you wouldn't want to be there when the laughter stops.
And lots came out of discussing the story with Miriam and Theo. About everyone having a chance to be included in God's family now, and how God moves things on and does stuff in a new way to reach people who are looking for him. And when it gets to the end and Peter says about Cornelius and his household, Well, they've been filled with the Holy Spirit so what's to stop them being baptised? Miriam wondered why she hadn't been baptised yet, and from most of what we asked her, she seemed good and ready, so where do we take that next?
Peter fairly exploded with his good news: "It's God's own truth, nothing could be plainer: God plays no favorites! It makes no difference who you are or where you're from—if you want God and are ready to do as he says, the door is open. The Message he sent to the children of Israel—that through Jesus Christ everything is being put together again—well, he's doing it everywhere, among everyone. [Acts 10:34-36, The Message]
But here's what I think is particularly cool about the timing of our looking at this story where timing (Peter has his vision just in time for the arrival of the men that Cornelius has sent. Meanwhile...) was so crucial.
Our good buds from Manchester, Kev and Emily, were flying back from Israel this weekend. We live pretty close to the M1, which is a decent way of getting north from Luton airport, so they dropped round for a good chunk of Sunday. We got to talk about and see photos of some of what they'd experienced there during the past two weeks. Which included some nice pictures of Joppa (now called Jaffa), which they'd strolled to one evening from Tel Aviv. So, Miriam and Theo, here are two dudes who walked to Joppa, just like in the story...
And, we saw some snapshots of the wildlife too. Big ole catfish in the Jordan River. Terrapins with mud on their shells. And nestled among the stones, just sitting there, scratching itself and looking like a guinea pig on steroids: a coney.
Or hyrax.
Or rock badger.
Anyways, it started, as a lot of these things do, with me still lying in bed, and we just used the amazingly bright light of the morning to get them into thinking about what radiant means and why the vision of an angel might have got Cornelius all terrified. And over breakfast we just made do with whatever was lying around. Which in our case means rather a few too many miniature animals. So when it got to the bit about Peter's vision (in our version, he was on top of a flat roof tissue box house on the Joppa side of the kitchen table, with Wendy from Bob the Builder starring as Simon the Tanner's wife, cooking up a lamb tagine down below, delicious smells wafting upwards, God saying so he's hungry, hmmm, maybe I can use that natural thing to help trigger something supernatural) they descended on their sheet three times, and we sorted out stuff that Peter thought he could eat from what he couldn't. And we checked out Deuteronomy 14 to check out why. And wondered how a bat made it onto the list of birds. And I remembered the bit where, as a new Christian, I found the straightlaced footnote about the coney (that is, the hyrax, or rock badger) so funny. I guess you wouldn't want to be there when the laughter stops.
And lots came out of discussing the story with Miriam and Theo. About everyone having a chance to be included in God's family now, and how God moves things on and does stuff in a new way to reach people who are looking for him. And when it gets to the end and Peter says about Cornelius and his household, Well, they've been filled with the Holy Spirit so what's to stop them being baptised? Miriam wondered why she hadn't been baptised yet, and from most of what we asked her, she seemed good and ready, so where do we take that next?
Peter fairly exploded with his good news: "It's God's own truth, nothing could be plainer: God plays no favorites! It makes no difference who you are or where you're from—if you want God and are ready to do as he says, the door is open. The Message he sent to the children of Israel—that through Jesus Christ everything is being put together again—well, he's doing it everywhere, among everyone. [Acts 10:34-36, The Message]
But here's what I think is particularly cool about the timing of our looking at this story where timing (Peter has his vision just in time for the arrival of the men that Cornelius has sent. Meanwhile...) was so crucial.
Our good buds from Manchester, Kev and Emily, were flying back from Israel this weekend. We live pretty close to the M1, which is a decent way of getting north from Luton airport, so they dropped round for a good chunk of Sunday. We got to talk about and see photos of some of what they'd experienced there during the past two weeks. Which included some nice pictures of Joppa (now called Jaffa), which they'd strolled to one evening from Tel Aviv. So, Miriam and Theo, here are two dudes who walked to Joppa, just like in the story...
And, we saw some snapshots of the wildlife too. Big ole catfish in the Jordan River. Terrapins with mud on their shells. And nestled among the stones, just sitting there, scratching itself and looking like a guinea pig on steroids: a coney.
Or hyrax.
Or rock badger.
Friday, 13 May 2011
Esther Video - Part 1
It’s taken a while to get back into the groove at school this term. All those extra Bank Holidays gave the first couple of weeks a curious end-of-term feel. Stop-start is definitely not helpful for our students, and it gave Theo at home the sense that daddy was mostly around for bouts of wabbadabba (it’s a form of all-in wrestling, with running commentary on the signature moves. He’ll pause, adjust a golden forlock, and announce the flying bomshuffle and the next thing I know he’s mid-air and en route to my windpipe with both feet.) Wabbadabba is also a bit like those fights that Inspector Clouseau and Kato used to have, unannounced, knocking seven bells out of each other and their Parisien apartment, but always with a handshake or bow at the end. At the end we shake hands and say good wabbadabba. It’s also a bit like that movie The Gumball Rally: once the word wabbadabba has been whispered by an eligible player (err, that’s currently me and Theo, but try it out on us sometime, maybe we’ll extend the membership) the other has to respond. Kind of an honour thing. But there I go breaking the first three rules of wabbadabba by talking about it.
