Emotional Health - Life is calling

A Father For All …

Father’s Day is upon us again.

But what exactly does the term Father mean?

Is it the man biologically responsible for providing the necessary ingredient?

Or the man/men who actually do life with you?

On the understanding that they are not always one and the same.

Perhaps they are both.

Over the years I’ve redefined my understanding of the term ‘father’ numerous times. Yet it does not remain static. It continues to change, evolve and grow.

Especially since encountering the Father of all Father’s; God Almighty Himself.

As I look back to my pre-knowing-God days I remember one of my early experiences of what felt like a gift from God the Father.

It was many, many, many years ago back in the days when I was still caught in the life destroying grip of alcoholism. It was a Saturday morning in the summer back when I lived next door to my sister. We shared a lawn mower and on this particular morning, accompanied by a monster sized hangover and aided by a large pig butty, I still found myself unable to face the task of tackling my lawn. My sister did hers and I sat and watched wondering how I was going to muster the motivation to do mine.

Anyway, as I sat wishing that my lawn would cut itself, there was a knock at my sister’s door. When she failed to return promptly from answering it my curiosity got the better of me and I dragged myself up and round to her front door to have a nose.

I was met by the sight of two young Mormon men dressed in suits enquiring as to whether there was anything they could do for my sister. Ding. Having recognised what looked to be an amazing opportunity, the words, ‘oh yes, you can mow my lawn for me’ were out of my mouth before I could gather any sense of decorum or English reserve. (Thank God).

These guys smiled enthusiastically, whipped off their jackets and asked to get stuck in. I was of course only too delighted to get them started!

Once they’d mowed my back lawn they asked if there was anything else they could do, to which I kindly replied, ‘well, if you’re going to do a job, you may as well do it properly and do the front as well’, thinking they would tell me where to go. But no, they were genuinely keen to oblige.

By this point I was totally amazed and humbled by their attitude. So much so that I made us all some lunch and then these young guys talked about their family back home in the USA and showed us pictures of them. It was a thoroughly enjoyable affair!

Now, to clarify, I don’t really know what a Mormon is or what any of the various denominations are. Neither do I really care. Maybe I should but all that is important to me is that there is one God and He loves and wants to be in relationship with us all.

Anyway, after this experience, I remarked to my sister, ‘you see, there really must be a God’, to which she replied, ‘typical that would happen to you and you’d get out of moving your lawn’!!! (I have a concrete lawn these days!)

But for me, this was an experience I would look back upon after officially meeting God personally a few years later whilst living in NZ. I could see that God is indeed a Father of such love and such grace. I had a totally self-inflicted hangover that Saturday morning and I certainly did not deserve for anyone to come along and do my chores for me and yet these young men did so with such genuine joy that it caused me to stop and think about what kind of a God could cause a person to do something so selfless and to seemingly get such pleasure from doing so.

I realise now that this experience that was so undeserved had God written all over it. And for that I was grateful then and I’m grateful now, for the numerous ways that God reveals Himself. Usually I suspect without us even noticing much less thanking Him. (Often cos we’re too busy blaming him for something or other).

This was just a great example of the Father’s love. We don’t deserve Him yet He pursues, loves and helps us regardless.

Which is not to say that He doesn’t also allow us to feel the consequences of our actions. Or even to allow terrible things to happen to us. But His grace, love and help remain on offer to help us through no matter what.

As I reflect upon this Father’s Day, I realise that since meeting God the Father, I’ve been fortunate enough to experience other men who have shown me a similar Fatherly love and grace. And whilst each of these key men have been vastly different, they have each shown me that grace and love cannot be separated. (A bit like tea and cake).

These men have helped me with practical stuff, prayed for me when I’ve needed it (read always!), hugged me when I’ve cried and celebrated with me when things have gone well. They are the father’s that are there for me and do life with me. They each show me something of the Father’s heart. And I am eternally grateful to them all. (Special thanks to the long suffering Johnboy!).

But anyway, back to this Father’s day.

It’s not an easy day for many people for all manner of reasons. And if it is a day that brings pain, it’s important to acknowledge that. Not sweep it under the carpet, deny or dismiss it, belittle or stiff upper lip it back in to the body to come out later as illness. It just needs to be recognised, respected and responded to with love and compassion. Because that is the only way that we can continue to live with our hearts open. And if they’re not open, are we really living?

At the same time, it is important to acknowledge that whatever experiences each of us have had or failed to have from our own father’s, there is a Father who is available to us all. One that is worthy to be celebrated and praised this Father’s Day.

He probably will have bought men to show you about a father’s love even if those men or that man is not biologically connected to you. But whether He has or whether you have noticed or recognised this or not, God Himself will be reaching out to you this Father’s day.

Whether you know or believe in Him, he knows and believes in each and every one of us. He longs to father us all. To be in relationship with us. To have us spend time with Him, to recognise His hand and the many ways and people through whom He reaches out to us. To know His voice and to hear what He wants to speak in to our lives to encourage and help us to navigate our way through all the twists and turns. To know that no matter how things feel, we are never alone for He is always with and for us, patiently waiting for us to acknowledge and call upon Him. To love us with such grace and compassion in spite of ourselves. To be available and interested 24/7. To know us so intimately as to always know what and who we need. To strengthen and comfort us along the way that we can keep going even when things are super tough and we feel like giving up. To welcome and comfort us when we’ve gone off the rails but then realise that He still awaits our return with open embrace.

Ultimately this Father loves us with a love like no other. One that never gives up, abandons, abuses, neglects, forgets, ignores or rejects. Even when we do that to Him.

There are truly none like Him.

And … He doesn’t get ill or die on us.

Do you know this ultimate Father?

Maybe this Father’s Day it is time to recognise the Father’s call in to relationship with Him.

For me, this Father’s Day I will be praising and thanking my God and Father for never giving up on me, for pursuing me relentlessly even though I wouldn’t acknowledge Him until I was on the other side of the world, and for loving me through the most painful times and my most horrible behaviours. Ultimately, for loving all of me; the good, the bad and the really ugly. And I’ll be thanking Him for the men in my life who represent Him to me. As well as praying for those who don’t!

And throughout the year in between this Father’s Day and the next, whenever I’m having a right old crappy time, I’ll try to remind myself ‘Jo, do you remember who your Father is?!’.

Should I forget, I’m fortunate enough to have friend’s that remind me.

I don’t know what your experience of or as a father is.

But I know that there is a Father who longs to be in relationship with EVERY SINGLE one of his children.

Will you accept His invitation this Father’s Day?

Mastering our Inner Martha …

During a meeting with a group of women this week, the subject of guilt arose.

That potentially pervasive stealer of life.

There was a subsequent discussion around how attempts to just hang out with Jesus often get sabotaged or diverted by the voice of guilt.

We realised that the voice of guilt often arises from our inner Martha.

And it goes something like this, ‘you can’t just sit around being with Jesus when there is work to be done. You should be doing… the washing up/housework/shopping/enter whatever you think you should be doing’.
Basically, you should be doing something.

Doing rather than being.

The mantra of our quality of life stealing culture.

As we discussed this, it became clear that we can all struggle at times to master our inner Martha sufficiently to allow our inner Mary to find expression through time with Jesus.

According to the gospel of Luke, Mary favoured simply being in the presence of Jesus, unlike Martha who was fretting over preparing the meal and resentful that Mary wasn’t helping.

Personally, I feel for Martha in this scenario because let’s face it, if no one prepared the meal because both Martha and Mary chose to hang out with Jesus, I feel certain there would have been some disgruntlement from someone at the point at which the hunger arose.

