The Christmas masterplan

I haven't felt very 'Christmassy' this year. I've decked my tree, wrapped all my presents and made more Christmas cakes than I can count! I thought it was these kind of things that filled you with the Christmas spirit? The only times I have felt a warmth in my heart and butterflies in my tummy this Christmas has been in moments I never would have expected...even for me.

I was brought up on Nativities, carol services, and Bible stories describing what happened at Christmas. I have loved God my whole life and gave my life to Jesus when I was a teenager. I have also been swept up in the side of Christmas that is growing more and more popular where Christmas means time off work with family and presents. Despite my best efforts however, I have never felt the complete impact of the Christmas story until now. It hasn't been a bolt out of the blue as I know the story forwards and backwards, inside and out. And it hasn't been something I promised to really dwell on this year. It has just been something God has been revealing to me in a beautiful gentle way over the past weeks and months. I know why Jesus came as a baby...but to I really understand just what this meant?! I thought I would share a few wee things I have realised and learned about God.

God keeps his promises. At church this Sunday we learned about Jesus' genealogy (which can be found in Matthew chapter 1) which can be traced all the way back to Abraham. He story is well known for a few things but one of the stories most people recall is that God promised Abraham he would have a baby. After many many (many) years, the baby was born. They waited a long time for this promise and for a while it probably seemed like God had forgotten, but this is just one example of how God always keeps His promises.

Did you know that you can read about God promising Jesus back in the time of Adam and Eve? When they sinned, God declared that He would send a saviour (Genesis 3v15) to repair the broken relationship with God and man. This assures me that God has a plan. God always has a plan, and before the dawn of time, He had a plan. He had a plan to save mankind and He has a plan for my life. God is never suprised, never caught out, never stumped at what to do next. Even right back and Genesis when sin first entered the world, He was right there with mercy. He didn't need a few days, months or years to figure out what to do with the mess, and despite the sacrifice He knew He would have to make- he gave it so freely.

I have some friends who have recently had babies. They are the most beautiful wee things and everytime I take the sweet little bundle in my arms I am constantly reminded of how innocent and vulnerable they are. Completely dependent on their parents for love and care. It has really helped me when thinking about Jesus and the tiny baby He once was. I am then struck by the fact that He wasn't always that way, and then I get thinking about where He was before He came to earth.

God's love cannot be fathomed. Jesus was in Heaven and being glorified within the Trinity. He was in the place of perfection. And He was perfection. Why should God have even cared about us? We made the mess, we should live in it. We blew it. We were in a state of utter hopelesness, but why would God want to come all the way down to this rotten world and help us? For me, there isn't much competiton between endless glory, light and perfection and a dark sinful world where the people would ultimately reject, ridicule and kill you. But for the tiny minority that would accept Him, He came. Phillipians 2v6-8 says 'Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.' He emptied Himself, and left His throne in Heaven for me.

For me Jesus in that manger isn't just a cute story. It is the biggest sacrifice in the history of time. This was it. God's masterplan, the promise given hundreds of years ago was finally given. God now had to stand and watch Jesus grow and lead a perfect life. He had to watch Him as He pleaded with people to accept the gift that God was giving them. He watched as He gave sight to the blind, healed the sick and saved the sinners. And He had to watch His broken body hanging from a cross being ridiculed and mocked. Such is His love.

Who has believed what he has heard from us?
And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?
² For he grew up before him like a young plant,
and like a root out of dry ground;
he had no form or majesty that we should look at him,
and no beauty that we should desire him.
³ He was despised and rejected by men;
a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

⁴ Surely he has borne our griefs
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.
⁵ But he was pierced for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his wounds we are healed.
⁶ All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.

 

Isaiah 53v1-6

absent from the body=present with the Lord

Just heard the news of little Caden Beggan; a brave wee boy who fought against meningococcal septicaemia. His story swept through social media and thousands of us anticipated his fathers daily posts telling us of his perilous wee journey. I don't know the family personally, but they live a few streets from me and Caden attended the primary school up my road. It was so hard to read about Caden's broken little body and how this disease robbed him and his family of so much. But the most upsetting thing to me personally was the fact that this wasn't a story that was new to me.

My work with children with complex needs brought me into contact with many families in the same situation. The conditions that attacked their children were all very different, but the sorrow and emotional rollercoaster they had to endure were pretty much identical. I think back to the many times when I walked through the doors at Yorkhill or to the home of a family and was met with sobbing parents who had just lost their child. There is nothing that can compare to the horror.

I have realised that it didn't matter how young they were, the amount they contributed to society or how developed their character was, the loss of a child leaves a gaping hole that no one can comprehend. Nothing has equated to the grief I have felt at the loss of a child, and as someone who doesn't even have children of my own, I cannot comprehend how far reaching the sorrow is for the family and especially for the parents who have brought them into the world and raised them.
 
As I have joined the world in looking on as Caden fought for his life, I was always thinking about the many other families in our community who are going through the exact same struggle. Caden was in Yorkhill with countless other children with their lives in the balance. Caden's family did a geat job in raising awareness and lifting people out of their own self absorbed bubbles. I just hope that Cadens little legacy will cause us to be more mindful of all the other families who are going through the same circumstances without the well wishes of thousands...I'm sure it's what the Beggans would hope to achieve through their honest and candid deocumenting of Caden's fight.

One thing that we can have hope and rejoice in is that Caden is not sleeping, or even resting. He is whole, and in glory with his Heavenly Father along with the other precious children I have loved and lost. In God's mercy, He has taken Caden and restored him to Himself in a body that is so complete and pure and He is in a place that supercedes anything on this broken and fallen earth. Caden's parents will also see him again because they have found salvation in Jesus and nothing can take that from them. It is just a pity that they will have to wait a while longer. But for those who hope in God can look forward to the day when 'He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.' Revelation 21v4.

