Loving
At our Boiler Room community get together tonight, we thought about how we’re called to love God, love each other and love the ‘other’. It made me think muchly, and though its late now, and I should be sleeping / preparing for work / packing / writing emails to prayer team members, I’m sat here musing.
We chatted a bit about how we, as community, could show that we loved each other. Its more than just saying hello and making the occasional cup of tea, its really knowing and journeying and ‘doing life’ with each other. But how do you do that with a disparate group of people? And maybe disparate is the wrong word, we’re all connected by a similar heart and passion for the community and the city, we’re all in a similar geographical location, we love eating and sharing together (tonight Sam made the yummiest curries ever)… we know a bit about each other, thanks to some imaginative ice breakers, but there’s got to be more than that.
I think some of it is about story. I was sitting there tonight thinking about all of us and wondering about all the collective experiences and journeys and paths that had brought us to that point. I thought about all the conversations and dreamings over coffees and hopes and visions that had gone into the mix, and I thought about the struggles and hard times that added to the picture too. I thought about what is to come, too. What will I say of, know of, think of these fellow-sojourners after a few years of travelling together? Where will our collective and individual dreams take us? And how will that impact the city as a whole? I came away thinking that I want to get to know these people more. I want to understand what makes them tick, how best they receive love, and where they struggle to do that. And I want to be honest too. I want to know and be known. I don’t want this to be another social club, or just a bunch of good ideas, a project that affirms us and makes us feel warm and glowy, I really want us to go deep and love where it really matters.
We talked about the Holy Spirit coming to communicate adoption, to put the orphans into families, to speak of sonship, of family and belonging. That inspires me and brings me much hope.
Boiler Room Times…
It’s been an awesome week, on Sunday we put some finishing touches to the Boiler Room (Although finishing probably isn’t the right word, as there’s still heaps to do) and then on Monday evening we had our first gathering there. Nine of us gathered to chat, pray, listen to God and dedicate the place to him. Here are some snaps:
Moving In…
We had an awesome day. People showed up with some amazing and some wonderful (and some bizarre) things. We learned how to use the heating and the alarm system. We checked out the amazing cellar and we drank tea and ate cake. We bought more things in Wilkinsons than I ever knew possible. We stuck fairy lights to beams, and we prayed together in the different rooms.
This photo shows the amazing beams in the downstairs room (and some of our lovely BR community), who are praying (not sleeping):
(and Sam had lovely socks on)
Today was exciting even in the mundane things like buying sugar and de-woodlousing the place. There was a real sense that God is going to do exciting things through that little, unassuming place, and us, an inauspicious bunch. And I can’t wait to see what that looks like.
I was sitting there staring at the blank walls and the piles of unsorted-through stuff and wondering what the place will look like in a week, in a month, in six months. I wondered what stories we will have of the place.
And, it probably sounds mushy to say, but it made me realise how important to me this bunch of people are. I loved breathing in semi-toxic dust with them. I loved getting covered in archaic hoover matter as we tried to fix it. I loved working out how to put uplighters together and how to arrange highlighter pens in drawers. I loved working out what surfaces should be ‘cif-fed’, and which should be ‘all purpose cleanser-ed’… I could go on and on, but most of all I loved the moments when we were all sat around drinking tea and there’d be a moment of ‘gosh this is really happening’. We’re really in this space. This really is a dream coming true, and there’s nowhere else I’d prefer to be right now.
On the Threshold
Tomorrow morning we will rise bright and early, wend our collective ways into town and begin the task of moving into and setting up the new Canterbury Boiler Room base. We will purchase paint and paper, drink tea, and wrestle furniture up spiral staircases. We will laugh and dream and probably bemuse the friendly estate agents downstairs. We will clean and affix and begin to make our mark on the place, and all this makes me think lots.
This is the second time round for me, this journey of community, this snatching dreaming sessions over coffee, this seeing the potential and gathering supplies and launching… something. I love this bit of the journey: the unknown blossoming, like a mystery pack of seeds pushed haphazardly into the soil by excited children – slowly turning into smiling sunflowers. And all week I’ve been trying to keep the two things separate in my head… to keep these two journeys, two localities, two vastly different contexts apart. Both are precious, and there are miracles we smile at; but both stories include episodes of uncertainty, vulnerability, fragility; both hold loss.