Anyway, we got extra time together on that regal Friday too. But I’m not that into the Royals these days, and I didn’t get given a commemorative silver coin at school or a mug, and I didn’t want to get all nostalgic about jubilee street parties in 1977 in colliery towns with my grandparents, although I was wondering if the cameras zoomed in on celebrities like Kevin Keegan or Paul Young arriving at the last one in 1981. And besides, I’m already married to a Kate (fully Katherine Elizabeth) so the vows would’ve been a bit echoey anyway. But vacuums need to be filled, so here’s how we tried to weave God’s word into the everyday that particular morning.
Esther [part 1] from gathering hillmorton on Vimeo.
[So that’s Part 1 in the can. Who knows if we’ll get round to filming the rest. And we’d probably have to skip the Revenge chapter at the end. What’s that all about?]
Anyway, we got extra time together on that regal Friday too. But I’m not that into the Royals these days, and I didn’t get given a commemorative silver coin at school or a mug, and I didn’t want to get all nostalgic about jubilee street parties in 1977 in colliery towns with my grandparents, although I was wondering if the cameras zoomed in on celebrities like Kevin Keegan or Paul Young arriving at the last one in 1981. And besides, I’m already married to a Kate (fully Katherine Elizabeth) so the vows would’ve been a bit echoey anyway. But vacuums need to be filled, so here’s how we tried to weave God’s word into the everyday that particular morning.
Esther [part 1] from gathering hillmorton on Vimeo.
[So that’s Part 1 in the can. Who knows if we’ll get round to filming the rest. And we’d probably have to skip the Revenge chapter at the end. What’s that all about?]
Tuesday, 10 May 2011
Jesus Fill Me
I have been meaning to write for ages, but it's hard to get on the computer these days. I am very out of practise with writing in general, apart from shopping lists and menus. Feel like there's so much to say, but don't really know where to start. Problem is, the longer you leave it, the pressure builds and you can't start because it's got to be amazing! But that's internal pressure I am putting onto myself and at this moment I shake it off like a wet dog. There. That's better. Because it's not about being amazing, funny or profound. It's about being real.
Jesus' friend Paul says that he has this treasure (Jesus, the kingdom, the Holy Spirit, life) in a jar of clay (his body) to show other people and himself that it's not about him. Even our bodies, weak and falling apart as they are, or precisely because of this, can point to God.
Recently I have been thinking about motherhood and how as mothers we pour ourselves out into our children and families. Sometimes it feels as though I don't know who I am or what I want any more. God challenged me about this recently because when I feel empty, God can pour into me more of his life, his grace, his love and joy and his plans because there is more space for him in there now. If I want Christ to be formed in me then I need to understand that this life is not my own, it is his to do what he wants with. The amazing thing is that as soon as we give up our life for Jesus, we get it back again, but in amazing colour (like that video with the tivoli balls boucing down the street in slow motion and the frog leaping out of the drainpipe) and with double, triple and quadruple joy. I love the topsy turvy life that Jesus talks about. Sometimes you catch a glimpse of it when you do something for someone else that should be hard work, but joy wells up inside you instead. He can be trusted, everything he said is true.
One of my favourite bible verses goes something like this: Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart. Isn't it funny that when you are truly delighting in the Lord, then the desires of your heart are more of him! I want more of Jesus in me with my kids, my husband, in the playground and with the people I brush up against every day.
I said I was out of practise with writing, so I probably should have stopped a few lines back. Oh well. 'Til next time...
Jesus' friend Paul says that he has this treasure (Jesus, the kingdom, the Holy Spirit, life) in a jar of clay (his body) to show other people and himself that it's not about him. Even our bodies, weak and falling apart as they are, or precisely because of this, can point to God.
Recently I have been thinking about motherhood and how as mothers we pour ourselves out into our children and families. Sometimes it feels as though I don't know who I am or what I want any more. God challenged me about this recently because when I feel empty, God can pour into me more of his life, his grace, his love and joy and his plans because there is more space for him in there now. If I want Christ to be formed in me then I need to understand that this life is not my own, it is his to do what he wants with. The amazing thing is that as soon as we give up our life for Jesus, we get it back again, but in amazing colour (like that video with the tivoli balls boucing down the street in slow motion and the frog leaping out of the drainpipe) and with double, triple and quadruple joy. I love the topsy turvy life that Jesus talks about. Sometimes you catch a glimpse of it when you do something for someone else that should be hard work, but joy wells up inside you instead. He can be trusted, everything he said is true.
One of my favourite bible verses goes something like this: Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart. Isn't it funny that when you are truly delighting in the Lord, then the desires of your heart are more of him! I want more of Jesus in me with my kids, my husband, in the playground and with the people I brush up against every day.
