Protests and Prayer November 29, 2007

So, they plan to open a ‘adult entertainment’ venue in the middle of Wandsworth. We found out about three weeks ago, and so the past three weeks have passed in a flurry of letter writing, prayerwalks around the proposed venue, networking and dropping the proposal into every possible conversation.

On Sunday we had a bank of laptops set up so people could write letters opposing the plans and we could send them en masse to the council.

Last week the SA’s reseach and development unit sent us loads of facts and figures showing that clubs of this nature can increase crime, disorder and human trafficking. Not things we want to see increasing in Wandsworth!!

We also had an MP and a councillor join us as we prayerwalked outside. It was great to partner with the authorities in fighting this thing.

Today I was riding on a bus and I saw some billboards for the local paper. In big capital letters I saw, “SALVATION ARMY PRAYS FOR LAPDANCERS.” It struck me as a funny headline, but it did make me think that all the letter writing and protesting is good, but if the club does open I feel we have to take a different tack. It is not enough to simply say “We don’t want this place”, we need to act. And I don’t mean in a standing outside shouting at those who enter, I mean going inside, meeting the people who use the club and providing chapliancy to the girls etc.

Social Justice is one of the fundamental elements that make up the Boiler Room, and I am uncertain how much justice will go on in a place like this. But I know it is not enough just to pray and protest… it is vital to act too.

You can read the newspaper article here: http://www.yourlocalguardian.co.uk/search/display.var.1863830.0.salvation_army_prays_to_stop_lap_dancing_club.php

Prophetic Irony November 26, 2007

I’ll start with a confession – I am not very good at preparing things in advance.

Usually I can be found the day before a seminar or conference, holed away scribbling my talk. Either that or I prepare really well three weeks beforehand, but still find myself making manic last-minute changes. Sometimes I find myself smiling in amusement as I speak, finding myself following pencilled-in arrows or stars to extra bits I wanted to fit in, I’ll leave myself one-word reminders at the side of the page, anything to jog my memory.

Today is probably one of the days when I realise the flaws in my cunning system!! Tonight I am off to Staines Salvation Army to talk on ‘Does God Heal Today?’. In theory it should be an easy talk to do. I believe he does, I have seen evidence of this, and I am excited that I have the opportunity to meet the group of young people and chat this stuff through with them.

The irony comes in the fact that, personally, over the past couple of weeks, I seem to have been faced with those situations where God seems silent, where Heaven remains unmoved however fervently I pray, and where I feel like I am beating my fists on God’s chest and begging him for things, rather than praying with any logic or clarity.

I find myself teaching on healing, when I have watched people’s prayers for it remain unanswered.

I find myself desperately wanting to speak good news, to tell stories of transformation and miracle and wonder, whilst I am grappling with the situations of despair, hopelessness and pain around me.

I know that God is good – I love the passage where Jesus says He came to give life, and life in fullness and abundance. And yet I am all too aware of the beginning of that very verse, which speaks of the thief who seeks to steal, kill and destroy.  

Often I think we tend to skim over the stories of this silence and confusion, because if we admit to its existence then suddenly we’re not too sure of where we are anymore. If God can heal, but he hasn’t… why is that?

Are we not worth it?

Did we do something wrong?

And what about the times when God seems to half-answer our prayers? When we pray and things improve a little, but not completely? Sometimes we are left wishing he hadn’t – surely no change is better than a shadow that briefly inflames our hopes, only for them to be dashed later.

As I have been thinking and wrestling with this, God has brought me back, again and again, to a picture of me as a little girl. In it, I am huddled under my Victoria Plum duvet. It is late, but it is not dark, as it must be summer. I am curled in a ball and I’m praying with a fervency I’m not sure I’ve matched since that night:                                                     

“God, If you’re real, If you can hear me, Please change this, please help me, please rescue me.”                                                                                                                                   

My tears mix with the words as I repeat them over and over again. I am breathless, I am begging him, I am desperately interceding to some concept of a God I have never experienced. I have never seen him answer prayer before, but I have been told he does, and in that lies my only hope. I remember the thoughts running through my mind:              

“Maybe I’m not saying the right things”, “Maybe I’m too bad for him to answer anyway”, “Maybe the stories of him I heard are just that:…stories.”       

