Forgetful Exiles October 29, 2007

We were teaching the youth group yesterday about the time when the Israelites were deceived by the people of Gibeon (Joshua 9). They’d just won an amazing victory over Jericho with God’s help, they’d learned the necessity of obeying God at Ai, and yet they still overlooked the need to consult God before making the treaty. Reading the passage, we were quite incredulous at this, and yet aware that we, so often, do the same thing.

 I have a quote stuck to the side of my computer screen at work. It says:

“Divorced from the brilliant light, we live in a type of exile from our true selves and what is deepest in creation. Forgetful of our nobility, we live in ignorance instead of wisdom, fear instead of love, fantasy instead of reality. The Gospel is given to restore our memory of what lies deepest within us.” (Peter Newell)

So often I see the effects of that ‘divorce’, in my life, and in the life of my family and my church. I see it played out on the streets of Wandsworth, I hear its whisper in the newspaper articles I read. So many situations and so many people trying to ‘make their mark’ and ‘find themselves’, and ending up further from where they started.

In Seville, one of the speakers commented that her prayer was that with every year she lived, God would slowly change her, so that bit by bit she became the person He dreamed her to be. She said she hoped that, at 45, she was more like Him than at 25. I really liked that idea – I think so often, in the world of prayer, we ask God to change people, and expect instant results. It’s comforting that, for all of us, it is a gradual shifting and changing and reshaping. We might not feel like anything is happening, but with hindsight we can see the transformation.

When I pray for Wandsworth, too often I come from that place of forgetfulness and ignorance – I see the mess and chaos and discord that surrounds, but I forget the good things that God has already done, I forget the litany of small, daily miracles.

When I pray for God to change the Salvation Army, often I feel weighed down, feeling there is too much to do, too far to go, etc. I forget the stories I hear of individuals changing, of new expressions of church, of young people with a passion and hunger for holiness.

In these areas, and in all the things I am praying for, I need to remember to look at the situation, remembering God’s love, wisdom and reality. I need to keep remembering what Jesus says in John 15:15, and the amazing difference it makes:

“I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends.”

 Too often, I crash around like the Israelites, forgetting what God has done, or deliberately choosing not to consult Him. I am praying that, day by day, God will increasingly restore my memory of that which “lies deepest within me.” And that, in partnership, I will be able to pray from this place. 

A tale of three churches October 28, 2007

Back in the day, we used to joke about the old Salvation Army world, where, on a Sunday, you went to a service morning, afternoon and evening, and squeezed ‘knee drill’ prayer meetings in between. In our currently buildingless state, I find myself feeling a bit like one of those early day salvos, as my Sundays keep getting jam packed.

This morning, I found myself at a Baptist church. I’ve wandered in for Wandsworth prayer meetings and the commissioning of the new minister, but had never been there on a normal, run of the mill Sunday. It was good to feel the ‘new person in church’ fear, as we walked in and I realised I knew no-one, and also good to be able to sit back and watch, without having to think about leading/admin/whether I will need to remind anyone about missed announcements etc.

We heard some fab stories: one woman had just come back from Malta where she had seen some healings etc. Another lady worked in an orphanage in an African country. She was telling us about the inflation there – how millions of their dollars amounts to £1 over here. It was a challenging story and again reminded me how much we have in comparison.

The message was all about grace and mercy – how grace means getting what we don’t deserve, and mercy means not getting what we do deserve… I liked that description.

In the afternoon, we gathered in our temporary, borrowed hall and did church as a boiler room. It was the usual chaos of manic last-minute photocopying, running around looking for chairs, story telling, sharing chocolate coins, catching up with family, praying bold prayers, raucous singing, Bibles falling off pews, etc. It was nice to see everyone again and share a bit about Seville.

This evening I went to my friends house, we have an informal, often random cell meeting on Sunday evenings, where we share stuff from our week, try and make sense of some Bible stuff, pray a bit and generally try and be open and accountable. (Tonight this process was aided by a roast chicken dinner, and ‘Best 90’s Love Songs’ on TMF… a winner!)