Or perhaps it’s just me that becomes grumpy when hungry as I am someone who absolutely loves good food.

But maybe the point is more that the spiritual food that only Jesus can provide, feeds our heart, soul and spirit with a sense of life and energy that inspires and enables us to find our place and purpose within the world.

In comparison, as marvellously satisfying as the act of devouring a good meal can be, it doesn’t typically leave me feeling passionately fired up to seek the life that is only found within the purposes of God.

In fact, sometimes a good feeding session leaves me feeling incapable of anything other than an afternoon appointment with the duvet.

Whilst there is nothing wrong with this and we certainly do need physical food to maintain our physical body’s, this food is unable to nourish those other parts of our humanity which are ultimately responsible for our beliefs and values and thus our motivation and desire for actively participating in daily life.

I guess what I am saying is that Jesus reaches the parts of us that not even a gloriously good feast, can reach. (Doesn’t that sound like the words of an old beer advert?)

Anyway, we do not need to get shot of Martha but we do need to appreciate that the role of Mary in hanging out with Jesus, really is the more important one. (Even for a foodie like me).

But, we do need Martha.

Let’s face it, she comes in to her own when we need to get all those hated jobs around the house done. Personally, I’m always a little suspicious of a woman who says she enjoys housework. The results are satisfying for sure but to enjoy this as a way of spending time when there are so many other inspiring options available?

Before you judge me, I say this as someone who spent years cleaning other people’s houses to help put myself through uni. Admittedly I had some incredible conversations with Jesus whilst cleaning but as I know I can converse with Him in so many other ways, cleaning is not my top choice!

But anyway, we all need our Martha’s.

Because in reality, can we really spend all day every day hanging out with Jesus?

I think not.

Which is not to say that we cannot converse with Jesus throughout the day. I think the trick is to be in such a close relationship with Jesus that He literally jumps off the page of His word to really walk and work and talk with us throughout the day.

I think we know and accept that we cannot spend all day every day simply being in the presence of Jesus.

But do we equally know and accept that we should no more be spending all of our time addressing Martha’s incessant demands that we be doing?

We need balance.

We need both.

We need integration.

If more in the favour of Mary.

Without which, when Martha stifles Mary in to submission with her guilt inducing narrative, both lose out. Martha resents the martyrdom of her actions and Mary feels judged and suppressed. No one wins.

Unfortunately, our culture subtly and not so subtly backs and reinforces the Martha approach to life. It values doing, producing and creating, tangible, measurable things.

Our culture is not pro being still, stopping or even slowing down.

Although in fairness, the need to ‘be’ is beginning to fight back via meditation, mindfulness and various other similar practices.

Culture has influenced us to become so ingrained with the need to constantly do that sometimes our attempts to spend time being, especially being with Jesus, can be intercepted without us even realising.

It is time for our inner Mary to fight back!

Martha wants the external physical stuff to be dealt with.

Mary wants the internal soul and spirit stuff to be dealt with.

Both matter.

But time invested on the internal leads to a natural outworking within the external.

In other words, the Mary who has been nourished through quality time with Jesus can tackle her ‘Martha to do list’ with way more enthusiasm and grace than the Mary who has been denied time with her Master.

Because, there really is nothing like the joy of simply lingering in the presence of the Lord Almighty. And as someone who has tried a lot of what this world has to offer, I do mean, nothing.

After all, He is the creator of the universe, the ultimate artist especially evident at this time of year and the highest form of wisdom and wit.

He offers a one to one mentoring service like no other. He teaches us in the ways He has made us to naturally and most effectively learn. He knows us intimately in a way that no other human really can. And even more miraculously, He loves us regardless!

He is the counsellor above all counsellor’s and knows exactly what and who we need when we’re struggling. He’s totally trustworthy. Not to spare us from all trouble but to help us to overcome. He’s the ultimate friend and confidante who genuinely wants us to do well and to fulfil His plans. He’s the best source of help available and the only one on call 24/7.

I could go on and on and on…. I wont.

But the bottom line is that spending time with the Almighty and I’m talking here, leisurely, unrushed, unhurried time, is the most inspiring, enlivening, exciting way that any of us can ever invest any of our time.

And like so many of the very best experiences that life has to offer, there are nearly always a series of repeated reasons/excuses/distractions to stop us from doing so. (See the Fun Thief)

Our inner Martha comes in to this category for all too often she ambushes us with the dialogue of Captain Sensible in that she constantly attempts to guilt trip us in to focusing and expending our energy upon all those endless grown up jobs awaiting our attention.

As if hanging out with Jesus is a waste of our time.

But seriously, what price can we put on an encounter with the Almighty?

We may not see what we gain or be able to show it to others in concrete ways but the experience of a God encounter cannot be underestimated.

A connection with the source of life itself can energise and uplift us in ways that are hard to articulate.

It needs to be felt to be known.

And is of course, available and on offer to all.

Martha can be a total kill joy and stealer of pleasure, quick to remind us of what we haven’t done or what we should be doing.

Yet when Mary is allowed to do what she is made to do she becomes better equipped to fulfil her Martha duties with more ease and less resentment.

So go ahead, tell your Martha to stand down and let your Mary arise.

It is time for a shift.

For when the two work in unity, both and thus all, really do benefit!

Beware the Fun Thief … ..

Recently I’ve noticed a particular theme which grabs my attention from time to time.

As I listen to people talk about the various trials and tribulations of life, it becomes apparent that when consumed by these life challenges, one of the first things to get squeezed out of the schedule is … having fun.

It seems to start so subtly that it operates off the radar thus stealing the opportunities for fun without even being noticed. Sometimes it’s years before people realise that they have unwittingly allowed themselves to lose or to stop investing time in all the very things that bring them joy.

There is a further pattern to the things that appear to get stolen which is that they are usually creative in nature. For some it will be painting or sketching or for others something musical or baking and so the list goes on and on.

Fun takes different forms for all.

But we all need fun.

But it’s as if at some point within adulthood, these activities get thrown in the back room, often to never be seen again. Once out of sight, they get forgotten about. As if these are things that we simply grow out of or cease to need.

I think quite the opposite is true for once we enter the world of adulting with all its responsibility and seriousness, I think we need the fun, physical and playful stuff even more than ever! If only to balance out the heaviness of all the grown up stuff.

Yet it is as if play is written off as only being the domain of those officially known as ‘children’.

What nonsense!

Why should the little people get all the fun?

Don’t we need it even more?!

It is almost like there is an unwritten rule that folk unwittingly sign up to that banishes all fun in favour of responsibility, as if the two cannot be interwoven.

No wonder so many adults are bitter and resentful about their lot.

Fun, play and creativity are the very aspects of life that nourish us sufficiently to do all the big stuff.

They provide us with a source of joy.

We need them.

And we let them go at our peril.

I became aware that I had allowed myself to lose some of my playtime during the seriousness of my many years of studying and training. I felt like my creative juices had ceased to flow. Blocked up by an imbalance of work.

And so I dedicated a year to reclaiming the gift of fun.

Big time.

I enrolled the help of an excellent book called The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, which guided me through the very important yet oh so fun business of reclaiming some of my favourite things; downtime, play and underpinning all … creativity.

I rediscovered old joys like baking cakes (and of course eating them), writing, dancing and reading but I’ve also discovered new ones like solo trips to the coast, singing and pilates.

Fun matters.

It’s good for our health and wellbeing.