I remember, back in the day, always waiting for the moment when someone would explain to me what a Boiler Room was. I was looking for the neat sentence – it would certainly make explaining the crazy venture easier. Later, we held seminars on exactly that, and smiled to ourselves as we tried to explain that there was actually no neat sentence. We spoke pictorially – Boiler Rooms are like 21st century monasteries, like furnaces heating an engine, like stories being written. Boiler Room is metaphor, simile; its values metonym.
I was determined to keep the two apart, until today, when I was meandering around a supermarket, and I came across some bags of Kindling wood. This, to me, was not random. When we launched the Boiler Room in Wandsworth, back in 2004, we had the idea of giving everyone a little bit of kindling, which they then had the opportunity to come and place at the front as a symbol of commitment. I stood there today, staring at the kindling, thinking that I’d had little idea of what I was letting myself in for, when I joined everyone else in placing that anonymous piece of wood on the pile.
Wandsworth Boiler Room, for me, was a place of transformation, of vibrant colour and love piercing through some dark stuff. It was a place of acceptance, a place where I could spread my wings and find out who I was (am). I’m having a ‘missing my Wandsworth family’ moment this week, which is I think caused by not having visited for six weeks. Tomorrow is coffee shop and a good friend’s party and there is an ache in me for that place which has and does mean so much. Its so true that when you go through something deep in a place it stays with you, and that is certainly true of me and that little Salvation Army hall which we saw razed to the ground and built up, and its motley crew of lovely, loving people.
And here I am, just over five years later from that exciting November. I’m not jaded, and I haven’t got Boiler Room out of my system. I didn’t come here with the intention of helping to set one up, I wasn’t trying to replace the losses that still feel so tender when I ponder over Wandsworth, but again the excitement bubbles up in me, again I am excited to think about a place of prayer and community and creativity and mission and learning and a whole bunch of other stuff. I am excited to see how we, a random bunch of people from different places and with different lives will be built together in community. There is something special about Boiler Rooms, and I love it that we’re part of one again. I’m blinking in amazement that this has all happened so quickly, and I’m wondering what God has up his sleeves.
And Canterbury…. how I am excited to see what this prayer space, this praying community grows into, as we get past our awkwardness and we settle into a new place and we keep walking forwards together. I already love this city and believe that it has a destiny to fulfil. And I love it that we have just a tiny little space in a tiny corner of it. I love it that aforementioned friendly estate agent called it a ‘spiritual hub’ for the city.
Comparison is deadly, and I know that this walk is and will be different from the last, but I am thankful for both, and I am excited by what is to come for us all.
Boiler Room Times
Since arriving here a few months back, I’ve been watching excitably as things accelerated with the development of a Boiler Room – prayer space in the city. This week, we signed the license to take up a property from this Saturday!! Hurrah!
At the moment we’re gathering supplies – tea towels, mugs, art materials etc, and hopefully much of it will descend upon our little comfy space on Saturday. The property is above an estate agents, and is a lovely old place. I wish I knew what it had been before.
More news and hopefully pictures soon.
Citizenship
I’ve been thinking a bit over the last couple of days about this. Apparently kids get taught it in schools these days. We never did, (which explains why, when the Queen expounded the glories of the Commonwealth on Christmas day, I had little idea what she was talking about).
Anyway, so being born a UK Citizen is a great and wondrous thing, you get, a whole bunch of rights that are marvellous and beneficial. These include stuff like legal, civil and human rights, protection, free speech and other gems. You also have responsibilities… stuff like respecting diversity and engaging in community and contributing to the economy. It strikes me that a lot of that stuff is inherent knowledge, I haven’t found myself walking to uni musing about Britain’s reliance on other nations, and lot of those rights are things we take for granted until they get removed or impinged upon.