I remember the fervent prayers of the little girl hiding under the duvet, and I am almost moved to tears when I see how the God I barely knew stepped in and answered those. 

I am sure that God heals today because I am living it out every day.   

And even though the situations and struggles of life sometimes threaten to suffocate me, I will never forget what I have seen God do. I guess I’ll aways remember, too, the frustration that came as part and parcel of this. The waiting for God to act, the incomplete answers to prayer, the elements of that prayer I am still praying and waiting and battling for today.  

I am sure that the timing of this talk was not accidental. I cannot see it as a cosmic coincedence. I cannot stand in front of a room of teenagers tonight and give them a glib, formulaic answer to the question. I can, however, speak of being part of a journey towards answers, a journey where joy seams through, whether God’s plan seems crystal clear, or shrouded in the fog of uncertainty.

I plan to finish my talk this eve with the following verse, from a song by Matt Redman. I turn to it again and again in times like this:

“Blessed be Your name
When the sun’s shining down on me
When the world’s ‘all as it should be’
Blessed be Your name.
Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there’s pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name.”

I guess that’s all we can say. And I guess that this is enough.

Sharing Stories November 22, 2007

Do you ever feel as if you are having the same conversation over and over again? As if you have somehow slipped into a parallel universe where every time you talk it comes around to the same topic or theme?

I feel like I have lived in a permanent sense of deja vu over the past three or four weeks. It started when I was up in Liverpool – ‘How can we live differently?’, ‘What does it mean to be people of prayer and mission in the SA now?’, ‘What are the new things God has for us? and has for us to do?’

Then last week, in meetings and over countless coffees… I saw and heard people’s dreams for a picture that God seems to be painting with us. We are different people, in different locations, but the heartbeat is the same.

I heard it again on Saturday as I gathered with the prayer leaders in Birmingham. And I felt the murmurings of the dream on Sunday as I attended our own Boiler Room church meeting.

This week I have been holed away in meetings with the guys from the Wandsworth, Liverpool and (soon to be) Shetlands Boiler Rooms. We talked again about next year, about new plans and new initiatives that are underfoot, and about existing people and places where God seems to be breathing new life and passion into their midst. Yesterday we gathered with Phil and Andy, who work with 24-7Prayer. I again felt the same stirring feeling, the sense that we were all like small children drawing in the sand, but from an aerial view the things we were drawing connected together and made perfect sense.

Yesterday afternoon I sat on my friend’s sofa in Wandsworth and found myself discussing the same things – the intensity of the last few weeks, the seeming acceleration in what God is up to in Wandsworth, the challenge and thrill of the days ahead.

Back in 2001, Debra Green had a prophecy for the SA, she said:

“You have been asking the Lord, ‘how long’, ‘how long before we see the barren land drenched?’ The Lord says, ‘Give me a year, a year to pray’…The more prayers the more rain! The land around you is getting soaked, its becoming fertile and ready for growth, hard ground is being softened. This is the beginning of something new. Things will never be the same again

Back then, there was a song we used to sing often:

 How Long

We have sung our songs of victory
We have prayed to you for rain
We have cried your compassion
To renew the land again
Now we’re standing in your presence
More hungry than before
Now we’re on your steps of mercy and we’re knocking at your door

How long
Before you drench the barren land
how long
Before we see Your righteous hand
How long
Before your name is lifted high
How long
Before the weeping turns to songs of joy

Lord, we know your heart is broken
By the evil that you see
And you’ve stayed your hand of judgment
For your plan to set men free
But the land is still in darkness
And we’ve fled from what is right
And we’ve failed the silent children
Who will never see the light

But I know a day is coming
When the deaf will hear his voice
When the blind will see the saviour
And the lame will leap for joy
When a widow finds a husband
Who will always love his bride
And the orphan finds a father
Who will never leave her side

How long
Before your glory lights the skies
How long
Before your radiance lifts our eyes
How long
Before your fragrance fills the air
How long
Before the earth resounds with songs of joy

Reading through those lyrics, and hearing stories like I’ve heard over the past few weeks, fills me with hope and expectancy. I love it that we’re a few years down the line now, we’re seeing the effects of some of that softening, that more and more people are talking about the ‘revolution’ God calls us to.

