Month: June 2026

Us humans can be a bit shit when it comes to asking for help. I do not know if this is driven by pride, ego, fear or a crap cocktail of all. Or the cultural conditioning that leaves us b/s-ing ourselves in to believing we should be able to manage everything without help.

Either way, what I do know is that there is no such thing as a human who does not need help sometimes.

Recently I have noticed a growing number of signs in customer services areas. The signs read something like this,

“Our workers will not tolerate abuse. Please treat staff with respect or you will be asked to leave”.

I’ve even seen these signs on the roadworks on motorways. Yes, the disruption of roadworks are irritating, but no, they do not justify abusing those doing their jobs.

The need for such signs is a sad reflection of the times we find ourselves in. What filters down via the tone deaf-ness of too many politicians is a vast disconnect from the everyday person. The social systems in place for us, are so far stretched that they cannot possibly meet the demands placed upon them. This inevitably causes genuine stress for all. And stress in an already over-busy, over-noisy culture, leads to a lack of tolerance and an increase in irritation. We all get terse and tetchy at times especially when the temperatures are beyond our ability to manage well. But being abusive to our fellow human is not acceptable.

We all have legitimate needs and sometimes we cannot access the services we need to meet these needs. But, we do have help at hand. Something I still forget amidst the relentless to-do-ing of the day.

Last weekend I went to a good friends fiftieth party. It was outside in a green space, under a blue sky and a shining sun. Tick, tick, tick. My friend was surrounded by the people who love her and who showed up to celebrate her gift of life, and our gift of friendship with her. More ticks. And I was accompanied by a good friend, who I laugh lots with. Big tick. He is also a serial straight talker which is one of my favourite human traits. I struggle with wonky shooters who say one thing before doing the opposite.

Anyway, following a food fest worthy of royalty – not a curled up sandwich in sight, the next part of the party unfolded. This was called Prosecco rounders. As a recovered alcoholic, prosecco is not my bag. Usually anything active especially if competitive, would be my bag. I’m not sure if it was my large floaty, not-conducive-to-running-in, dress, my Friday night fatigue, or my discomfort in crowds of people I don’t know, but I came over, all, ‘I want to hide’.

My friend and fellow recovered alcoholic shot straight in there thrilled at the chance to unleash his competitive beast. Plus, he had suitable shorts and footwear on. And he went on to get a rounder. Yay!

Meanwhile, I took a chair to spectate from the sidelines and try to squash my feeling that I was being a bit of a shit friend. I tried to utilise my invisibility coat of protection which I spent many years developing. And I succeeded for a while.

However, my friend’s husband then appeared by me and did a double take when he saw me hiding on the sidelines. He knows I’m not typically a sidelines person, but a get-out-there and live life the fuller than full way person.

He questioned what I was doing there and why I wasn’t playing. I heard a string of lame arse excuses come out of my mouth. And he called me out on every one of them! Before saying something that struck straight to my spirit. He knows I’m a Christian – I’ve prayed for their son before (prayers answered) and I prayed for his work situation (prayers answered). He said something along the lines of,

“Your man up there would have helped you with the rounders. Why didn’t you ask him? You’re better than this Jo.”

Thank God for the straight shooters!

Instantly, I replied,

“Good answer, you’re totally right.”

And then I sat there a bit stunned.

Often it takes my so called non-believer friends to remind me/call me out when I am not practicing what I preach or trusting the God that I say I believe in! I’ve lost count of the times friends have asked me whether I prayed for something as they have immediately credited God for answering and meeting their needs! 

Similarly, during the worst of the worst of these past few years, my non-Christian friends have regularly reminded me that God had bought me through every previous awful time. I do love praying and it is a non-negotiable part of my day. But it still amazes me how quickly non-Christians see and remind me of the helping hand of God! Sometimes more quickly and clearly than this Christian see’s!

Thank you God for my non-Christian, more-faith-in-you-than-me, friends!

Every morning my favourite part of the day is hanging out with God in nature. I enjoy quality time with him and allowing him the space to speak with me. He fills my heart and spirit with deep gratitude, contentment and wisdom so wise, that it is off the human wise-o-metre. However, sometimes I then forget all about him until the same time the next day.