On Saturday, a friend and I went to see the film Avatar, directed by James Cameron, which is probably one of the best films I’ve ever seen. I won’t spoil the plot or anything, but belonging is a strong theme throughout. The film raises a question about kin – when do you become part of a people rather than just someone who is temporarily passing through? What does it really mean to be loyal and true? And when does that belonging become incontrovertible or irreversible?
I love it that there is a process in our society that allows someone to pledge their allegiance and commitment to their community, and to receive the rights and benefits of that people. I love it that a feature of citizenship ceremonies is speeches of welcome from local dignitaries and gifts that reflect a local flavour. I know it often doesn’t work like this in practice (more’s the pity), but I love the sense of adoption and protection – the biblical thing about orphans and widows being taken in and looked after and cared for. I love it that we can gain from the wisdom and vibrancy that other cultures bring to our society.
It makes me think about church, and boiler room, and what it means to be adopted, to be citizens of God’s household. Its cool to think that we get a bundle of rights, and that he gives us some responsibilities too as part of that. I love the idea that, in community, we’re not just ‘doing’ stuff… putting on meetings or doing the odd mission trip or running a soup kitchen, we have the opportunity to belong, to be kin. It’s much deeper than just charitable activities. Or I guess thats how I think it should be.
And I don’t even just think its some weird churchy thing. I think I belong to this city – this place that I love, where I drink coffee and buy toothpaste and smile at bus drivers. I am a citizen here, I have rights and responsibilities and my being here adds something beautiful to the mix. And I benefit from the beautiful things those around me bring, too. I belong to my uni friends too, I love them, and the colour they bring to my life (and my facebook wall).
As part of the citizenship ceremony, you get to swear allegiance to God, pledge yourself to the community and celebrate the significance of being part of something bigger than yourself. I am committed to the former, excited about the middle, and increasingly discovering the life and colour of the third. Exciting times.
2009: Summing Up
Hmmm, so the post I’ve spent most of the week trying to avoid writing, mentally beginning, scribbling out, tossing the metaphorical paper into a handy waste-paper basket and giving up.
But the past year is worth reflecting on. For all it’s ups and downs it’s been the end of a decade, the rounding up of ten years of change and growth. I am not ending it where I expected to, ten years or even ten months ago, but even after all, I feel this is a positive ledge to be perched on, swinging my feet over the edge and thinking back to the climb that brought me to this place.
Ten years ago, I sat up at midnight-ish and wrote a prayer. My life was about to change in ways I couldn’t have perceived and I wouldn’t have desired. But there was a 16 year old me who wanted to make my life count for something, and I knew that God had something to do with that. And then, at the same time, I was so sure he was mad with me… I was so worried that he would give up and walk away. I wish I could go back and reassure that younger me that everything was gonna be ok, that he had good plans, that there was going to be a life of such freedom and so many blessings ahead. I wish I could reassure her that he wasn’t angry at all… hmmm.
The past twelve months have had some real highlights. Work-wise I think of the Setting the Captives Free conference we held in Durham, and the Fullness Retreat. And who could forget my summer travels, over 200o miles as part of the ALOVE UK Road Trip. Those are some precious memories, times and events when I really felt connected in to something bigger than myself, times when I had the blessing of catching a glimpse of what God is up to. I loved those events, the people I met there, and the journeys. The season has changed now and I’m much more based in one place, but I remain so so thankful for five years when I did get to travel extensively, to see new things and meet new people.
And then there’s uni… I guess I’ll always be able to look back on ’09 as the year when I finally stopped procrastinating and actually took the plunge. I was worried that I’d do three weeks and realise that I hated it, that I’d made a huge mistake etc… but that really hasn’t happened. I love uni, I love the intellectual stimulation. I’d forgotten quite how much I love learning. I love lying in till ten and living on caffiene and working out the intricacies of the wonderful new ‘Learning Centre’… it really is all good. I even love essay writing, and got a ‘first’ for my first essay, which I’m really proud about.
I loved my five years based at Wandsworth… and it’s proudly my answer when people at uni ask where I’ve come from, but its been fab to find my way around a new place, a new home. I love the church I’m part of here, and am exciting to keep exploring with a new community. I remember saying to someone in my first week here, ‘I’d love a church community that just meet in the pub, that just hang out and do life together’… I can really see how God has answered that prayer, even though it looked impossible when I said it.