And in the same breath I love it that, though we may not be at the beginning, we’re not at the end yet either, there is still much more to do, much deeper to go, much more that God wants to show us. And I can’t wait to see what that means!!

Birmingham & Bromley November 22, 2007

Please excuse the blogging flurry… the last few days have zipped past faster than I could comprehend. It’s so strange that another week is almost past, another year is waning, another Christmas beckons.

Anyway, as I said in my last post, last Saturday involved a fair bit of trekking round the nation. I wanted to blog about it, because it was another of those important times of connection, of inspiration, of realising that we are not on our own with the passions God has given us.

After an (unhelpfully) early morning, we arrived at the World Prayer Centre in Birmingham. About ten of us had gathered, from far-flung climes such as Halifax, Harrow and Banbury and…Birmingham among others.

The group was made up of some of the original group that gathered for ‘prayer school’ back in 2004, (with some lovely additions that have joined in along the way). Back then, we met in Birmingham, in that same room, one Saturday a month for nearly a year. I still remember the first day, everybody sat wondering why they had been summoned to such an event, everyone nervous that everyone else was much better/much more worthy of being there etc. I remember how our relationships deepened over the months, how we were still all unsure, but how we became increasingly aware that we were part of something bigger than ourselves.

It’s amazing to see what God has done with that original group of people. Some have moved location, some are serving God abroad at the moment, some are working or filling roles they could never have imagined back then. Every time we gather now, there is a sense of awe, a sense of thankfulness, and a sense of anticipation for the future.

We started the day with some creative prayer – praying scriptures, laying down our worries, praying in pairs etc. Then we went round the room telling stories about what God’s been up to in each of our settings. We heard some amazing stories – churches slowly being changed by prayer, young people catching the vision, campuses and colleges opening up to 24-7 and prayer in general.

We also prayed for each other. Some of the group are on their own in really tough places, it was great to hear God for each other and be encouraged by the prayers of the group.

In the afternoon we chatted and prayed about ‘The Gathering’, which is a big prayer conference/event we are holding in January. There was a tangible sense of excitement as we planned together. We also talked around some other prayer requests and other exciting things that are happening next year.

I am always so encouraged by the lives and testimonies of the ‘prayer-schoolers & extras’, I love spending time with them and hearing stories. I am excited about where this journey of prayer in the Salvation Army is going, and how our motley crew is going to be part of that. Thrilling stuff!

One amusing feature of the day was the musical accompaniment. Due to the close proximity of Christmas, a German market had set up outside the prayer centre, and was merrily pumping loud Christmas music into the atmosphere. Praying to the sound of Slade and The Pogues was definitely an interesting first!

After a dash to the station (which was thoroughly too last-minute for my liking!) we headed back Londonwards. The temperature was dropping and everyone looked pinched and hurried (it later snowed there). We boiled on a stuffy train, but thankfully there were no delays, and we actually arrived a few minutes early!

I headed straight to Bromley, and found the corps, where I attended ‘Encounter’, which was like an interactive bible/worship/discussion experience, in their newly refurbished coffee shop. It was a great atmosphere and was lovely to spend time at the end of the day focussing on the Fatherhood of God, what this means and our response to that. I really enjoyed the chance to be somewhere pretty anonymous, and to be able to simply relax in and connect with God.

Next month is Christmas focussed, and will be on Sat December 15th, if you’re in the vicinity and aged 20-40, I’d definitely recommend it!