 

There's a peace I've come to know though my heart and flesh may fail. There's an anchor for my soul, I can say it is well.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9yvfso4Q8xg

Life on life and playing in between.

As I sat in Business Gateway a couple of weeks ago, I paused and actually realised what I was doing. I've been asked the usual question before; 'What would be your dream job?' To which I would explain having my own wee business doing something creative would be a lovely way to spend my career. It is never something I ever felt brave enough to do though  since I have zero comprehension of how to run a business.

As I was speaking to the pleasant business advisor, I revealed that I have more or less stumbled upon this venture due to the changes of my health meaning I couldn't do my old job. He asked what I used to do and I began to explain. He remarked that I looked as if I was about to cry- and he was right. I wasn't sure if I was hurting or just reflecting fondly...Whatever it was, I told him that I didn't really want to talk about it more than I had to.
It has been about a year since I was a playworker for children with complex needs and I haven't really thought about it too much, partly because I want to move forward and partly because it just makes me too sad.

I remember my first visit to a family home which soon became a house I visited three times a week. The family had two disabled children fighting the same terminal disease.  The house was over run with nurses and home helps. The situation was very extreme, but a very real picture of what life can be like with a disabled child. I was assigned to work with the youngest who was only two at the time. I remember staring at her wondering how on earth I could play with her...She couldn't open her eyes, communicate, move or even breathe on her own and I couldn't move her too much because her bones were too brittle due to osteoporosis. I was stumped. I often sat at my desk with my head in my hands thinking of ideas and I thankfully had some very talented and wise colleagues who offered advice and encouragement. I soon developed a beautiful routine of the hungry caterpillar story, making it come to life each time through sensory objects.We repeated it for weeks on end. I would climb on the bed and lie close to her and watch for any signs of communication. Her family, nurses and anyone else in the house would rejoice when she closed her lips as this meant she was responding. It was all she gave us but it meant so much.

I remember when she passed away. Her dad phoned me in the early morning before I even left for work. I spent the weekend with the family and tried to support them with their grief; and sought to glean some support for mine. She was buried with the little caterpillar we made from eggboxes and I remember feeling so conflicted between maintaining a certain level of professionalism and being utterly devastated.

I remember every child I've worked with. Their siblings names, their parents names, grandparents, family friends, even wee Margaret/ Jan/ Ina etc who lived next door. Each child has been so precious to me and I treasure all their wee ways. I am thankful that despite the often difficult circumstances I witnessed, my job was far from depressing. The fact I was accepted into so many family homes was something I never took for granted. There were some places where I turned up, spent time with the kid doing lovely things and leave again, but there were also some families who I really got to know and love. I just hope they know just how much I genuinely cared and the tremendous affection I had for their wee ones.

Nothing would compare to having a visually impared child track an object with their eyes, a child with no communication utter their first sound or give a sign, or have an autistic child look at me in the eye. My greatest priviledge however was showing God's love to these kids. There were some families which allowed me to spend some still quiet moments before my play sessions with them in prayer. We would pray for fun, our friendship and healing. Towards the end of my time with my work the families actually prayed for my healing too. That was truely humbling.

At Harvest we always talk about doing life on life with one another and I really believe that's what worked best in my job. The children didn't care about my status or what my job was, they just wanted to play with me. The parents wanted to know about me and my life and it was this two-way relationship that made it real. I cried when they cried, shared in their wee victories and flicked through holiday photos. Parents don't just want a professional giving them solutions, they want someone who genuinely cares about their children.

I wasn't the best playworker in the world. I could be disorganised, forgetful and my time keeping was skills were often questionable. I am not irreplaceable and all the families will no doubt survive without me! But I have struggled with knowing what God was doing by taking this away from me. But one thing I do know is that I can trust Him. I am called to glorify God and live my life for Him above all else and in return, He is teaching me amazing things along the way.

Although I miss my old job, I am thankful I have been blessed with something I enjoy just as much. I haven't had to resort to some rubbish job that I hate; I have the opportunity to be creative which is a huge part of who I am. This is one of the reasons I can say that God is good! God has sustained me through much and the Bible says that He gives and takes away. I have full assurance and peace in my heart of God's good and perfect plan. Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life.

It's looking like a beautiful day.

It was two years ago today that I became a married woman. I think about my wedding day a lot and the past few days leading up to my anniversary has caused me to recall vivid memories of what I was doing in the build up to my special day. In some respects, I would like that part of my life to remain frozen so I could relive it again and again, but if that happened then I would be able to experience all the joys that came with being a wife afterwards.

Wedding planning commenced the day after I got engaged (only because the shops were not open that night to buy all my wedding magazines). I spent hours in shops, magazines and the internet sourcing the perfect touches for my perfect day. I look back fondly at the hours I spent sitting on the livingroom floor sewing pearls onto strands of lace, creating my wooden love heart favours and cutting out pictures for my scrapbook. I loved every minute of planning my wedding as it was a time I could be creative and anticipate the day I would marry my lovely Jonny.

The wedding day brought feelings that I had never felt before. I had an overwhelming happiness inside me and a peace about the step I was taking. I felt so grateful looking round at all the people who were there to support us, and most of all, I was excited about the future. I remember how heavy my dress was with the abundance of lace and pearls, I remember how I couldn't stop crying at the ceremony although I felt utterly relaxed. I remember my bridesmaid Gill running and getting me a snack pack of grapes after the service and how I pinched my sisters bum during the pictures. I remember the brass band which played whilst our guest sipped pink champagne in the garden. I remember how proud I was with my normally shy husband as he spoke so eloquently during his speech and I remember how my dancefloor was packed to the point of overflowing the entire night thanks to our nine-piece funk band. I also remember how the drummer's wife went into labour and he ran off without a backwards glance. Luckily one of the singers stepped in and it didn't hinder the heaving dancefloor.