Seriously.

No matter what stresses or strains we are in the midst of experiencing, the need for fun not only remains but actually increases in the face of challenges. Thus it is down to us to proactively invest in making time to indulge in those things that bring us joy.

Laughter, fun and play really are medicine.

Soul medicine.

Whilst applying these principles at a barn dance last Saturday night, I got in to a conversation with a teacher who was discussing how schools are cutting physical education and the arts from the curriculum. What a shortsighted and misguided way to attempt to increase and improve academia.

What a tragedy.

And a false economy.

Unless we want to produce a generation of robots taught/programmed to produce ‘results’ no matter the cost, or the loss of soul.

When did we stop recognising the value of fully rounded individuals who know how in the words of the old Mars advert, to ‘work, rest and play’.

The ‘work, work, work’ philosophy doesn’t work.

Not for anyone, anywhere, at anytime.

Except as a life shortening and quality of life removing activity.

In order to function fully, us humans need physical activity, play, downtime and creativity.

Whilst these are being further and further squeezed out, is it any wonder we’re becoming a nation of zombies sat transfixed by the latest series on the TV/Ipad/Technology.

Life really is too short and too full of unexpected challenges for us to allow the fun parts to be stolen.

Now is the time to reclaim our ability to play, to be active, to create and overall … to have FUN!

The Nourishment of Nature …

How I love a Bank Holiday.

And this last one offered me two of my favourite gifts: time and sunshine.

With no sign of tradition, it was quite the treat to spend so much time out in the awe inspiring beauty of nature all without being wet or cold!

Us English folk certainly have the gift of appreciation when it comes to something as rare as a sunny Bank Holiday! With the exception of course, of a little moaning that it’s too hot!

Anyway, last weekend offered three whole glorious days of sun drenched playtime.

Healing balm to my heart and soul.

Following a morning appointment with some home made pancakes on the patio, I set off on Saturday to explore the changing scenery of the fields around my home. I was so NOT disappointed.

I was greeted by a stunning mass of vibrant yellow set against a deep blue sky. Such a delight to see and walk amongst. A sumptuous sense stimulator! What a privilege to walk freely within it all.

When I eventually tired of all those stunning green, blue and yellow scenes, I returned to my favourite spot on a little wooden jetty over a small river. From here I could dip my toes in the cooling waters and enjoy the backdrop of birdsong.

An utter banquet for the soul.

I find nature SO nourishing

After my toe dipping session, I spent the rest of the day relaxing amidst it all. Firstly within my neighbour’s garden (with said neighbour!) and lastly, an evening spent under the vast blue sky above my own garden.

Slowing down to notice and receive the nourishment of nature is so healing.

And more was to come for Sunday saw me on the receiving end of an unexpected BBQ invite. Result! One enjoyed in the midst of an utterly beautiful garden. Not only did I fill myself with sumptuous barbequed meaty treats but I also got to have my fill of the flowers scattered around the rather vast garden. All accompanied by some excellent conversation and a lot of laughter. Dee-licious all round.

Yet more was in store for me on Monday within a bluebell clad Hitchwood. Such a delight to walk amongst such vast and natural beauty. A case of a walk within WowTown for wherever I lay my feet or eyes there was yet more to be devoured. Try as I might to capture it all on camera, no matter which direction I stepped in, there was always more on offer.

How I love days like these.

As tempting as it is to use our free time ‘to get stuff done’, it’s an utter joy to practice letting that stuff wait and simply enjoying the basic gift of nature in the now. Especially when it’s all so enriched by the presence of the sun casting its colour deepening glow upon it all.

It was a wonderful weekend well spent in the company of good people, indulging in top notch food and all within the healing, nourishing wonders of God’s great playground.

What a luxury to have free entry to all this, anytime!

And here we are on the verge of yet another weekend surrounded by the resilient glory of the blooms of nature. All of which serve to remind us that no matter what comes our way, new life, growth and beauty are awaiting to burst forth. Such hope.

How I love to feast on nature.

The Grief Wave …

Grief isn’t a nice, tidy, or by any means short process that comes with any kind of manual or end date.

Nor is it something we can control.

It is unique and unpredictable.

But, over time we can learn to recognise and surrender to it rather than resist and prolong it. Not that it ever ends but more that the loss becomes integrated and the absence adjusted to, even when it still hurts.

Ultimately we have to learn to trust the grieving process.

Because when that fresh wave of grief hits, it hits.

You know about it.

There can be no denial of its arrival.

At least not for long.

In fact, we’d do well to notice it coming.

I saw mine on the horizon. Or rather I felt it. The tears that came at inappropriate moments. The stuffing them back down with sugar or salt laden rubbish, the extended and more frequent need for an afternoon nap, the struggle to smile in the presence of so much stifled sadness.

The signs were all there.

I simply refused to read them.

It took a meeting with my best friend and fellow psychotherapist to point out the unwanted obvious.

This was another wave of grief.

I’d come out of the fog of the first few months and people had commented on how much better I looked. I felt better too.

So when the grief began to hit again, I tried to resist it by carrying on as ‘normal’. I liked feeling ‘better’. And I didn’t want to feel sad again. I’ve already had too much sadness for one lifetime.

I resisted, denied, refused and fought this new wave of grief.

I didn’t want it to take me over.

I wasn’t trusting it to do its work of transformation or to deliver me to where I need to be.

All this despite knowing that something as important as the process of grief cannot be ignored. At least not for any real length of time before your body starts protesting via the language of illness. For some, even hospitalisation.

But, like most humans, I also like to buy in to all those palatable ideas about how having the right thoughts, beliefs, or pills, means we don’t have to be ‘so weak’ (read human) as to experience unwanted feelings. I get it. I want this to be true as much as the next person. And if swallowing these ideas came without the consequences it would certainly be a lot easier and less painful.

And so I allowed myself to indulge in a little delusion, despite my training, despite my knowledge, despite the reality that stifled sadness (or any other unwanted emotion) is a great stealer of smiles and obstructer of the internal well of joy.

I know this stuff but like most humans I still sometimes opt for the comfort of denial. No matter how shallow or short lived.

As a friend of mine says, denial is a very long river.

And for a while, I just wanted to swim in it. I didn’t want to get out to face much less engage with the reality that ‘the only cure for grief, is grieving’. (I nicked that expression off some one else but can’t remember who – possibly Kubler Ross).

But anyway …

Grief cannot be fast tracked, thought or prayed away.

Grief has to be grieved.

No quick fix.

No short cut.

No way out, over or above.

Just the long and at times lonely, walk through.

Sometimes it hits so hard, we come to a standstill. One which reminds us afresh of the lost one. Of the pain of having loved that person and no longer having them here in our midst in the way that we used to.

It hurts.

All I can do is ride it out.

And cut myself some slack. Re-check my schedule, re-assess what is really necessary right now and what can wait. Reduce my expectations. Listen to my body and respect its messages.

Ultimately, I can practice a little extra self-care. Experiment with when to push and when to let up. Trial and error. Learning along the way. Making adjustments where necessary.

After all, what really is the rush for anything? Do I have anything if I don’t have my health, if I refuse to stop and allow myself to heal?

Nothing is more important than health.

So I’m prioritising mine right now.

Not ministry, not the housework and not my finances. Because actually, without my health, what use are any of these?

I’m also letting my people know that I’m struggling. That I need a little extra encouragement right now. Because when my world becomes dark with grief, it’s the light of my people that breaks through and reminds me to keep trusting until my own light can shine again.