The Best & Worst November 18, 2007

There is a quote from ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ by Charles Dickens that sums up life Wandsworthwards today. It simply says, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”

There is so much about these times which is good. So many things I could write about:

Work this week was brilliant – prayerwalking in Walthamstow, exciting meetings planning prayer ideas for 2008, a lot of things seeming to take off and start to really happen.

Yesterday I spent an inspiring day in Birmingham with a group of prayer leaders from around the UK. Then I zoomed back to Bromley for ‘Encounter’. I’ll probably post seperatly about yesterday.

This morning we led church at Balham Sally Army. We used the Psalms to help us. It went really well and we enjoyed the challenge!

Next Sunday is the Boiler Room’s 3rd birthday, so this week involves lots of last minute planning and organising, as we prepare to thank God for three years trying to work out what it means to be a place of prayer, community, mission, social justice, creativity and pilgrimage in Wandsworth. It will be a time to look back, to celebrate the journey so far, and to ‘vision-cast’ for the future.

I know that it is often in the times when some things seem to be steaming ahead and really growing, that other things seem to stutter, fall apart or erupt. There has been a fair bit of that this weekend!

People suddenly becoming ill. Situations of trouble and conflict. Losses that you feel right in the pit of your stomach.

I am comforted by the words of Psalm 84:5-8

“Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
       who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.

As they pass through the Valley of Baca,
       they make it a place of springs;
       the autumn rains also cover it with pools.

  They go from strength to strength,
       till each appears before God in Zion.

 Hear my prayer, O LORD God Almighty;
       listen to me, O God of Jacob.
       Selah. “

I have set my heart on this pilgrimage. Through summer or storm, and in the moments when the icey winds seem to cut me to the bone, still I will stand. When my heart thrills at new birth I will remain, I will be steadfast when foundations crumble around me. My God has proved himself before, and in the valleys of weeping I will find him again.

In these days of utter joy and breathtaking sorrow I will trust in his provision.

I stand with my Father, and he goes before and behind me. I am secure.

So Proud November 14, 2007

 Back in the heady days of 2003, I moved up to Oldham to live on a wonderful estate called Fitton Hill. I loved it there – flanked by old mills and boarded up houses, with a pervading smell of cakes (from the bakery down the road where everyone worked), knee deep snow and street-wide water fights, a man living up the road who kept a pet crocodile in his bath, It was amazing.

I was captivated by more than just the physcial surroundings. The residents of Fitton Hill are an astounding bunch. Gritty yet friendly, they displayed a high level of welcome to us when we moved in.

I’ll never forget the 2 young people who were unable to find a ‘welcome to your new home’ card, (not much need for them on an estate where everyone else wants to move out!) They bought all they could find… altering ‘In Deepest Sympathy’, to ‘In Deepest Welcome’. We treasured that card!

Over the past 4 years, It’s been a privilege to watch the team growing and the young people gradually finding their feet and their faith. I’ve trekked up there to watch some of them getting baptised, I’ve chatted into the night with different team members. I have been repeatedly and consistently amazed by what God has been doing there, and the vision that Chris and Laura, the team leaders have for the place.

 This week, a group of young people from the estate came down to London. They had recently won the Nationwide regional award for voluntary endeavour, and were therefore competing in the national finals. I am happy to say they won!!!! This means resources for the team and a big congratulations to them all.

I’m so proud that the tireless work they put in has been recognised and celebrated.

I was excited too, when the group took a detour past my desk yesterday, taking time to swing on my chair and festoon my desk with post-it note graffiti. I still feel very connected to the team and the young people there, so it was fab to share with them and celebrate their success.

I am praying that God continues to bless, grow and use these young people to change the very fabric of Fitton Hill. They’re great!

NEO Retreat November 11, 2007

Hmm, I’m not really sure how to summarise this week! So, we’ll start with location: I was in Liverpool from Wednesday evening to Friday morning… and then purpose: I was there for a 24 retreat with the leaders of SA church plants (NEOs)  from accross the country.