My wedding day (like everyone else's) flew by all too quickly. But the wedding day is just the beginning. I had plenty anxieties about married life (not about Jonny!) I wondered if I would be able to be the wife Jonny needed, and the wife that God desired for me to be. I wondered how we would cope with being a married couple, living together and sharing everything. I would say that our marriage has certainly been thrown into the deep end in the past two years. A couple of months after the wedding, we celebrated the birth of our precious nephew Charlie, which was quickly overshadowed by nearly losing my sister to heart failure. We lost Jonny's Baba that Christmas who was an incredible woman and a huge part of his life. We were then faced with the decline of my health and eventual loss of my job. All of these things have affected us greatly and could have potentially caused our relationship to become vulnerable during our first couple years of marriage. But God has graciously sustained us, and even more; He has helped us grow even closer.

One of the important things I have learned about marriage is that you have to be selfless. My relationship with Jonny works best when we are not selfish. We try to serve one another in love and be willing to put our own needs second. This is something that Jonny has excelled in and is a real evidence of Gods grace in his life. My husband has stepped up to the mark time and time again to help me, look after me and protect me often to the expense of his own interests. I appreciate the ways he puts me first and has cared for me especially through my illness. He is a patient and kind man and I know that God has grown these fruits within him as we have went through our marriage. God has proved his faithfulness to us over and over and has shown us that being in a Godly marriage will bring the abundance of blessings. Jonny and I believe that God created marriage and that we are to honour Him in it, this in turn has shown us that God's plan and desire for marriage is perfect.

I love being married to Jonny. I am thankful for the way he fulfils his responsibilities towards God, how he continually shows his love and support to me and encourages me with the Bible and prayer. He is my best friend and I celebrate him today.

Visual Noise

Just sitting watching a programme on channel 4 called 'The hoarder next door'. I find myself fidgeting and feeling stressed just by watching it. There have been quite a few programmes lately about hoarders and I find myself quite fascinated by it. This is probably because I am probably near the opposite end of the spectrum. A lot of people have commented on my tidy wee house and how I see my housework as such a great priority. Even since falling ill, I have tried my hardest to keep my house clean and uniform. Jonny regularly has to ask me where things are because he can only sit something down for a short time before I move it.

I watch in utter amazement and moderate horror as the people in these programmes show us around their house. Their rooms are packed and every surface is covered. One poor wee woman sits in the midst of her hoard and sobs at the pretty hopless situation she finds herself in. I feel like sobbing with her as I wouldn't even know where to start. I also find myself sitting in my own wee livingroom glancing every few minutes at a pen and a road map that are sitting on my sideboard and feel a bit resltess...I promptly tell myself to get a grip and gain a bit of perspective by returning to the programme.

What's more, I have become very aware of clutter and mess through my work with visually impaired children. Constantly being aware of keeping spaces clear so the children can focus on what needs to be seen has caused me to be annoyingly particular at home too. A therapist guy comes in and shuffles around the womans house and describes it as visual noise. He hits the nail on the head. I feel panicky looking at it and think my visual eardrums are about to burst. And yet, the dear wee woman is weeping as someone tries to throw out a duster as they help her clean. I wonder how on earth she can get so emotional over such an insignificant thing...but we all do it.

We all have things that we convince ourselves we need. Maybe not always physical things, but people, or places, or events etc. I may have a tidy house, but I will clutter my life with other things. For me it was mainly being places and involving myself in things. I hated (and still hate) missing out on things. Before I fell ill, I was out every night of the week, hanging out with friends, invovled in church, exercise classes, shopping or whatever else. When I fell ill, I found it very hard to say no. I felt like the wee lady sobbing over the duster, thinking the world would end if I didn't go to that place or be involved in this thing.

It caused me to re-think what I fill my life with, what is important, and what I really can't live without. I found that the more I cluttered my life, the less time I spent with God. I need to be careful what I fill my life and mind with. Even if I fill my life with hundreds of friends, a packed diary and a house full of pretty things, it is empty without God. Don't get me wrong, it is good to have friends (and I love you all) and be involved in various things, but only God can make me whole and complete.

I don't know what you fill your life with, but ask yourself if you are filling it with the right things. You will not be able to take your precious posessions, your success, even your precious people with you when you die. It is important to fill your life with something eternal and everlasting. God brings peace, fufilment and clarity.




My hallway. No visual noise here! lol

Time to go deeper...

It is the common view that man is inherently good. I would probably be inclined to think otherwise. People also share the common view that if they are a good person they will go to heaven when they die. This isn't true either. People are sinful. The Bible says that 'The human heart is the most deceitful of all things, and desperately wicked. Who really knows how bad it is?' (Jeremiah 17v9). Does this sound like this kind of heart would belong to someone that would get into Heaven?

God cannot allow sin or sinful people into Heaven as it is where He dwells and it is therefore holy. No amount of good you do will blot out the wickedness that dwells in your heart... So you might think that wicked is a strong word-it couldn't possibly be used to describe someone like you (or me). And to our human way of thinking, you are probably right...but isn't what God thinks of the matter far more important? And true?

How many lies do you have to tell to be a liar? Or how many times do you have to talk bad of someone behind their back to be a backstabber? How many times do you have to have to use the Lord's name in vain in order to be a blasphemer? Only once. Only once. And only once.

Ok, you might think that's pretty heavy. And taking it pretty far. But is that not the problem? We don't stop and think how God looks upon our sinfulness. Because He treats it very seriously.  God says in Romans 6v23 that 'the wages of sin is death.' That is the penalty. Because God cannot look upon sin, he cannot tolerate it, and he certainly cannot allow it in His presence. Every lie I have told (which have been countless), every time I have talked about someone behind their back (yes, loads) and every time I have ridiculed, disrespected and rebelled against God has been enough to condemn me to an eternity seperated from Him.