As I reflect upon my grieving process, I am reminded of how grieving has worked in my life previously, having experienced rather a lot of it. Not always related to death but always to loss.

What I recall is that it goes in cycles. I feel consumed by the grief for a period, then I experience a respite which feels wonderful in comparison, then another round of grief hits, feeling worse than the last because it’s now in contrast to feeling good and so the cycles repeat. Except that each time, the period of grieving becomes less severe and the period of respite becomes longer until the two eventually amalgamate in to a new norm.

It’s a process. One that I’m well versed in. So I know I can trust it to do its work of healing and transformation.

Yet I still need reminding when I’m in its midst for I can lose sight of the purpose of the pain.

This is the pain of healing.

Just like when a physical part of the body is healing and growing in strength again. It too can bring pain as part of the process.

I refuse to bypass this process.

I will not settle for Society’s short sighted offer of a superficial, intellect only healing. Tempting as it may be. I will not force my body to communicate through illness. When it starts warning me through the coldsore, sore throat, headache, nauseau or the really big warning sign, lack of appetite, I stop. I acknowledge my body’s message and respond accordingly.

Which means giving myself permission to do nothing. To simply be. To listen to the birds, to walk amongst God’s beautiful creation, to admire the buds of new life, to watch the sun’s rays bounce off the stillness of the river. I take these moments to just be still and allow myself to reconnect to the joy and privilege of simply being alive. Even when it hurts.

Because at the end of the day, I want a heart level healing. Or more realistically, a healthy heart level adjustment to the absence of the one who made such a difference to my world and my life.

Gosh I miss her.

Her smile, her expressions, her sense of fun and mischief, her laughter, her seeing, getting and reaching me with her love.

A mother’s love.

I want her back.

Now.

I don’t want to accept that she’s not coming back.

And I don’t want to wait until I get to Heaven to see her again.

Yet that’s the price I signed up to pay when I allowed her in to my heart; to mother me, to be a friend, a confidante, an encourager, a supporter, a stabiliser, a security provider, a champion of my dreams, a trusted one to share the day to day with, one to laugh with, cry with, share meals and pray with.

I signed up for this whether I consciously chose to or not. I signed up for the reality that when I allow myself to love someone, I must also accept that I may lose them.

It’s a non-negotiable part of the deal.

The possibility of losing love is part of the package of enjoying the love in the first place.

It’s just how it is. Sometimes we lose the people we love.

And the subsequent loss brings a painful grieving process with it.

It’s the price we pay for loving.

And I wouldn’t change it.

So instead of forcing my sadness deep within assisted by an onslaught of crisps and cake, I’m making a renewed commitment to myself to make time to grieve. Time to allow my tears to come forth, my sadness to be released. Secure in the knowledge that I will come through this with my heart still intact. I refuse to separate or cut off from my sadness or reduce myself to being half hearted. I will not settle for that.

I am choosing to remain full hearted. Even when it hurts to do so. Because this is the only way that I can remain fully connected and fully alive. And for however long I am gifted with the opportunity to live, I want to remain fully connected, fully feeling and fully living. Even now. Because I know that I will come through. I’ll be different as a result but I’ll still be fully alive.

And this business of staying fully alive is absolutely vital to me. Because I don’t believe for a nano second that my Jesus endured what he did on that cross for me to lamely settle for some little half hearted life where I’m shut off from everything that I don’t want to feel. Where in effect, I shut down the centre of who I am, the very lifeblood of my existence; my heart and soul. I just won’t do that.

And subsequently, I am trusting my Jesus to walk me through this. Every step of it. However long it takes. Whether I’m skipping, dancing or dragging myself. Because I believe that Jesus will help me to walk through my grief without relinquishing my ability to remain connected or whole. Or rather as whole as it is possible to be whilst this side of heaven.

It’s been a big wave. And it’s not done yet. But as I allow myself to engage more fully with my pain, I notice my joy for life, begin to filter back through. And somehow it’s sharper, clearer, more 3D, richer and fuller.

Grief hurts … but grief also heals.

It’s a paradox.

But one that it’s worthwhile engaging with.

At least if one wishes to continue living whilst living…

Healing …

Last week I went to a meeting where the subject of healing arose.

As a woman of God, I believe that God Almighty is the ultimate healer. That He is able to heal any of us from anything. I’ve heard about those who have witnessed limbs grow, sight be restored and even epilepsy be healed leaving no medical trace of ever having been present. I’ve heard many such miraculous accounts of healings evidenced and confirmed by the medical profession.

Wow, wow, wow.

We all love to hear about the miraculous.

Who doesn’t love a good ending?

By good I mean, when things turn out the way we want and think they should.

But what about when healing doesn’t happen?

Isn’t it just as important to talk about this reality too? About the pain, disappointment, confusion, doubt, disillusionment, resentment and the consequent effect upon faith. I’m talking about how it can really be rather than the super holy gloss we can hide behind.

Refusing to talk about these situations simply leaves us to struggle in silence. And that makes us unnecessarily vulnerable and isolated at the very time when support and understanding are most needed.

The fact is that sometimes God does not heal. (Think Paul and his thorn whatever that was.)

At least not in any way or timing that we can see or understand. And as far as I’m aware, we don’t know why. I imagine we know only the tiniest fraction of what our God is capable of or of what is going on within the spiritual world that remains largely unseen by our human eyes.

I accept this reality because I have learned to trust God and I am continuing to learn to do so as this is an ongoing, lifelong lesson that is learned through experience. Especially the unwanted hard experiences.

Knowing intellectually who God is, is great if you want to know how to talk a good talk. But if you want to actually walk that same talk, you have to know who God is on a heart level. And that means knowing in your heart that He is trustworthy even and especially when we do not see, know, understand or like the situation we find ourselves within, in this instance in the area of healing or rather not healing.

So, what to say about when God doesn’t heal?

Aside from the superficial response of, ‘there must be sin in your life or you don’t have enough faith’, most people are left to suffer in silence because a lot of people don’t like to acknowledge much less discuss the pain of not knowing why healing doesn’t always happen.

Of course there is truth that sometimes there is sin and sometimes there is unbelief, both of which can block healing. It doesn’t matter how able and willing God is to heal if amongst an environment that does not acknowledge any need for healing much less a willingness to ask. Even Jesus was limited in his ability to heal when amongst those with no belief in Him.

But, whilst everyone loves to share and hear about the miraculous examples of healing, when faced with the unhealed individual, there can be an unhelpful silence.

What I see is that people can get very hurt by a refusal to engage in discussion beyond the superficial realm of pat answers. And when the reality that none of us has all the answers, is not acknowledged in a sensitive, wise way, the impact on the individual can be a damaging one. Heart level damage. On top of whatever healing need there was to begin with. And when that is not tended to, it starts to steal the appetite for the spiritual. Because as much as emotions are often treated as the enemy, if left unaddressed these can damage our spiritual health. (And our physical health).

The bottom line is that sometimes God doesn’t heal and we don’t know why.

We can either accept this reality (which doesn’t mean we stop praying or give up) and seek God for a way to live within it or we can continue to make up unhelpful, damaging human reasons as to why this happens.

We all prefer to think that such matters are within our hands hence we like the sin or unbelief approach because these are within our power to rectify.

What we don’t like to admit is that actually we’re all at the mercy of the Almighty and we simply don’t see the whole picture.

As much as it seems rather appealing, how much faith would be required to trust a God that revealed and explained everything to us?