 This is, however, by no means a good summary. I wish I could have somehow blogged directly from my thoughts, as so much went on over those 24 hours. I felt inspired and yet unsettled, blessed and yet dissatisfied, shocked and yet thrilled, uncertain and yet expectant.

We chatted about the partnership between prayer and mission. We chatted about new ways to focus on both. We shared our stories and our hopes and fears. We talked about some big ideas to make a difference. In those 24 hours I felt excited about what it means to be part of the Kingdom of God, and like we, with some small decisions and changes in our behaviour, could make a difference.

 We had late night discussions… with topics that ranged from the intense -for example the rarity of miracles, to the inane – for example the things we collected as children.

 There were a number of times over the 24 hours when I felt myself choking up. For so long I have been desperate to see God reawakening a passion in us, to be who we were raised up to be. In the last couple of years I have seen glimpses of that stirring. In Liverpool I felt like I was immersed in it. There was an atmosphere of ‘anything is possible here… let’s dream big and see what God can do.’   

I had some individual conversations that were great too… we chatted about how to raise the profile of prayer, how to equip teams to pray, and lots of other stuff. We discussed and prayed about the dreams that get each one of us up in the morning, and conversely the things that tempt us to stay hiding under the duvet. We prayed for each other too, and this was done from a place of honesty and vulnerability. It was a precious time.

I sometimes struggle with conferences. Sometimes it feels like theory and theory and theory, and I find my mind wandering… I want to be out of there and trying things out, it feels like my mind is going to explode with all the ‘good ideas’. Liverpool was different though, because we weren’t just banding around nice theories, you could hear and sense the passion in the things people shared, and I am so excited to see how those things play out.

On Friday evening, at our leaders cell here in Wandsworth, we had to identify and describe to the group a time when we felt motivated by something. The rest of the group had to then identify what were the primary motivators for each of us. Mine came out as being given the space to think creatively and differently, being released to think outside the box, being given a blank canvas. I think, for me, Liverpool proved that to be true.

I’ve been thinking lots since getting home. I do end up visiting lots of places, and about a year ago I decided that instead of simply filling pages and pages with notes and then just shelving them, that I would endeavour to put things I learn from these places into practice. That I would seek not simply to enjoy all the trekking around, but to use each trip as a learning experience, and to see it as a gift God has given me, a gift that needs to be unwrapped and used.

Being in a context like the NEO retreat is unsettling for me, because I miss living in a church plant context. I miss the blank canvas that this provides. There is the temptation to struggle being back home and being back in my normal routine. I have been amazed since coming back though, because the gift of the retreat, for me, has been identifying a number of practical ways to put some of my dreams into practice here and now. Watch this space!

Through the Crowds November 6, 2007

I had an awesome picture while praying tonight. It was quite a busy, noisy prayer meeting, and I was finding it hard to connect with God and concentrate on interceding for Wandsworth. After I had sat there feeling frustrated for a while, I asked God to speak to me through the volume and distraction.

In my picture, I was standing in a market place (Specifically, it was the market square in Northampton… I don’t think that is prophetically relevent, I guess it’s just that’s the market I am most familiar with!) Anyway, the stalls were brightly coloured, all peddling an assortment of wares. Market traders were shouting and advertising their products, customers were milling around, pointing and dawdling.

I felt quite overwhelmed by the senses that surrounded me. I could smell typical market smells – fruit, cooking donuts, fuel in generators. I could hear and see so many sounds and colours. It was busy, hectic and crowded.

In the picture, someone took hold of my wrist and begin to gently lead me through the crowd. I am not claustrophobic at all, but I do like space, so I was pleased when I was lead out of the busy melee of people and stalls. I knew it was God who was leading me, and so I felt perfectly safe.