This is is the moment where I close my eyes and thank God that He had a plan. He had a way out. God sent Jesus. God is just and so when He says the penalty for sin is death, He means it. This doesn't just mean a physical death, it is a spiritual death, it is seperation from God when you die. God loved me (and you) so much that He was willing to send a substitute to take our place so we could be right with Him again. Jesus is the sacrifice. I don't know about you, but there are very few people I would be willing to die for. If I was asked to die for my husband who is the love of my life, then yeah, I probably would. If I was asked to die for my darling baby nephew who lights up my life, or my sister who is my best friend, then yeah, ok...If I was asked to die for someone who had repeatedly wronged me and persecuted me, then I don't think it wouldn't even be up for debate, I would just refuse.

'But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.' (Romans 5v8) Can you fully comprehend how much God loves you? Despite our complete disregard and rebellion against Him? Can you look at the cross and see the love in Christ's sacrifice? It was through His death that the penalty was paid. A preacher once described it like this- if you had a £10billion debt to pay and someone came along and offered to pay it in full, why wouldn't you let him pay it? What gratitude would you feel? Would that not change your life?

There is no amount of good works you can do, no amount of religious practices you can tick off your list that will give you right standing with God. It is so much simpler than that. All God requires of you is to accept His gift to you and allow it to transform you.  ^'For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God' (Ephesians 2v8) This is why I say I have grace, because I have accepted this free gift and my life has never been the same.

More than giving you right-standing before God, and an eternity in Heaven, God also wants to give you a life free from the bondage and penalty of sin. Although I still sin (all the time, because I'm human) God now looks upon me as righteous and forgiven because I have trusted in Jesus. What Grace! What utterly mind-blowing truely undeserved love.

If you are reading this and you haven't accepted Jesus, then I plead with you to search your heart this Easter. I challenge you to go deeper this Easter. Because eternity is on the line. God can show you a love like no other and give you a purpose that is everlasting. What do you have to lose? Apart from your eternity.

If you were the only person in the history of mankind that sinned, the only person who ever rebelled against God, he still would have sacrificed Jesus and have him bleed to death on a cross to save your soul. That is how much your mighty, powerful, holy creator God loves you.

Take a couple of minutes to watch this video (coz that's how long it lasts!) and please get in touch if you know you need to go deeper this Easter.

 http://youtu.be/dWgB8r_xhA0

A big noggin and a painful problem.

Well, today is nearly done and my eyes are that kind of way when they are dried in your sockets. However, I feel that I need to write because I have so many thoughts swirling about in my noggin'. For any people that know me well, they will know (or notice) that I have an abnormally large head. This can be pretty problematic for buying fashionable head-gear which is why I don't wear hats. I think it also contributes to the fact I have a pretty huge amount of thoughts dancing around my head.

And now-in an attempt to distract you from thinking about my large head- I think I'd find it helpful to put some of my thoughts to paper (or to screen since it's an online blog.) I was at neurology today for a consultation. It went ok- apart from the fact I received multiple pin pricks to my face and body to test if I could feel them...and in most places, I certainly could :(  Anyway, he is sending me for an MRI scan and a nerve conduction test. These will ultimately show if the problem with my pain lies in with my brain/nerves/spine. The neurologist thinks it will come back clear, and I'm pretty confident they will too, but I am pleased to be getting these tests done as it will at least rule out that area.

I have received a diagnosis from rhumatology of joint hypermobility syndrome. This means I have an abnormality with the collagen in my body, causing my connective tissues to be extremely loose. It can also affect connective tissues in other areas like your lungs and bowels. As a result, the other areas of my body have to work harder to maintain stability and strength. As you can imagine, this can cause a great deal of pain and exhaustion. I accept this diagnosis but since very little is known about this condition, I'm not really getting the amount of support or information I need.

I was referred to neurology a while back and thought I would still go because there is no harm in ruling other things out. I also have wee niggly feelings now and again that there could be something in addition to my hypermobility and so would like for my mind to be put at ease. I often convince myself that I am just a hypocondriac or foolish (and maybe I am), but then again, I feel like I owe it to myself to search out every possible avenue and leave no stone uncovered.

I have tried to reseach hypermobility syndrome on the internet since I have received very little info from medical professionals. This presents a problem because you have to be very discerning of validity of the material you read. Most articles and sites I have came across acknowledge that a major symptom of the syndrome is pain. But I have yet to find a site that would describe pain similar to my own. Most sites seem to imply that you can still lead a relatively normal life, work, dance, carry, deliver and raise children and exercise.

Either I'm a total woose, or the pain I experience is different to most experiences. I would probably argue the latter. I have been unable to work since last summer and my gentle physio exercises leave me in a lot of pain unlike the runners, dancers and athletes in these case studies who can still maintain an active lifestyle.

This condition has changed me an awful lot. And I am still struggling to get to grips with it, understand it, and gain control of it. I have the joy and privilege to hand this burden to God every day, and He is faithful in His provision. But of course, I desperately want, and need a way of intervention with the daily pain too. I believe God gives us doctors to help us with these things and I see nothing wrong with having hope that doctors will give me a solution to my physical struggle.

I also believe that God can remove this completely if He chooses- and I am most certainly believing and praying for that too. But one thing God does in times like these which no doctor can do, is heal and transform my heart and my soul. I often return home from appointments restless, and utterly deflated as it often provides no answers or hope of treatment. Doctors tell us there is nothing they can do and we are left to our own thoughts at home. But God is there when I get home and can still my restless heart. God can see every pang of anxiety, and speak into every area of doubt.

We often forget the devastating toll a chronic illness can have on people emotionally as well as physically. I'm trusting God will use the doctors to deal with the physical illness. And God can take care of my heart.

Me on the left...this was the last time I wore a hat before my head expanded due to being crammed with thoughts...

We're on the move.