My friend’s comments reminded me that God is there on hand waiting all day and all night, for me to ask for his help. Not only with the big crisis stuff but the little moments throughout the day too. Whether to thank him when I recognise his helping hand, or to ask for his helping hand when I am struggling. I was reminded that God is interested in every part of my day, large, small or medium sized. If it matters to me, it matters to Him.

Sometimes I remember to ask for his help when I am about to tackle a task that requires me to put my big-girl-pants on and push through my desire to avoid it. It may be removing the squirrel that died in my water butt or the rodent remains from the lounge floor or one of those big skinny-but-scary spiders from the bathroom. I don’t want anything in the shower with me but especially not something with eight legs. Ugh.

Back to the rounders, it wasn’t the end of the world when I didn’t join in with the game. And there are times when we need to say no without guilt or condemnation. But I’m honest enough to know this wasn’t really one of them. Yes, I felt hesitant, yes I was tired, and yes I wanted to hide, but this game was my friends wish for her birthday. And that was what I felt appropriately shit about.

On reflection, I wish I had asked God to help me push through my reticence to join the game. It didn’t even occur to me in the moment, but it shot straight to the heart of my truth detector the second my friend’s husband said it. I’m not going to batter myself about this – I can allow for my own humanity. But what I am going to do is try to remember to ask God to help me as I go through the day, not only at the start.

God is not a part time God, or one who goes off duty, or is too overstretched to have time for us. He loves it when we recognise his presence and desire to help. More so when we acknowledge our need and want for him and ask him to help. Whether with bearing this heat or choosing an outfit for a night out, tackling the tax assessment (groan) or anything and everything in between. He is not only a God for whom there is no job too small, but one for whom there is no job he will not help us with. Wowsers! What an offer.

While he never pesters or pressures us, he always waits patiently for us to ask for his help.

My most often uttered prayer is,

“Help”.

And when I am not so stressed or desperate that I forget, I even add,

“Please”.

These prayers sometimes take time in the natural for the answer to be seen, especially if it is not answered how I want or expect. But I know in my knower that my God hears and responds to every prayer. Mine, yours and ours.

Last weekend I surprised myself by going to Hitchin. On a Saturday. A destination I usually avoid of a weekend due to my dislike of noise making/space taking crowds. And stress inducing parking scenario’s; too many cars, not enough spaces all combined with having to push through my aversion to apps/parking machines. That’s a hattrick of hated situations I prefer to spare myself from of a Saturday.

However, as the monsoons/hailstones were taking a break, I chose to risk life and limb by cycling to Hitchin. Something I find way safer and more enjoyable than driving and trying to park the car.

Anyway, I was pleasantly surprised that it was warm and dry enough to sit outside in the square. A talented singer was playing by the nearby pub; the sun was popping out periodically and there weren’t too many people. A winning hattrick.

My friend and fellow therapist and I were able to enjoy a good scoff, al fresco. We also caught up on all things life, death and relational.

Our discussions led to the recent death of my dad which led to a deeper dad discussion. We discovered that we shared some similar experiences and feelings about our respective dads.

Afterwards I realised that I’ve had many parent-based conversations lately. These have highlighted that no matter how old we are, we are all wired with the longing for the love of a father. To make us feel seen, held, safe, comforted, helped, protected and guided. None more so than when the sh*t hits the fan; whether we are behaving like a bit of a sh*t ourselves, someone else is, or another sh*t bomb has landed from life.

We are all dealt different cards when it comes to our biological dads. Some dads are absent whether physically (or dead) or emotionally, others are distracted/pre-occupied/neglectful, controlling or plain abusive. And some are present as never ending sources of love, support, money … most are somewhere in between.

Whatever hand we were dealt on the dad card front, the stresses and strains of middle age can evoke a childlike longing for a ‘parental’ figure. We may want a parent to make us feel like we don’t have to hold it all in, or all together, or all on our own. Especially in times of transition, change, uncertainty, loss, grief etc when we may regress to feeling small, frightened and unsettled. And we may long for a proper grown up to take the weight off our shoulders, put their big, strong arms around us and lead us forward step by step. (Do any of us feel qualified to claim official grown up status?)