When we really trust God, we make a choice to trust Him no matter what and we focus instead on the business of meeting Him in the midst of the unhealed situation/unanswered prayer or whatever it is.

The healing may be a question of timing or it may never come this side of Heaven.

Hard but true.

Yet there are many examples of inspiring individuals who have gone on to fulfil their purposes for God in spite of vast physical injuries or limitations that they refused to allow to restrict God from working through them regardless.

Check out the website of Nick Vujicic; https://www.lifewithoutlimbs.org/, a man with no limbs but seemingly no limits. An inspirational example of living fully with what you do have.

Or for those who love a film based on a true story, see Soul Surfer which offers an honest illustration of the unavoidable process that takes us from experiencing the unspeakable through a painful process of grieving and adjustment in order to fully re-engage with life afresh with what we do have.

But as was highlighted last week by the excellent speaker Mark DuPont, there are also times when the healing doesn’t happen because for God to do so would be detrimental. In his example, an open leg wound that refused to heal and that wasn’t healed by God, eventually led via various medical professionals to the discovery of a damaged vein. This required dealing with before the external wound could heal.

In other words, the invisible root cause had to be identified and addressed before the visible, surface level symptoms could heal. If God had simply healed on a surface level, the unexposed root cause could have led to other issues, such as DVT as a frequent flyer.

We don’t see or understand all that is happening.

But God is trustworthy no matter how things look or feel to us.

He’s definitely not a half a job bob kind of a God. And way too loving to heal the symptom without the cause. But sometimes we have to go through a process in order to experience the healing. One where lessons are learned about God’s goodness even in the midst of pain that we don’t understand. Lessons that are not learned on the mountain top but the journey to get there.

Hard lessons but lessons that continue to move our faith beyond the intellect and in to the realms of heart level knowing. From which corresponding actions are made possible. Let us acknowledge that the man/woman on the top of the mountain didn’t fall there.

I don’t know why God allowed Mark to go on a long, painful journey to find his healing. We can all come up with our own ideas; meeting God during unanswered prayers and pain, learning that God sometimes heals through people – emphasizing our need for one another, obedience even when things don’t go our way (maturity), the call to persevere in all etc etc but the fact remains that none of us have all the answers and just as in Job’s day, our God does not have to explain or justify Himself to us.

In thinking about all of this, I can’t help but reflect upon my own ministry; healing of the heart and mind, especially as it’s becoming more and more common for individuals to experience physical symptoms as an expression of internal, invisible mental and emotional pain.

If God simply healed these physical manifestations with no thought for the root causes, how loving would such an act of healing really be? Simply reducing the symptom to seek alternative expression via other physical symptoms.

Neurologists are constantly coming face to face with an ever-increasing number of medically unexplainable physical symptoms. An increase that appears to coincide with the decrease in understanding of the importance of emotions and emotional health. Our Society is so fixated on external productivity that we are losing our souls in the process.

Whilst many like to imagine that emotions are some kind of poor relation to intellect, it is often the denied emotions that hold the power to bring us to our knees. Physically and spiritually.

Mental and emotional health matters.

The current resistance to addressing the internal issues of the heart is costing much in terms of health and even in terms of our experience of healing and indeed of the Healer.

We all love to experience God as healing us just like that and without our being required to having any input much less any pain, patience or work. It’s human nature.

But there comes a time when we need to learn to actively participate in our own healing by doing our part.

How else will we learn to grow up?

The time has long been here to take mental and emotional health seriously. A refusal to do so simply saps the appetite for the spiritual and without that, we’re really in trouble.

Overall, it is true that sin and unbelief do block healing.

It is equally true that in the absence of these, sometimes God doesn’t heal the physical symptom because it is indicating a deeper heart level issue that needs identifying and working through. A bit like physio for the soul – painful and costly but with life changing benefits.

According to my last pastors, during their thirty year healing ministry, 70% of people who came for physical healing were actually manifesting heart level distress. A figure that requires our attention for these issues do not disappear because we’ve pretended they don’t exist, that simply gives them permission to grow, fester and cause more damage. These issues actually need addressing along with the ultimate healer’s help to do so.

As I’ve said it is also true that sometimes God does not heal and we don’t know why.

This can be an incredibly painful, vulnerable and isolated experience for anyone. One where what is needed is love (in word and deed), compassion, support, encouragement and prayers. No one needs or benefits from the self-elected spiritual elite Job style friends.

God is our ultimate healer but sometimes we don’t experience the degree or level of healing we may want, whilst this side of Heaven.

The question is, will you allow this to stop you turning to the one who wants to comfort and help you to be all that you can be, during or in spite of any unanswered prayers for healing?

The Workplace Prison …

Last week I noticed a clear and recurring theme emerging.

A disturbing one.

It’s around current work place culture.

The notion that you should constantly clamber the career ladder irrespective of personal cost whether to your own health or that of your intimate relationships. And that should you fail to do so, you’ll lose your place in the race forever.

A kind of keeping up with the Joneses, corporate style.

Where people used to obsessively compete and compare with their neighbours using their homes as a measuring tool, irrespective of cost, physical or otherwise, the Joneses approach has gone corporate by extending its reign of ridiculousness to the territory of the workplace. Culminating in a destructive culture of excessive hours and responsibilities along with poor personal boundaries seemingly all in a bid to prove you’re more able to perform in a robotic and inhumane way than the next poor colleague who has become ensnared in this life stealing mindset.

As a result of this, I hear of many people staying within jobs that actually result in their body’s physically manifesting illness, being unable to sleep, some are anxious to the point of throwing up as part of their morning routine and others can’t manage anything outside the office besides gazing at the TV.

Consequently, relationships falter, health deteriorates and overall quality of life disappears. Going through the motions like the living dead becomes the new norm. So subtly and so gradually that it often remains undetected for vast expanses of time. As in years.

Of course the same corporate institution can evoke different responses in all but for many the current workplace culture has become nothing more than a prison. One that can lead to burnout, breakdown or a gradual robotization of our humanity.

Remember the saying, ‘If someone told you to jump off a cliff, would you do it?’. It seems we’ve gone a step further and that the revised question is, ‘if Society walks off a cliff, would you follow them?’

I’ve been hearing that this destructive ‘quality of life stealing’ culture is even rampant within universities where it appears to be largely accepted that to ‘do well’, whatever that may mean, is to accept that a breakdown under the pressure to perform, is an inevitable part of the journey.

Recent stats around mental health suggest the problems are actually starting in primary age children – passed down through the generations and aided by a culture obsessed with external productivity. As if we are merely machines without a heart, soul or spirit.

Shocking.

And completely unacceptable.

When did we reduce our young people to becoming academia producing robots devoid of a healthy inner or emotional life or achieving fully rounded humanity?

And when did we forget that even machines can crash when overloaded.

Maybe when the adults fell in to role modelling this by remaining in any workplace that has become little more than a prison.

Do people really believe that ‘just because everyone else’ is doing this, that it’s normal? Or healthy? Or can even be passed off for living?

Is this where fear of the unknown, keeps people imprisoned by that old lie, ‘better the devil you know’.

Is it the tormenting taunts of said devil who whispers, ‘but you know the inside of this prison, you don’t know what it will be like out there beyond these prison walls?’ that keeps so many committed to their prison of choice?

Is it familiarity that keeps people choosing albeit passively, to stay within these types of prisons that steal quality of health, life and relationships?

Does it matter if you don’t know what life beyond your own particular prison looks like if you know the current one is destroying you?