Many people know that I go to church. And not just any church- I go to Harvest Bible Chapel Glasgow. If you don't know this about me then you have probably been living under a rock. I hope that from the way I talk about my church you will know that it is unlike others- I was certainly intrigued upon my first visit.

Many churches boast of a fellowship that goes back hundreds of years. A history of serving their community and seeing countless marriages, baptisms and transformed lives entering and leaving through their doors. Most churches have spectacular buildings displaying amazing architecture and stained-glass windows. I sometimes wonder what would happen to those churches if the bricks and mortar were taken from them? Because that's what is happening to us.

Harvest is only a baby in comparison to these grandfather churches. It was planted only two and a half years ago by a handful of people led by a brave pastor and it has grown into a tender shoot. God has been so gracious in cultivating it and has done remarkable things in this short space of time. Harvest has found its home in the Graham Hills building at Strathclyde Uni in the centre of Glasgow. It has no stained glass windows, pews, or stunning arches. It doesn't even have a pulpit (as if Pastor Scott would use it anyway...) Nevertheless, this building has served us well as our wee home. But we are losing the lease in 4 weeks.

Jonny and I had a time of prayer last night for the building situation. We quickly found ourselves just giving thanks for our church and for everything that God has done through it. Harvest has taught Jonny and I a great deal and has supported us through our marriage nearly two years ago, the life threatening episode with my sister, and my recent decline in health. They have allowed us to use and nurture our gifts and have supported us through difficult times. We have been shown love in so many practical ways and have made so many close friends. Harvest has taught me about serving, giving, loving and humility and most of all, taught me about what it means to walk close to God.

All these things have not been dependant on the building. This is because the church isn't a building, it is the people. And so no matter where we end up we will still be the church. The other thing I love about my church is that we love a challenge. This is usually seen at Party with the Pastor during the games- but it is mostly because we want to fully rely on God's grace and marvel at His works. And so we are actually quite excited about what God is going to do in this, knowing that He is able to do more than we could ever ask or hope.

Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.

Hebrews 10v23-25.


Even though we will be moving, you should still visit us wherever we are!

www.vimeo.com/27713001
This is my church.

This is what I know.

I'm sitting here tonight after a morning of hydrotherapy (physio in a swimming pool.) I was only in for about half an hour doing things like walking from one side of the pool to the other and performing wee squats etc. Extremely basic, and extremely slow. I felt quite good afterwards, I had achieved a great deal and felt quite energised. But I think I can now honestly say I am dying...

...Ok that is a bit dramatic, but I am certainly hurting. It's not even the achy muscle type that you kind of enjoy because you know it means you're on your way to having a body like Megan Fox (it could still happen!) It's a lot deeper than that and has sucked the energy right out of me. It's the kind of pain which has made me terrified to exercise; although I've always been a gym-o-phobe... However, I will go back next week and persevere with it because I'm hoping that it'll make a difference.

My pain is pretty much constant. For the people who see me on a regular basis, I'll more than likely be feeling sore when I'm with you. Whether it's walking about the shops, or sitting eating cake- although I must stress that it is not the cakes fault I am sore...so there is absolutely no need to withhold cake from me. Thankyou.

Being in pain all the time is exhausting, and it changes a lot in your life. My ability to do the things I once loved (go long walks, shop for hours, wear high heels), the relationships I have (my ability to lift my nephew and get on the floor and play with him) and my job too. I don't know what to expect with the future now and to be honest, I find that totally poo.

So someone like me who professes to have a very profound faith in God can cause onlookers to ask where God fits in with it all. Has He forgotten me or stopped caring about the fact that I feel sore today? Well, I read a tremendous quote in a book a month or two ago and I am constantly calling it to mind.

‎Are you going to judge God by the circumstances you don't understand or judge the circumstances in the light of the character of God?

Yeah...Told you it was tremendous...and if you just skimmed that quote then go back and read it again! How often do we judge God according to our circumstances? When everything is great, God is great. When everything seems bad, God is bad. We (and I) are so fickle! But God's word says that He is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13v8)

It is time to stop judging things by our circumstances, and living in the light of what we know about God. When things are difficult, it helps to stop thinking about how we feel, and think about what we know.

So here is what I know-

I can cast my anxiety on Him because He cares for me (1 Peter 5v7)

He will never leave me, or forsake me. (Hebrews 13v5)

He gives strength to me and blesses me with peace (29v11)

He is a rock, a fortress and my deliverer (Psalm 18v1)

His way is perfect and His word is flawless (Psalm 18v30)

He remains faithful even when I don't, because He can't break His promise (2 Timothy 2v13)

His grace is sufficient for me and His power is made perfect in my weakness (2 Corinthians 12v9)

He will meet all my needs (Phillipians 4v19)

God is good. And He cares for me. (Nahum 1v7)

All of these promises are applicable for you if you trust in Him. God can and wants to give you all these promises. If you don't know about God and spend all your time going through life based on how you feel, maybe you could try looking into what it means living a life guided lovingly by God.

Even if I hardly know you, we can do it together :)

Exhibit A- Cupcakes which are perfectly harmless for sore bodies.

How good it is to be loved by you...

My thoughts today have been provoked by an article in the Sun newspaper. The article was about a couple of former Oxford University research associates who argued that the right to kill newborn children should be legalised. There isn't really much point in me elaborating on their claims as there is nothing that could have possibly helped them justify it. I often wonder why seemingly intelligent individuals come out with stuff like this. You sometimes wonder if they desire to go against all human morality in order to come across as being enlightened to some sort of notion that we are not smart enough to realise. Why is it so uncool to follow our conscience these days (and unltimately, God) and constantly try and second guess what our instinct and knowledge of right and wrong would tell us?  