We may long for someone safe and solid to hold us steady while we work out and walk through, challenging and changing times. We may long for this to be a parental presence who offers a strength that give us the comfort, consistency and compassion that we crave when we feel vulnerable. We may want to surrender to a childlike status, free from the weight of grown up responsibilities, decisions and adult to-do-ing. And we may long to feel safe to trust in the helping hand of one who see’s and knows more than we do and always wants the best for us.

And that’s when I realised that while no human parent can meet all these hopes, I’ve hit the jackpot with God as the dad who can! God likes to show me lessons in three’s as it often takes three times of him showing me something similar, to secure my attention! But as three is also a holy number, he often blesses me in threes too. When it comes to the dad department, I got three of them!

The biological dad was a great provider while growing up. He also imparted his unstoppable tenacity for hard graft and pursuing his passions. And his enormous capacity for laughing at himself. I am grateful for each of these. At least I am when I realise there is also a time to not be unstoppable on the grafting/passion pursuing front! There were other more difficult aspects of him, some of which I have also inherited! And I continue to work with and through these in therapy, under God’s genius and gracious guidance!

And God is the only perfect parent. He accepts me always, however I am. And his love changes me, always, however I am, into something better. Not out of demand, pressure or fear of punishment, but because his love is so pure that it is impossible not to be changed in its presence.

My propensity for being literal serves me well in that I take God at his word. Mostly. Except sometimes when I’m very afraid. But I never withhold what is in my heart from him, whether good, bad or very bad! Because I understand that nothing within me is hidden from him! So I bring it all before him openly and promptly. And because God accepts me because of who he is, not who I am (phew), I am free to bring the best, worst and everything in between to him. I love this. Because he is the greatest help with working through the ugliest parts within me; thoughts, feelings, whatever. He helps me to turn these in to healing, learning and liberation. Wowsers. What a God, what a dad, what a parent.

And he always see’s what folk are up to behind my back – I don’t have to worry about those who do not have my back or even my front, because God has got all of me covered. All I have to do is remain focused on my heart and my conduct, as directed by the ultimate deity.

When I am struggling under the weight of life stresses, unexpected problems or self-inflicted exhaustion, God reminds me who he is. And asks why I am trying to do the heavy lifting without him, given this is his speciality. When I get this, I give what weighs me down to him, leaving me free to walk lightly into whatever God calls me to.

Of course, like most humans, I try to go back and grab these back off God! But fortunately, he’s patient enough to bear with me and work with me without finger wagging or ‘haven’t you got this, yet-ing!’ He continually reminds me through repeated experience that he is trustworthy. Always. In every situation. And my life is always easier when I remember this, in practice and let him carry the load!

As with all relationships, trust is the key foundation. Without trust there will always be problems. And trust is something we can cultivate and grow over time. The more I see, experience and realise God is trustworthy, in actions not just words, the more I can lean in to and upon Him. And practice letting him do the heavy lifting. Life feels much lighter and easier like this. When I remember, in actions not just words!

I remain immensely grateful that when I feel small, afraid or childlike, I have the Father of God to simply and safely sink in to. To rest in his presence and allow him to hold me while I recover or regroup or various other words starting with ‘re’. He is safe. He does not judge me for sharing my heart, or victim blame or shame me for having a heart that is soft and healthy enough to feel hurt. He is a true Father and God of comfort and compassion who constantly calls me to him. To relax into him and switch right off. Safe. Finally. To stop acting like I must hold it all within and together, on my own. He is calling me to take the heavy hurts of my heart, the complex situations/decisions of my mind and the steps I am unsure how to take to him. He really does know the way, and he really does love to show me/you and us his way. Which really is best, in the long term!

With God as a dad, I learn something new every single day. For God is always present, always speaking and always showing me what I need to see and learn. When I am paying attention! Or he does things in threes to capture my attention! While my mind is easily distracted, God knows my heart is always hungry for him and his teachings.

And then last but by no means least, is my Church dad aka the one and only legend, that is Johnboy. The dad who has been dad-in-service for about seventeen years. He has shown me; availability, presence (in person and prayer), kindness, patience, tolerance, humour, practical help, consistency, generosity, faith, encouragement and what we all crave; parental love; unconditional; given out of their goodness, not dependant on ours, huge portions of. Which inevitably comes full circle in time!