I said I was out of practise with writing, so I probably should have stopped a few lines back. Oh well. 'Til next time...
Monday, 2 May 2011
Join the dots
I've been using the wingclips.com website to get ideas for assemblies and rich starting points in classwork generally. (At some other point I'll blog about how God's opened the way for me to share some wonderful stuff in assemblies, how He gives me the ground I stand on, how He helps me to flow and connect with the students and staff in those special, sacred gatherings at school.) I guess film distributors also have a new neat way of promoting upcoming releases. They email updates, and I clicked on this one, a testimony from one of the actors in Roland Joffe's There Be Dragons.
And bearing in mind what I blogged about a couple days back (about God showing us a steer in the matter of looking at the heart, not outward appearances), I was just blown away by how he took the everyday things and melted them together yesterday. I mean, it was beautifully orchestrated, if you choose with eyes of faith to join the dots.
I felt prompted to head along to a kind of outreach service that a couple of friends of ours are involved in, a brief scooter ride away (and with a handy park next door for when we turned up early and there weren't bacon butties after all...) So I'm working on my probably very embarrassing freerunning moves on the equipment, and I noticed a guy just resting in the sunshine on the grass slope nearby. And I felt something from God nudging me to talk to him. Because I was just getting these feelings all weekend about connecting with people out on the streets. And also that morning the Spirit had brought to mind Heidi Baker's phrase "Stop for the One" (and also the bit where she was kind of incapacitated by God to show her that she couldn't do things on her own and needed the church to help her.).
Anyway, partway through the service inside I noticed that the guy from the slope was actually sitting beside me, but then Theo and I got playing a pairs game on the floor at the back. We were kind of nipping back to our seats for the kids' bits, then back to the back for tricks from my rucksack of improvised joy. A while later I noticed the guy heading out the door, and God just compelled me to go after him.
I wanted to find out why he'd been, and to let him know that whatever it was he was looking for, Jesus really did have all the answers, even if on the face of it the church didn't. And he stopped, and we talked for ages, and cried, and prayed, and hugged, and there was this Bethel moment throughout the thing, heaven touching earth. So much stuff that he'd been putting in my heart and mind for weeks, even the Wes Bentley video clip I'd seen the day before, just came tumbling out and found its right place and expression. I mean, I was doing some good listening too, it wasn't about packaging a message and heading off, but God also stuck to his promise (which is his nature) to give me the words to speak, because some stuff needed to be said, to bring hope in a dire situation. And I'm praying with everything I've got for what follows from it, for the guy on the slope, and for me.
Out there on the street. With someone who needed to hear it and feel it. With me, the someone who needed to express it to believe it more. Just like he'd been nudging all along. And he was gracious to give me a second chance. But I so want him to help me to hear more clearly the first time, and to have the courage to step out sooner. Because for me, that's the stuff I'm here for.
And bearing in mind what I blogged about a couple days back (about God showing us a steer in the matter of looking at the heart, not outward appearances), I was just blown away by how he took the everyday things and melted them together yesterday. I mean, it was beautifully orchestrated, if you choose with eyes of faith to join the dots.
I felt prompted to head along to a kind of outreach service that a couple of friends of ours are involved in, a brief scooter ride away (and with a handy park next door for when we turned up early and there weren't bacon butties after all...) So I'm working on my probably very embarrassing freerunning moves on the equipment, and I noticed a guy just resting in the sunshine on the grass slope nearby. And I felt something from God nudging me to talk to him. Because I was just getting these feelings all weekend about connecting with people out on the streets. And also that morning the Spirit had brought to mind Heidi Baker's phrase "Stop for the One" (and also the bit where she was kind of incapacitated by God to show her that she couldn't do things on her own and needed the church to help her.).
Anyway, partway through the service inside I noticed that the guy from the slope was actually sitting beside me, but then Theo and I got playing a pairs game on the floor at the back. We were kind of nipping back to our seats for the kids' bits, then back to the back for tricks from my rucksack of improvised joy. A while later I noticed the guy heading out the door, and God just compelled me to go after him.
I wanted to find out why he'd been, and to let him know that whatever it was he was looking for, Jesus really did have all the answers, even if on the face of it the church didn't. And he stopped, and we talked for ages, and cried, and prayed, and hugged, and there was this Bethel moment throughout the thing, heaven touching earth. So much stuff that he'd been putting in my heart and mind for weeks, even the Wes Bentley video clip I'd seen the day before, just came tumbling out and found its right place and expression. I mean, I was doing some good listening too, it wasn't about packaging a message and heading off, but God also stuck to his promise (which is his nature) to give me the words to speak, because some stuff needed to be said, to bring hope in a dire situation. And I'm praying with everything I've got for what follows from it, for the guy on the slope, and for me.
Out there on the street. With someone who needed to hear it and feel it. With me, the someone who needed to express it to believe it more. Just like he'd been nudging all along. And he was gracious to give me a second chance. But I so want him to help me to hear more clearly the first time, and to have the courage to step out sooner. Because for me, that's the stuff I'm here for.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)