The part that stung me most about this article was the fact that they used disability as the example for slaughtering a child. This is a complete bone of contention with me when they use disabled children to justify things like abortion and now this. I am not claiming having a disabled child is easy and without its burdens and heartache- believe me, I have seen every facet of difficulty you could come up against. But since when does a disabled child equate to second best? And since when does it mean they do not deserve basic human rights? And since when does it mean they are not a completely precious creation, deserving of love and life? The article states that they should be allowed to kill a child if they put an 'unbearable burden' on their family or society. What?? How can you predict how much of a burden a child can be when they are minutes old? And yes, families have expressed in the past that having a disabled child can be a burden, but never unbearable. On the contrary the love these parents display can only be described as unconditional.

I always find this kind of thing hard to get my head around since children like these have been responsible for so many blessings I have received in my life. I also get very angry at this kind of thing because never once in my 8 years of working with disabled children have I came across one who is judgemental, or prejudiced, or pushes me aside because I have red hair, a sizeable nose or because I'm not a size 8. (Don't get me wrong, they have brushed me aside if the games I want them to play are mince. lol) These children can still make you laugh, make you feel loved and special and can still make you tilt your head to the side and sigh because they are so damn cute.

But this is the point, why is it about what these children can do for us? How they make us feel? How they will contribute to the family? Or how good looking or easy they will make our lives? The newpaper article stated that the academics (loose term) claimed that "the interests of actual people over-ride the interest of merely potential people. Since non-persons have no moral rights to life, there are no reasons for banning after-birth abortions". (The Sun, 1/3/12)

What makes us so important that we can decide the mortality of a child? Having a child, knowing a child or working with a child is about what we can do for them, not the other way around. Isn't this the complete reflection of the way God is with us? Our relationship with God isn't about how great we are or the Great things we can do. Our salvation hangs on the fact because we weren't, Christ died for us. I was completely dead in my trespasses and useless and sinful, yet God took me as His. What Grace! How can we reject any child when they don't deserve it, when God doesn't reject us when we completely deserve it?

How can we treat a human life as disposable and completely meaningless when the creator of the universe finds little old me (and you) so completely precious. Did you know when God First loved you? Before the universe was made. Did you know who was with you and formed you and loved you when you were a seemingly 'meaningless' ball of cells in your mothers womb? Your heavenly father.

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body
      and knit me together in my mother’s womb.
  Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!
      Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it.
 You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion,
      as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.
  You saw me before I was born.
      Every day of my life was recorded in your book.
   Every moment was laid out
      before a single day had passed.

  How precious are your thoughts about me, O God.
      They cannot be numbered!
  I can’t even count them;
      they outnumber the grains of sand!
   And when I wake up,
      you are still with me...

Psalm 139v13-18

Plan B

Just sitting reflecting on the visit I have just had from my boss. She came over to catch up with how I was getting on and review how things were looking with my job.

I have worked for the same organisation since I left school. It is an organisation that works with children and adults with complex support needs. I started out as a support worker, which involved caring for children in a daycare and respite context. I then developed an interest in the way these children played and became a playworker whilst studying play at Uni. The experiences and times I have shared with the children I have worked with have been truely unique and incredibly special.

I remember all the kids I have worked with and all of them are precious to me. They have taught me amazing things and brightened up many gloomy days. I have developed many close relationships with the families over the years and in some instances been treated like family. I am well acquainted with many grandparents, aunts, uncles and family friends as well as the parents.

When I think about the work I do, I think about sunny afternoons playing in back gardens and trampolines, rejoicing and celebrating with parents at little breakthroughs and quiet moments cradling children in my arms. It really is a sweet and wonderful job to do and I really do miss it.

Things are quite different now and at the moment, the prospect of returning to work seems very distant indeed. My job is highly practical and when I'm not rolling about on the floor with an autistic child, I am cradling a deafblind child on my knee carrying out a tactile activity. This kind of work is pretty much impossible for me to do now- and this is my dilemma.

My work have been amazing at holding my job for me with the hope that I can return- but time is running out. It was basically confirmed today by my boss that they may have to dismiss me due to ill health if I don't show any signs of improvement in the next few months. I can understand and appreciate that it is only fair, and my work have been extremely accommodating up until now, but it is a bit of a blow.

It has forced me to consider alternatives- but at the moment I'm struggling to find any! I am good with kids. And I love kids. Working with children is pretty much all I've ever done, and all I have ever wanted to do. I never thought I would have to reconsider it.

So what can I do? Should I look into different courses and study? Or should I look for a different job? Or should I become a housewife and scrape by with the bills? lol. All of the above are viable options, but none are presenting themselves as the obvious option.

I would say that I'm good with a lot of things, but a master of none. And so there is no obvious career route I would say I could go down. And I therefore propose this- If you feel there is something you think I could pursue (it has to be a viable option mind!) please submit your suggestions. Please note that I am not a brave or particularly ambitious person and I am not very good at business-type things. lol. (and if that doesn't rule out everything, please let me know!)

I have not yet resigned myself to the fact that I will not be able to work with children again, but I feel it is time to establish a plan B (and possibly C and D depending on how many ideas I get!) And if you are the praying type, (and if you're not you should be) I would appreciate prayers too of course.

Me in play mode-it is a very serious business you know...

How to be prepared for a dinosaur attack

Today I have been thinking about bags. Not the ghastly ones that hang under your eyes, but the ones that carry our essential possessions. I have always been more of a bag girl that a shoe girl. Although I often pause in appreciation of a red-soled Louboutin, I could never justify paying for them. However, I have a long list of justifications splurging on a handbag: A handbag will see the light of day more than a skyscraper heel, it is actually functional and carries stuff for you, and it doesn't give you blisters.

I have appreciation for all species of bag, and all would be welcome in my wardrobe. I am partial to a good sized tote. Maybe something like the Mulberry Daria Hobo bag. Big enough for all my trinkets and leather as soft as butter.