Those are all (or at least some) of the glorious moments… there were also birthdays, christmases, cake-baking sessions and cliff-climbing adventures. There were walks along the Thames and trips to the cinema and first gigs. There were unwrapping mac-book moments and fitting too much stuff in a car excitements. There were some real highlights this year. It has been a year of hope and discovery and connection, and I’m so thankful for that.
I can’t help feeling sad though, when I think about this year. Even when I think about those triumphs of work and relationship and community, I know I’ll always remember 2009 also as a year of significant and painful loss. The pain won’t always be quite as raw, I know, but it has shaped this year, since the difficult days of June, when Jo got ill. Grief is a bizarre thing, and there are still moments when I think to myself that all this is just some bad and elongated dream. I’ve missed Jo this Christmas, she was always so so fun at Christmas. And I’ve missed her wisdom and encouragement as I’ve started this new chapter of life. I’ve missed our appreciation of Eddie Stobart and Wendsleydale sandwiches, and I’ve missed the inspiration of her irrepressible hope in what God can do, and her vision and passion for change. I have no neat, nice Christian answers for why she died… it still seems so so unfair. so 2009 has also been a year of clinging on to God when nothing seems to make sense, when there are no easy answers. Jo was a Herald of Hope, and it has been a year of finding out that nothing, not even death and pain, can destroy or steal that hope. My life is blessed and enriched and so much the better for knowing her.
Post Surgery
Thanks everyone for the faith filled prayers for Jo’s healing. Many people prayed and fasted yesterday, we’re grateful to you all.
The news post-op is that Jo has come out of the surgery well. She was chatting and moving all her limbs yesterday which is great and an answer to those prayers for safety etc.
She has a headache but is bright and hopeful.
The surgeons could not actually clip the aneurysm, as it was too close to certain other blood vessels and they would have risked inducing a stroke.
As plan B, they covered it in a mesh which should promote scar tissue to act as the cap.
We need to pray that this bonds it well and that natural healing processes take their course.
Please continue to pray for Jo – that the mesh bonds well, that there are no further complications and that she continues to improve.
Please also pray for strength for the whole Norton family at this time. Ruth has important exams next week, so please pray for her in those, especially.
Thanks for all your support, love and prayers. God is faithful.
Update on Jo Norton
Just a short post to thank everyone for your continued and faithful prayer support. We have been overwhelmed, encouraged and amazed as we have seen God answering our prayers, and those of people from across the UK and the world.
The latest news has been really positive. Jo was bright and chatty Friday and Saturday, even cracking some jokes, and yesterday she managed two meals. It’s also been a blessing to hear her testifying that God is bigger than this situation, and to see how her strong faith is carrying her through. I saw Jo briefly on Friday evening, and she looked remarkably well considering.
The doctors say that 50% of people who experience the same thing die instantly, and only 20% of the remainder reach the point she has, so it’s incredible how well she is.
The next time when prayer cover is especially needed is tomorrow morning, when Jo will have an operation to clamp the bleed. Please pray:
- That the anaesthetisation etc will go well and that Jo will feel peaceful about it.
- That the surgery will go as planned, that there will be no complications, and that they will be able to clamp the bleed.
- For strength and swift healing for Jo in the days following the op, she will likely be in intensive care for a couple of weeks following the surgery.
- For the whole Norton family – for peace, strength, and a real awareness of the comfort of the Holy Spirit.
We gathered as a church community this morning for worship as usual, and again noted the value and strength of community, of holding each other up, of praying in unity together. We thought about the ways God uses suffering for good, and considered how to have faith during the hard times, a pertinent message for us all. At the end of the service we sang the song ‘In Christ Alone’. I don’t think I’ve ever sang, or heard that song sung with such gusto. In Him our hope is found. In Him we find strength for tomorrow. In Him we believe for full healing for Jo.