Has our society really been fooled in to believing that life is one long prison sentence whereby we merely get to choose what we will allow to imprison us. In other words which particular prison we will choose to inhabit? Whether the workplace prison or any other institution or even that of an unhealthy relationship?.

I’ve been hearing recently that when one person finally reaches breaking point within their workplace prison, opens their eyes and realises that looking after their own life and health IS an option and IS more valuable than continuing to allow it to destruct within such environments, they quit. At which point, they are clamoured after by all and sundry, to stay. Suddenly pay rises are possible and all the stops are pulled out to keep the one who has decided to walk free, from doing so.

I just keep hearing this right now. Just as one person discovers the courage to open their prison door and start to walk free, the other ‘prisoners’ clamour for them as they go, making vain attempts to pull them back. It’s as if without the courage to release themselves all they feel able to do is to try and stop others.

And that’s the thing about walking free, once you taste it and I mean really taste it, you want others to discover it for their own lives whatever that may mean or look like for them. It’s simply too good not to share.

I realise of course that we all need to earn a living. Absolutely true for us all. But what exactly do we mean by ‘living’ because any job or other situation that destroys your health, relationships or life in general doesn’t equate to living. More, perhaps, to dying.

It is only when people begin to realise that however far back it was, it was THEY who had walked in to their particular prison and therefore it is THEY who can also walk back out again.

In doing so, people tend to go through an often painful, lengthy re-evaluation process which has allowed them to come out the other side to re train or simply to work in a totally different area or way. It usually but not always involves a reduction in earnings. At least initially. Something many would rather run themselves in to an early grave before they would be willing to do. But those who are willing to go through this go on to reclaim their peace, joy, health, sleep, self-respect, motivation and life itself.

In other words, they start living again.

I’m fortunate enough to speak from personal experience as one who left my own workplace prison some thirteen years ago. I’ve walked the path. And I’m still walking the path. It’s long, hard, messy, painful, uncomfortable and costly. But not as much as avoiding it. And I am immensely grateful for the many who have and who continue to help me along it.

Once free, it’s a natural response to help others become free because you realise that you’re not competing with those around you but walking your own path. And you discover from hard won experience that when one enters freedom we all benefit.

Life is short.

It can end at any moment.

Is it really worth choosing to spend whatever precious moments we are given, living in a prison of our own choosing and creation?

Of course, I’m not talking here about situations over which we truly have no control. That’s a whole different area over which we can control only our response. After all, none of us are actually entitled to anything in this life.
I think it’s too easy to forget that anything we are given is a gift, be it health, life, relationships, time, money, or anything else.

But if we’re really honest with ourselves do we sometimes write certain situations off as having no control over them when this is not entirely true? But more the whisperings of our fear?

Do you have the courage to release yourself from your workplace prison?

Or to say yes to going in search of that which brings you to life and gives you a reason to live. A purpose. An enthusiasm for parting company with the duvet of a morning?

Or will you live, or should I say exist alongside that old adage, ‘better the devil you know’.

Now, I’m not talking about constantly searching for greener pastures. The grass will be as green as you are willing to invest in it becoming. But if you know you’re in a situation that’s crushing the life out of you, what are you going to do about it? Because change takes work and work takes time and effort and usually a lot of help. And these things don’t just happen by themselves.

There is of course no such thing as a perfect job or even a perfect anything in this life but if you know your workplace has become a prison and you’ve allowed yourself to stay irrespective of personal cost because you’ve been backed in to a corner by the taunts of the fear promoting what if brigade, it may just be time to re-evaluate.

Life really is too short to allow a workplace prison to stop you living fully.

From Death to Life …

As I consider the call to new life as reflected through nature, I cannot help but be drawn to Jesus and the Cross. I recently watched Mary Magdalene and with Easter all around us, I am reminded that Jesus is the ultimate invitation to new life.

His surrender to death on the cross was an act of total trust in God the Father. Jesus trusted God with His life and God turned around the pain of his death on the cross to bring great hope and healing to all people. Ultimately, as an invitation to a new life with God via Jesus.

So if we strip back all the Christianese surrounding the Cross (not to mention all those chocolate eggs and bunnies), what happened went something like this.

Way back when, Adam and Eve lived in perfect connection with God, in the garden of Eden. They had access to everything they could have wanted. But, like us in the present day, they fell in to the trap of believing that it was not enough and subsequently they bought the serpent’s lie that they should have MORE.

This led them to eat from the one tree that God had asked them not to. By disobeying God, they broke the perfect connection between them. In came the culture of blame. Adam blamed Eve. Eve blamed the serpent.

The innocence, trust, unity and peace they had enjoyed with each other and with God, got broken. In its place, shame, fear, selfishness, strife and division entered humanity. Things got proper messed up.

After this fall out between Adam, Eve and God, the shame they felt about what they had done, caused them to hide from God in fear. But God did not punish them in whatever way they thought they deserved or had expected, for God loved them so much that he wanted to help them find their way back to him. He didn’t want them to be separated by fear of punishment. But, their disobedience was not without consequence for they were banished from the garden of Eden.

Ever since then, our relationships with each other and with God, have been problematic. Without a perfect connection with God, us humans make mistakes, do things we shouldn’t and fail to do what we could, usually out of fear, greed, pride or selfishness. It is now in our nature. There is no such thing as a perfect human. These don’t exist. Not since the fall out. Not now. Aside perhaps from in the minds of the more deluded. But these traits entered during the big fall out in Eden and they don’t fully disappear until we are reunited with God in Heaven.

None of this means that us humans don’t also do some pretty amazing, selfless, pioneering, wonderful things too though. Because we do.

But we all get hurt and we all do wrong and we all have wrong done to us. And all too often we turn away from the very God who wants to help us because we’ve learned to either blame Him for our own actions or those of others, or for the hardships that come our way, or we simply dismiss Him as fantasy.

Anyway, these wrong doings that started with Adam and Eve were rectified by the sacrifice of animal life and in doing so, temporarily reconnected the people to God. But as we’re constantly messing up if only in small ways, this was a continual process of making animal sacrifices, meaning the connection between God and the people was constantly dropping out. A bit like a poor internet service.

This wasn’t good enough.

God wanted a better connection with his people. Although He is often painted as being a God who awaits the chance to punish us, He doesn’t treat us as we may at times deserve. He is too loving a God for that and instead He seeks ways to connect with us by revealing his love for us in spite of ourselves. But as we have seen, our poor choices are not without consequence.

So, because God was unsatisfied with the poor connection between us, He devised a cunning plan. He sent Jesus to show us what God looks like in human form and in action. Jesus was able to showcase the heart of God by demonstrating his love and power through healing humans during his life and ministry. Jesus even raised a few people from the dead. Miraculous.

But God also sent Jesus to re-establish the connection between us and God once and for all by paying the price for our wrongdoings (past, present and future) so that we would no longer be dependent upon an unreliable, unchanging, dropping out regularly type of connection. Instead we could each become and remain connected to God anytime we want. This means that because of Jesus, we can each tap in to God’s love and power to bring healing to our own and others hearts.

Wow!

No more continual sacrificing of animals to pay for our mess ups. Jesus became THE sacrifice, through his death, that gives us ongoing connection to God, His love, His power to heal and the new life that He has for us. Awesome or what?

But how did this come about?

Jesus trusted God.

(NB that Jesus is also God because God is made up of three parts; Jesus is the human part, God is Father, creator and so much more and the third part is the Holy Spirit which was given to us after Jesus left, to speak God’s divine wisdom in to our hearts. See the film The Shack for some creative ideas on this.)