He led me to this big rock thing. Like a Tor you’d get on Dartmoor (not many of those in Northampton so no locational familiarity here). Still leading me, we went between two tall stacks of rock, a pathway that could only have been a few feet wide. When it felt like we had walked right into the centre of the rock formation, we stopped. It was like a niche, a small round area with space only for the two of us. I stood there and God stood there. Neither of us moved and neither of us spoke. I was struck by the way my senses were stilled. It was utterly silent, utterly peaceful. So different from the frenetic energy of the market.

It reminded me that in the most hectic moments of my life, I need to allow God to lead me to that place of serenity and stillness. When I feel the most jarred and jolted by the pace of events, He is faithful, and he knows I need that tranquility. In the moments when I long for a quiet space, He is waiting to lead me into it…

I will endeavour to remember this.

Yard of Hell November 6, 2007

I’ve been mulling over a quote by CT Studd recently, whilst writing some prayer resources, and I can’t get it out of my mind:

“Some want to live within the sound of church or chapel bell; I want to run a rescue shop within a yard of hell.”

One of the features I find hardest about Wandsworth, is the affluence that is so apparent in the borough. When we were out collecting this year, for the SA’s annual appeal, I felt a bit like little orphan Annie, wandering up these sweeping driveways and gingerly pressing intrecom buttons. The houses were lovely, more than just big, they were gargantuan. I felt this odd internal conflict as I looked past the (often somewhat frustrated) door-openers and into their hallways. I saw beautiful creme carpets, winding waxed wood stairs, marble fireplaces. One man came and answered the door, fresh from playing squash with his son in their purpose-built games room!  

Now, I know I’m generalising, but I’m pretty sure that these neighbourhoods are not the ‘yard of hell’ God is calling me to.

I’m sure in the future this sense of calling I feel to the worst areas – the most run-down or dilapidated parts of town will work out in a physical place.

For now, I’m becoming increasingly aware that the ‘hell’ some people live in is not just a physical place. There is the hell of loneliness or grief or betrayal. Abuse, addiction and rejection. These things I do encounter often, sometimes in the people who come to the Salvation Army seeking help, sometimes in the newspapers, sometimes in the lives and stories of my friends.

Sometimes I find myself longing for the simplicity of the ‘nicer parts of town’, in many different relationships. Sometimes it is hard, sitting down for a cup of tea and hearing about the landscape of each particular hell. Sometimes I want to fix everything, or never hear another story again.

Every so often, in fact with increasing regularity, I am humbled and awed by the way God moves in these situations. He seems perfectly comfortable with living life within a yard of hell. His speciality is rescue. Every time I am tempted to seek an easier route I try and remember this.

Easy Sunday November 5, 2007

So I’m recording another chapter in the ‘Great Church Trek’ that is my Sundays at the moment. (Maybe I will gain a reputation like the ship of fools ‘mystery worshipper’?!)

Yesterday we started off at an Anglican Church in Putney. It was a newish building, which didn’t look like a church. I thought this made it welcoming and less threatening to newcomers. We entered to the smell of sausages cooking and fresh bread – yum! Every first sunday of the month, the church run something called ‘Easy Sunday’, where everyone sits around tables, eats breakfast together and chills out with a paper. After this there are a couple of songs, a prayer activity and a short talk.

The atmosphere was good and we felt very welcome. It was good to catch up with a few people we knew and also to meet others. It’s also great to see how other people do church and to be inspired from their creativity.

In the afternoon, we had the first of our church gatherings in the new building we’ll (hopefully) be using till ours is built. It is very different from the building we had been using, and that changed the atmosphere a lot I think. It felt friendly, like a real sense of community, it was great. Plus, there were 8 ‘twenty-somethings’ there. I took this as a real answer to prayer. When I rocked up and Wandsworth 3 years ago, I was the only one in this age bracket, and I really felt that! I was so greatful that God has brought along others and increased our church family in this way.

The theme of church yesterday was from John 15, about abiding and remaining in God’s love etc. It was one of those odd cohesive moments, because this was the same passage we studied in Seville. I’m sure God has lots of say to us as a Boiler Room through it.