I also wonder what people carry in their bag. Men seem to regard it as a mystery and a complete no-no to rummage in a womans bag-I don't know if they maybe think they would get sucked in an drown in a pile of dried out lipglosses and receipts...But I can sometimes look upon it as a bit of a mystery with certain women and their bags too- none more so that the rucksack lady.

I was sitting in the homeopathic hospital yesterday and a rucksack lady sat down across from me in the waiting room. My heart sank a little as I knew that I would then spend the rest of my time in there fighting sheer perplexion and urges to rip open the bag and survey the contents. It was a big rucksack and my mind started racing, wondering with what things she had with her to cause her to have a bag so uneccessarily large.

My bag usually consists of the following- my purse (for emergencies and impulse buys), a bombay mix of pain killers (for gammy legs), tissues (in case someone kicks my shin and I need to cry, or I see something really cute like a micro pig causing me to well up), a pen (just because it is a female requirement) and my phone (for emergencies, correspondence with friends and to fiddle with when I am distracted with rucksack ladies).

I think the contents of my bag are pretty appropriate for every eventuality. So it makes me nervous to look at a woman with a rucksack. Does she know something I don't? Is she prepared for a certain circumstance that I'm not? For example, if there was a giant earthquake and a dinosaur started tearing through the westend where I was currently situated, what would I do? Well, I would go to the nearest vending machine for food and water supplies using my purse, take some pain killers for inevetable injuries, use tissues to mop up my dusty face, and take a picture of the dinosaur with my phone to show Jonny when I get home.

Don't get me wrong, I do believe that rucksacks are appropriate for certain occasions- Like hillwalking. You need maps, spare socks, food, torches, blah blah blah. Do women really need that when they are out and about the town? Surely they'll go home in a few hours so they wont need a tent? I do have a couple of friends that use rucksacks, but I have always been a bit shy about asking them about the contents as there seems to be an extra aura of mystery surrounding rucksacks than you would get with regular bags.

I also see men with rucksacks which to a certain extent concerns me more. Most men I know are like my husband who carries a wallet and a phone in his pocket. Do these rucksack men and women look upon us 'light loaders' as foolish? unprepared? Sometimes I sit and despair about my lack of knowledge of rucksacks...

For those who have been sucked into my fascination with rucksacks, I am please to tell you that the rucksack lady at the hospital did indeed open her rucksack and proceeded to lift something out...

It was a banana.

This is my hypothetical illustration. Notice how the rucksack lady has a fort and I only have a Mars Bar. Bums.

Oh, Happy Day!

Ever since I was small, I have loved dancing. I remember dancing about in the living room in my nightie with my sister to Gloria Estefan and Kylie. As I got older, my mum enrolled us in our local dance class. Jo and I faithfully attended and bled my mum dry of money paying for it. So she was excited to see her money pay off when we finally performed in our wee show. But I refused to do it. I was terrified of being on stage.

I have a couple of friends who are qualified dancers. I always find it funny how you can qualify in something so intrinsic- but I know they would argue that it is not the qualification that makes them a dancer, it's the love of doing it. Anyway, I still love to dance. As I mentioned before, I danced the entire night at my wedding- some would say in a rather undignified manner since I had my dress hitched up to my knees and I took a rather ungraceful tumble onto my backside. I also hasten to add that I only had two alcoholic drinks the entire day! But I couldn't help but dance all night because I was bursting with happiness and it was probably a rather accurate portrayal of how I was feeling inside ie- explosive and hyper! I can dance happily for hours on end.

One form of dancing that isn't to my taste is ceilidh.... I know there will be a few gasps from people that read this! I enjoy the tradition of it etc, but the repetition, twirling, awkward social interaction and barely having room to move does not suit me. I'm more freestyle. lol.

So we were at a wedding celebration at the weekend. And it was a ceilidh. Normally I would have grumbled a bit but since I now have my stick and delightful way of shuffling, I was confident that dancing partners would steer clear. I also was happy to go to this ceilidh because it was in honour of two very precious friends. I had a crackin' night just sitting with my friends, catching up and watching everyone else twirling, glad it wasn't me. However, I did look on feeling a bit disappointed at the fact that I can no longer really dance full stop. But then God showed me something...

The ceilidh band were a christian band that had played at some parties I had been to before. They often play very modern songs to ceilidh dance to so they are entertaining even if you are not dancing. So loads of people were up on the dance floor swinging one another about and the band decides to break into 'Happy Day' by Tim Hughes (if you don't know it then have a listen). All of a sudden, a joy came over me as I watched them. It was brilliant watching people dancing with such fervour and enjoyment to a song about God. I felt the atmosphere step up a gear to even more heightened energy and gusto. I sat at the side singing away and it made me think of what it was going to be like in heaven. There will be singing, rejoicing and dancing and joy untold. We will also have new bodies, (which is probably a good thing coz my heart would probably explode) and no matter how difficult it may be for me to dance at the moment, there will come a day where there will be absolutely nothing holding me back from jumping and dancing and rejoicing in everything God has done for me. God is being so faithful in reminding me of the joy that is in store for those who love Him.

'When I stand in that place, free at last meeting face to face; I am yours, Jesus, you are mine. Endless joy and perfect peace, earthly pain finally will cease. Celebrate Jesus is alive...Oh Happy day, you washed my sin away!'

Listen to Happy Day and be joyful!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IVxS3xyGBOQ

Why talk when you can sing...

Most of you will know that my family is pretty musical. I grew up in a very noisy house (a pretty mandatory condition since we were Flynns.) Singing is my thing- and I'm glad it is. It is a cheap hobby; Unlike my siblings who have had to buy all manner of instruments to pursue their passion. The rooms in my mum and dads house are littered with musical things and you are guaranteed to find some sort of instrument to fiddle with. Drums, guitars, saxophones, tin whistle, piano (and contrary to popular belief, there are no trumpets) .... Even my walking stick has been dismantled and played like a flute.