Anyway, God asked Jesus to submit to the authority on earth, despite the fact this authority led Jesus to the cross. Jesus, being God too, could have said ‘no thanks, I’m not really up for that’. Let’s face it, who amongst us could blame him. But he didn’t. Even though, like us, Jesus had the free will to choose, he chose to obey God because he trusted him.

Let us not pretend that this was easy for him. The bible tells us that Jesus sweat blood and tears during the night before the cross. He knew how easy it would be to turn away in fear and that the only way that he could face what He had been called to do, was by calling upon the help of God in prayer.

In surrendering to God’s will to submit to the authority, Jesus freely chose to be led to the most unimaginable pain of the cross. At which point Jesus fulfilled his purpose here on Earth. In life, he showed us the Father’s love in action through healing. In death, he reconnected us to the Father forever more.

Jesus basically rather generously paid through his death for us to have the new life that connection with the Father brings. He has paid the price for everything any of us have, do or will do wrong, so that nothing can ever disconnect us from God again. Jesus is the middle man of all middle men.

We all still have the freedom to ignore the invite to connect with God through Jesus. And let’s face it, Society certainly encourages us to overlook the meaning of Easter by wrapping it in a mass of Chocolate, coloured eggs and cute bunnies.

And if we didn’t come to God freely, it wouldn’t be love but fear and that’s not what He’s looking for. Whilst many have unfortunately bought in to the lie that God is a petty, punitive God looking for chances to punish us with trouble, the truth is that although pain and trials undoubtedly come (Jesus knows all about that), it is God Himself that empowers us to overcome them. So, if we’ve fallen for the lie that God is to blame, we will miss out on the help he offers to bring us through and heal us along the way. (As to why God allows bad stuff to happen, that’s another whole matter – ask your pastor about that one).

Basically it all comes down to trust. Because when we trust God, like Jesus did, no matter how awful things look or are in life, we know that God will turn around the worst situation to bring something of great goodness from it. But that requires us to persevere. Sometimes for a very, very long time before that good thing happens and if we don’t really trust we’ll probably give up before we get there.

So, this Easter, take a moment to consider the meaning of Jesus willingly going to the cross for us. Irrespective of what we’ve come through, how we may have messed up in life, how others may have mistreated us, how broken we are, how desperate for real love or whether we’re simply seeking greater purpose and meaning in life, Jesus knows. He gets us and he gets suffering but he offers to connect us to the God who can help us to find our way out of our old lives and in to the new life that He is calling us to. The God that helps us to fulfil our respective purposes here on Earth, in spite of the rubbish life hurls our way.

What an offer.

Jesus died on Good Friday, which really didn’t look too good at that point.

Rather, it looked like the new life that Jesus taught and promised had died with him.

But no, God raised Him up again on Easter Monday to bring him in to new life.

In doing so God extended the invitation in to new life, through Jesus, to every single one of us.

And God is still extending His personal invitation to us all …

All we have to do this Easter to enter in to this new life, is believe and receive what Jesus has done for us.

And yes, it really is that easy and that’s why it’s called Good News!

The Mosaic of Mothering …

Mother and child exist not in isolation but within a greater community.

As I make my way through all the consumeristic displays that precede Mothering Sunday, I feel compelled to write.

Wherever I look, I’m confronted with cards and displays dressed with captions about the most wonderful mothers.

What about all those for whom this is not the reality, for whatever reason?

Now before I go any further, let me attempt to clarify my position. I believe that mothers and indeed fathers, have THE most important, challenging, testing, demanding, self-sacrificing, potentially heart breaking but equally rewarding job, that any human being can ever have. I really do.

And I regularly see the impact of where things go wrong, within my work.

I have been fortunate enough to have been mothered by various women at different times, in different ways. I am grateful to each. But as I have no children of my own I cannot profess to know what it is to be a mother, because put simply, I don’t. But I have talked with and more importantly listened to, many who are mothers. Whilst these conversations in no way qualify me to know what it is to be a mother, I have often been astounded, impressed, humbled and amazed by many women’s capacity to give to their children. Many offer the gift that just keeps giving.

I’ve noticed that the production of a child (miraculous enough in itself) usually results in the appearance of a mind blowing and seemingly endless supply of resourcefulness that allows a mother to rise to the relentless and varied demands of mothering a child. I’ve been repeatedly struck by the ability of a mother to pretty much turn her hand to anything including the creation of something from virtually nothing, when attempting to meet her child’s needs. This creativity alone is to be applauded. I am in awe!

As such I have the utmost respect for many such mothers in their quest to love, protect and provide for their children.

How women manage to work in addition to the nonstop business of mothering, particularly in the absence of a partner, is quite beyond me. I don’t just throw my hat off to these women, I throw it sky high and beyond. Total respect.

I’ve also noticed that most mothers worry about what they’ve done right, what they could have done differently and any subsequent impact upon their children. I respect their humility, whilst only being able to imagine at the discomfort of considering the inevitability of what doesn’t go so well and how this is managed.

I have the incredible privilege of working with many individuals who are willing and able, with some assistance, to invest their time and energy examining their own unresolved pain from childhood and in doing so, reducing the knock-on effect upon their own children. My respect for these individuals knows no limits.

The truth is that there is no such thing as a perfect mother or parent.

At least not in human form.

We’re all flawed, parent or not.

But as my training has taught me, we all need a good enough mother, especially but not exclusively during our formative years. Of course, what this looks like could be cause for discussion.

What is clear is that mothers deserve acknowledgement and support in recognition of the enormity and importance of their job. I think most of us would agree with the quote about it taking a community to raise a child. I wonder if we would also agree that it equally takes a community, not just a mother, to fail a child.

Therefore, as we enter Mothering Sunday, I consider it right and proper to stop to recognise and celebrate the amazing breed of women who grow, birth, raise and love their children. Absolutely. I don’t imagine any of us non-mothers, female or male, will ever truly appreciate the extent of the sacrifice.

But, is it really necessary when celebrating the monumental gift of mothering, to ignore those aspects of the mosaic of mothering that exist beyond the most wonderful?

Is it even really possible to truly value or appreciate the depth of the gift of mothering whilst only acknowledging part of the picture? Is it not the presence of all parts of a picture that give it meaning and context?

If we can celebrate the gift of mothering, can we not also acknowledge the enormity of the loss when it is absent or has failed?

In reality, Mother’s Day is indeed a joyous occasion for many, but not for all.

Not for those mother’s subject to a parent’s worst nightmare; the death of a child.

Or for those who have been coerced in to giving up their baby at birth and who go on to spend a lifetime longing for a reunion.

Or for those for whom their mother died in childbirth or prematurely from a tragic accident or illness.

And what of the mother who abandons, neglects or abuses her children or allows others to do so. Not to mention the adults those children become. Or for the mother who murders her child. All of which indicate a much bigger society sized issue which require a society shaped response.

The bottom line is that there are many people who just haven’t received adequate mothering, for a whole myriad of reasons, some of which I’ve stated above. This leaves a pain and loss, whose effects can be far reaching to the point of life destroying in the extreme, if left unaddressed. Not least in how we subsequently and often unconsciously, mother ourselves. And whilst we refuse to acknowledge this reality, we fail not only the struggling mother but also their children. The ripple effect of which impacts us all.

Part of the problem is that it is often considered socially unacceptable to even mention the fuller mosaic of mothering. At least openly or publicly. Culture forbids it.