 I love that having no church building right now gives us the opportunity to be flexible and try things differently. I like it that there aren’t really any rules, and it is not possible to get stuck in the rut of routine, because everything changes so quickly! I like visiting different congregations and learning from them, and I love it that three of us sitting around chatting, to a background of Bryan Adams, counts as church.

 I really hope that we don’t lose this type of thinking when we have the building back. I really pray we don’t get set in our ways again and stop being imaginative.

I really hope I can stay open and enjoy the challenges of thinking and doing church differently, whatever happens in the next few months.

Seville October 24, 2007

I spent last week in the delightful vicinity of Seville, Spain. I’d never been to Spain before, having been ever put off by the tales of fellow Brits visiting and generally heaping shame on our nation. I also have a preference for freezing cold temperatures, frozen sea and vast quantities of snow, so finding myself amidst blazing heat and sunshine was an unusual thing for me.

I went to Seville to take part in the 24-7 Prayer Feast – a gathering of about 200 people, from all over the world, who met to pray (logical that one), worship, meet old and new friends and generally celebrate. And celebrate we did, gathering on the Saturday night in an awesome Sevillian villa, where we had Tapas, danced Flamenco stylee, took communion, partied and prayed. I met some great people, from far flung destinations such as Macedonia and Mineappolis, Luton and Lithuania. It was so inspiring to hear people’s stories, to laugh and cry with them, and to join in dreaming big dreams for their communities.

There’s lots I could say about Seville. I could tell you of the beautiful commissioning of the work of 24-7 in Ireland and New Zealand, of the story of a girl from Macedonia whose life was redeemed and turned around when she ventured into a church, of stories about struggle and triumph from Ibiza, Ramsdorf and Mexico. Listening to everyone’s stories reminded me again how much of a difference prayer can make, and reinvigorated me to pray with more passion for the change I want to see, both in Wandsworth, in my friends and family, and in The Salvation Army as a denomination.

 I could also tell you about the days I spent in Seville before the feast began: days when I had a rare holiday, where I spent time thinking and wondering and sketching crazy abstract thoughts into a notebook. Days where I had the opportunity to wander and daydream, with no particular schedule or plan or need to be anywhere, the night I spent in a posh hotel, bouncing on the bed and loving the plush surroundings (albeit feeling slightly out of place in the luxury!). I could also tell you how hard I found it to stop, how difficult it was, on occasion, without the usual friends, family and forms of communication surrounding me.

Maybe I’ll comment more on these things in the days to come: the things it seemed God was writing in big letters on the youth hostel ceiling (the youth hostel ceiling, which, I have to admit, was much less plush than that in the first hotel!), maybe I should expand on the things I understood with greater clarity for being away, the changes of tone and direction the week seemed to set.

But for now, it feels that although my body and being is back in Wandsworth, my brain hasn’t quite arrived yet. Maybe I left it on my creaky youth hostel bed, maybe it is crammed reluctantly under my ryanair seat, or maybe it is circling, lonely and abandoned on a Stansted baggage reclaim belt. I am hoping to be reunited with it soon though, because, lovely though my sense of absence and vague disconnection is; the sudden forgetfulness, long moments of staring mutely at a computer screen, and the lack of ability to wake up or warm up is proving professionally restrictive at present.

Maybe it is enough to say that I had a great time,

That God was good,

That I must take time out more often.

Another day, another blog? October 24, 2007

Why has she moved blog again? I hear you ask… Was it not enough that we had to track her down through the world of cyberspace? Following spurious links and avoiding dead ends (Googling Vicki Adams will bring up a property developer in Monrovia and other gems… apparently I’m a singer/songwriter in Louisiana too…)

Partly I moved blog because WordPress is free. Partly I moved because I wanted my blog posts to appear on Facebook. Partly I wanted a fresh blogging start. Whereas it’s great to read back over old archives and read what God has been up to over the past few months, I don’t think it hurts to clear out the proverbial cupboard shelves, wave a metaphorical feather duster around, and start over. (Am I the only one who invariably finds a dented can of mandarin segments lurking at the back of said cupboard, usually multiple months out of date?!) 

If you want to read back, the archives can be found at http://vickiadams.typepad.com. If I’m on your blogroll, please amend this to reflect my new bloggic home, if I am not… well, why is that?

 Hope you have had a lovely day xx