But as for my musical passion, it is very easy. It is compact and I don't have to carry my voicebox around in a big case. So this makes me glad. I am not one of those mental people you see on X-Factor who insist they will die if they don't get to boot camp- but I would say singing is very very important to me.

Being a playworker for children, I have learned many colourful songs and developed the art of making up songs on the spot to aid your activity or the point you are trying to make. Since I am off my work, my nephew Charlie gets the full impact of my singing obsession. Thankfully he can't talk yet to tell me to shut up...so I shall carry on. I sing about everything from getting dressed and eating lunch, to singing about cars and triangles (yes, I know a song about a triangle).

People who are very close to me also comment on how I can remember lyrics to hundreds of songs. And I can also pick up and remember lyrics to songs after listening to it once or twice. This is proving to be rather useful.

One thing I really want to develop is memorising the bible (not the entire thing...jings). But it has become apparent that my scripture memorisation skills are pretty mince. I think it is important to recall scripture especially when you need to be assured of God's promises. So, this is where I think God has really blessed me with my singing....

I have sang in churches and various other places since I was 15. I love using my voice for God's glory. Nothing brings me more joy than lifting my voice and belting out praise. At my church, Harvest Bible Chapel Glasgow, we have a policy that the songs we use are accurate with scripture. A lot of them quote directly from scripture- and this has proved really helpful for me. 

Sometimes if I'm struggling, I sing. I find it hard to remember scripture, but I can remember it in a song. So I lift my voice and declare God's promises and remind myself to keep praising. Preparing for singing on Sunday has really blessed me this week. The songs have really ministered to me and I'm looking forward to giving them back to God.

 'Let now the weak say I have strength, by the spirit of power that raised Christ from the dead. Let now the poor stand and confess, that MY PORTION IS HIM, AND I'M MORE THAN BLESSED.'

'Triangle ABC, Triangle 123...123 it's a triangle....count to three you've got a triangle!'

Just in time.

Sometimes when I sit and reflect on the past few months, I think about the things I can no longer do. I can't lift or move heavy things, I can't walk very far, I can't get up from sitting on the floor in a graceful manner, and I cannot run (although some would say that's a good thing since I was regularly compared to running like a duck).

The rate at which I lost these abilities was a bit too quick for my liking and it took some time to accept this. Some people comment on how I am still so young (many thanks), far too young to be having problems like this. I was obviously unable to control why and when I became ill, but when I think about the timing of it all, I thank God for His grace.

I think everyone has a destination list- a list of destinations that they want to visit (...in case anyone didn't catch that.) As for me, I've pretty much been to all my places. I've been to Rome to soak up the history, I've been to Florence to overwhelm my appetite for art, Barcelona to see Gaudi's cathedral, and New York to pound the streets and skip down broadway... Although I didn't actually skip for fear of accidentally jay-walking and gettin nicked, but it sounds a lot more whimsical and romantic.

I never would have been able to experience all these awesome places if my legs weren't able to take me. I am thankful to God for giving me these opportunities before now. I was also able to take the most joyus walk of my life, which was down the aisle on my wedding day and dance all night to my nine-piece funk band. And I actually did dance all night- as did everyone else. 

The point is, my legs have carried me when I needed them most! And I will never take that for granted. It's not as if I'm crippled- far from it. And it's not as if I am rendered immobile. I know still have so much more mobility than a lot of people. But the point I am trying to make is that I was able to experience these special moments in life without any underlying pain, tiredness, or anxiety of pushing myself too much. What a huge blessing that has been to me.

There is no perfect time to fall ill, but I can stop and thank God that He has allowed me to experience these things first. I am not using this as a way to get into discussion about sovereignty, but I do want to express that God is good. And how well I know it! God's timing is perfect in everything and I therefore believe that if and when I am healed, it will be just in time.

I may run like a duck, but my dancing is off the chain!

Sick of being bored, bored of being sick.

Starting a blog was something I never thought I would do. Mainly because my thoughts are normally pretty mundane and ordinary, so why would I want to publish them? Well, being in the house with very little to do drives you to try things otherwise unconsidered.

I have been off my work for 6 months now. I've developed an illness which is so far undiagnosed but it has meant that doing anything too practical presents great difficulty. This has been a problem as I happen to be a pretty practical person. My job, my social life and my hobbies have always been practical. I play with kids for a living, enjoy wandering around cities, shops and museums, and standing for hours in the kitchen baking up a storm. Seems a bit unfair that of all the things to be wrong with me, my legs have decided to be stupid and gammy.

I always treated my legs well. I would take them nice places, wrap them in my cosy uggs when the weather was chilly, and occasionally treated them to nice jeans and shoes. I don't know where the relationship went wrong. They started to turn on me last summer where walking became increasingly painful and difficult. I wondered if they needed to be traded in for a younger model, but being only 25 years old, this decision feels a bit premature...

A lot of changes have been embraced (some would say reluctantly) but I'm beginning to explore the pleasure that can be found in less physical hobbies and pursuits. I have been reading more, which is a habit I am excited about developing. The literature is not always hugely intellectual or sophisticated, but sitting with a book always feels less lazy than sitting with the TV. I'm trying to revisit my passion for art, creating pieces for some friends and family including a toybox and a squinty sketch of my nephew. My nails receive a lot of attention now too (more so than usual) and online shopping is definitely proving to be a huge amusement and time waster. Much to the relief of my husband, I am able to exercise an element of self control and restrict myself to window shopping of the laptop kind.

I'm always looking for new things to try and relieve boredom and a couple of friends suggested writing a blog. I enjoy writing, and It involves sitting down. So it was an obvious choice. I also recognise the therapeutic value of writing down your thoughts and so although some of my posts may be long winded and positively mundane, I am sure it will be of some value to me even if no one else cares to read it!

At the bottom of the Spanish Steps before my legs turned stupid. Maybe they should invest in a Spanish ramp...