Hence we see Mother’s day becoming seemingly more sugar coated with each passing year. As if somehow, by doing so, we can obscure if not obliterate the wider if more unsavoury reality. In doing this, we further isolate and separate those who not only see but experience the bigger picture, often to their detriment. We also dilute the meaning of truly outstanding mothers. All whilst failing to adequately address the underlying issues that cause severe failures, thus guaranteeing their perpetuation.

Fortunately, it doesn’t have to be this way.

Not if we can update the status of ‘struggling mothers’ from taboo, to ‘utmost importance’.

Before I end, there is another type of mother I consider worthy of a mention and that is those precious women who may not have given birth to us, but who have generously assisted us with the process of giving birth to our truest selves. Not that this process ever really ends.

I know many women who’ve had difficult relationships with their own mothers for all manner of reasons but who have also connected deeply with other women with whom they have formed special, maternal bonds. An especially precious union which benefits both.

Within my own life, I feel fortunate to have been mothered by a few over the years. But I shall remain especially grateful to the one who showed me over the best part of the last decade, what it is to be on the receiving end of the type of unconditional love that protected, encouraged, enjoyed, believed in and loved me, in spite of myself. For she remains a gift that only God Himself could have given. And as God Himself also took her away again earlier this year, I will grieve her recent death and her ongoing absence this Mother’s Day. But I will equally remember and treasure the gift of her love which lives on within me.

Equally, I shall mourn the impact of the unresolved generational issues surrounding mothering within my own family.

Both are real and true.

They do not cancel one another out.

They coexist.

And both have taught me much.

In summary, Mother’s Day can never offer one meaning for all when there is so much that makes up the mosaic of mothering.

Let us not reduce this Mother’s Day to a one-dimensional affair that excludes many whilst reducing the depth, context and meaning of any of it.

Let us each take the time this Mother’s Day to identify, recognise, appreciate and acknowledge the mothering we have each received, wherever it may have come from.

For it is truly a gift and not a given.

But let us equally acknowledge the pain for many of its absence.

The Seasons are Shifting …

It’s snowing!

As I look out of my kitchen window, I feel like I’m looking in to a real live snow globe! And I wonder how long it will be before it settles down.

As I do so I reflect upon the shifting of the seasons. It feels very much as if the winds of change are blowing (from the East apparently!). There may be snow on the ground but there are also buds of new life in evidence. Although I’m not sure how they will fare following this snow!

We’re in between seasons, no longer fully in Winter yet undeniably not yet in Spring. Signs of both seasons are present. We’re in transition. And this happens every single year. Maybe at slightly different times and in differing ways but the seasons come and the seasons go. We know and accept this. Even with all the weather associated grumblings that make us English!

Yet how much more as humans can we resist the changing seasons of the soul. We can fall in to the ‘comfort’ of just wanting life to stay the same. At least if things are going well. And even when they’re not, we can still opt for the familiar over the unknown.

Yet nature reminds us that nothing stays the same. Ever. Everything changes. Constantly. Either that or it dies.

We too are invited to be open to change. Not just to find a nice comfortable way to live and stay there forever more. But to be open to the ongoing changing seasons along with all the endings and loss that precipitate growth and new life.

As I observe the shifting of the seasons of nature, I know that I cannot make the winter stay simply to avoid the change that Spring will bring. I equally know that I cannot fast track in to spring to avoid the dead and the cold of winter. I accept this and I trust it.

The external changes I see within nature reflect something of the internal changing of the seasons of my soul. I can’t see them in the same way and I don’t know what the new season will look like. I know only that it will not be the same as the previous or existing one.

My season of the soul is effectively under review.

It is no longer what it was, neither is it yet what it will be.

It is in transition.

I am in transition.

Strange but exciting.

When I look back to the season of last year, I see new life in the areas of work, play and ministry. It was full of colourful and varied expressions of creativity from the kitchen to the garden, to my work and ministry.

I felt full of life and new ventures. It was exciting, enlivening, over full in honesty and at times terrifying. But I loved it. Mostly. I felt very alive.

Then the death of a loved one came and I was stopped in my tracks. I tried to resume life as I’d known it before but I couldn’t. I needed to pull back, slow down, stop, rest, heal and reconsider all.

As I continue to do this, I notice a natural stripping back occurring. As a self-employed individual, the financial controller part of myself has started to ask some uncomfortable questions. Fortunately, these days the spiritual part of me has walked with God for long enough to know that when things suddenly start shifting, I need to pay attention for God is on the move and in control. And way more dependable than any finance.

I have learned and I am continuing to learn way beyond the honeymoon period of knowing, through many periods of doubt and despair, that no matter what is happening in my life or how I feel about it, God remains trustworthy in all matters. Not for life to be how I want or to be exempt from the trials but that He is always there ready to help me to overcome whatever comes at me that I may continue becoming all that I have been made to be. As well as continuing to pursue the paths, the plans and the purposes that He has for me. No matter what. For His plans always supersede anything I could ever come up with.

And so, as I realise that it is God who is stripping me back right now, I am beginning to loosen my grip upon all things known in my life that the winds of change may take away that which I need to let go of to make room for that which I am being prepared for.

This is a live process. It’s moving constantly and hard to capture in words right now. I don’t really know what is happening within me. I don’t really know what the outcome of this seasonal shifting will be. I don’t know what I will have to relinquish from my life nor what I will find in its place. I don’t really know what will happen, when or how. I know only that it is happening. And that I can fight this process out of fear or I can surrender and embrace what is to come out of expectation and anticipation. Ultimately out of trust for the one who does know for I believe that it is He who is engineering this seasonal shifting.

Trust is such a key element of being a human. Trust in ourselves, in our God, in others and in life. Trust that just as nature reminds us that the seasons do what they need to facilitate the next season, so too do we when we trust and surrender.

We can’t stay in any one season forever more. It isn’t possible. Everything that lives continues to move, to change and to grow. Including us. But we each must choose whether to go with this or to fight it.

Imagine attempting to stop summer from ever ending. With no stripping back, no season of rest, everything would eventually die off. New life would cease to continue. Ditto with us humans.

New life wants to spring forth within us all. But this cannot happen without the season of pruning, stripping back and rest that facilitate the emergence of new life. Without which something within us begins to die.

We trust in the seasons of nature, that no matter how long it takes, the snow will eventually go and spring will burst forth bringing a colourful array of new life with it. And maybe even some warm sunshine!

Can we trust too in the seasons of the soul?

Can we allow the changes to come?

Not fight to keep things the same?

Not hold so tightly to the old and familiar that we block the arrival of the new and unknown?

Can we simply surrender through trust to the shifting of the seasons?

When I look back fifteen years, my life today bears no resemblance to what it did back then. And I praise God daily for that. When I look back five years ago, my life was entirely different. When I look back a year ago, some things were the same, many were not. Life doesn’t stop ebbing and flowing, birthing new things, seeing others end.

It’s a living thing this life and all living things must go through seasons in order to stay alive. And this includes us.

When I look around at the moment, I see much change occurring in the lives of my friends. Seasonal shifts. A letting go of the old. For some, relinquishing positions they had held for twenty odd years. A willingness to make space for something new. Even when the new thing is not yet seen. A willingness to trust and surrender to the process of life and living and changing and growing.

The winds of change are clearly blowing.

The seasons are indeed shifting.

I don’t know what this means for me or my life right now but I do know that I want to shift with them. I don’t want to get left behind. I’m not sure what will happen as a result but I trust that in the right time, that which is currently unclear will become clear.