I cannot thank Johnboy enough for all he has shown and gifted me with through his parental caring presence. Especially during the horrors of the past four years. He is one in ten million to me. He shows me the love of God in human form. He is not perfect, any more than I am. No, he probably is more perfect than I am, actually! But he is not perfect. And I am not by a long shot! But I don’t need him to be. He is sincere of heart. And this is what gives him ongoing access to mine.

Johnboy – you are a gift from the ultimate giver of good gifts – thank you for being you.

A trio of dads. Lucky me huh!

This Father’s Day, I will be praising God for the trio of dad-cards he dealt me.

Some helped to heal,

where others caused harm,

but God transforms all

through his healing balm.

He leads me through chaos

to his clarity and calm.

Thank you big G,

for always being with me,

the star dad of three

who watches over me

and leads me to be,

so very happee!

That I never face life

Without the presence of thee.

Yippee!

This morning I started my day as I start every day. Sat in my prayer chair, opposite the tree, enjoying the utter magic of the early morning. I have a front row seat to the world of wildlife. Whether the cautious squirrel who poses on the fence post podium to eat his findings, or the pigeons flirting in the trees many branches. And the various shaped, sized and sounding winged wonders that sing out from all around. I love, love, love to be an observer of this most magical natural world. From my position here I seek the voice of the one who knows the day I’ll have and the way to navigate it. Magic.

As I work from home in my own magical little bubble, I sometimes forget about the wider world. This morning I was forced out into the world by a routine dental appointment. I was not expecting the volume of traffic I encountered given it was well outside of commuting times. This reminded me that I can never control the external but I can always work on my internal response to it! Along with the never failing, always on-hand-to-help, Almighty!  This is good news for everybody.

And I made my appointment on time. Eventually. I was greeted by a different dental team to previously.

“Oh, you’re a different team”, I blurted out.

“Yes, I am … “, came the reply, followed by an introduction, ending with something like,

“It’s another Monday … groan type noise”.

“Hey, a new Monday equals a brand new day and a brand new week to start again. Don’t forget to seek the magic in a Monday as in any other day!” I chirped, sounding annoyingly chirpy even to my own ears!

However, I do believe that shit, stress and strife await us all. But if we throw away our ability to seek to see the magical that remains within it all, we’re giving away part of the antedote! And I’ve grown through too much shit to do that anymore.

How easy it is to unthinkingly repeat a mantra,

“Mondays are days to moan through the post-weekend misery”.

This makes it a norm that we expect and therefore seek to see materialise. Such a prophecy will often be fulfilled! But do we really want it to be?!

If a job is hated so much that Monday brings genuine misery, do something about it. Stop and seek help to find a different way. I spent over twenty years doing jobs full of Mondays and most other days that felt like an endurance test. (for everyone involved). That was crap.

But eventually I got off my arse, got the help I needed and started to pursue my passions! Aside from the recent horrors of embodied trauma colliding with peri/grief/neurodivergence and burn out, I am now living my dreams. Not without twenty years of slog, blood, sweat, tears and prayers that felt stuck on repeat. And so, sometimes I forget that having worked so relentlessly to realise my dreams, that others are still stuck settling for the ‘same old, same old’, mantra.

WAKEY WAKEY PEOPS!

Life is fleeting, fragile and free for anyone with the heart to receive it, share it, lose it, seek it, find it and keep receiving it.

Make this Monday a turnaround point for Mondays becoming a magical start to the week.

In the words of Van Morrison, there is no need to transform your Monday without the help of the one who can:

“I know that God shines his light on me

Reach out for him, he’ll be there

With him your troubles you can share

If you live the life you love

You get the blessings from above

He heals the sick and he heals the lame

Says you can do it too, in Jesus name

He’ll lift you up and he turns you around

And he puts your feet back on higher ground”.

Yes, yes and yes Mr Morrison and not just on a Monday!

That’s my God (yours if you want him)  – when we call out to him, he loves to show case who he really is. At least he does when we are patient, trusting and committed enough to keep waiting and watching for the wow-ing he loves to give us. In his own sweet time!

Happy Monday peops or if it is not happy, ask for some help from on high.

You have nothing to lose, and all to gain by giving God a try.