Holding onto Hope
Late on Tuesday night I received news that my church leader had been rushed to hospital with an aneurysm (a bleed in her brain). I don’t think I can articulate how stunned we all were, and the feelings of unreality and denial that accompanied each text that came to update us with the news.
On one hand, when something like that happens, you go into coping mode: get people to pray, check everyone has heard, hug those who are sad and bewildered, maintain the ‘information switchboard’, encourage the community to believe for miracles, just keep going.
And at the same time, you’re expecting at any moment to get a message saying it has all been a horrid misunderstanding, that she’d woken up fine, with a bit of a headache, a bit worse for the wear but, fine, and cheery and, herself.
It felt like a daze. It felt like normal life stopped. It felt like things changed in an instant. I’d been with Jo just an hour and a half earlier and it had been incredible. We were both encouraged by the things that God is doing at present, she was buzzing with ideas fresh from an inspiring conference and a refreshing prayer meeting. She was exuberant, hopeful, energetic. How did things change so quickly? I found myself running through every stage of the evening in minute detail: the discussion we had about suncream, our complaining about mouldy blueberries, eating tea together, hugging on the corner of the road to say goodbye. It had all been so so normal, so everyday, and now things were very different, and very wrong, and very un-everyday.
And in some senses we’re still working through that as a community. We’re still praying and believing and daring to hope and trusting in our Abba Father and beseeching him for miracles and holding each other up through difficult and dark days.
But I wanted to share a couple of things that have struck me over the last couple of days, things I have held on to. And it’s not the time for deep wrangling theology, but there is still a ‘God is good, God is in this’, on my heart.
Working was pretty tough on Wednesday, and many times I found myself picking up my battered copy of ‘God on Mute’ – Pete Grieg’s starkly personal and honest exploration of unanswered prayer – from my bookshelf. He writes about the time his wife had a severe and life threatening brain tumour, and the wrangle and heartbreak and hope, and the place of prayer in all of that.
I picked it up because I found that I didn’t know what to pray. All I could pray was random incoherent sentences, like “Please heal her”, and “Oh God”… over and over again. And to begin with I felt bad – my job is prayer, I train people on it, but when it counted I was praying like a five year old. And I was comforted, opening the book, to read the same sentiments expressed there – the same bewilderment. And that made me realise that that sort of prayer is ok – is just as effective as a long well phrased liturgy. It reminded me that God knows my heart, so when I couldn’t even utter a word, my sense of pain and grief was a plaintive and amplified prayer that he heard directly.
I was blessed by this quote:
“Our hope in the face of suffering is not to reject God, but rather to rely on him even more, choosing to call him Father with a mix of desperation and hope, militantly believing that although our prayers remain unanswered, it is not because God is callous or uncaring, because he is love.”
I think I’ve had to hang onto him tighter this week than I can remember. We’ve really experienced that mix of desperation and hope. And all we can do is keep relying, keep hoping, keep believing in his goodness.
The other thing I have noticed this week is the value of community. The Boiler Room and the wider Church have pulled together in a way I’ve never known it to before, the prayer chain multiplied and spread quickly, people in Iceland, Latvia, and the US heard the news and texted messages of support. God began to do surprising things – athiests prayed for Jo’s healing, people showed up at an inpromptu prayer meeting, others invited others for tea and support. It’s been incredible.
As I write, we hear that Jo is the brightest she has been- making jokes and smiling and testifying to God’s goodness. And he is good. We are praising him, we are believing for more, and we are holding on to hope.
Collagery!
One of the beautiful things about having a new church building is that there are lots of walls to fill. Blank, magnolia walls just crying out to be adorned. Metres of void space needing a little something to make the whole place a bit more communicative.
So what else to do but fill them!
I put together this collage recently, using some wonderful photos from www.zoriah.net:
I’m not sure it shows up on the photo, but we came back from an away day last week to find that someone had scribbled on the edge of one of the photos ‘thanks for what you do, it doesn’t go unnoticed. This place is a lifesaver.’
I don’t think it’s the place that’s saving lives.
I don’t think it’s us.
But I know that God is here, and I’m excited that others can feel that too.
Boiler Room Open Week
The Open Week started brightly on Monday 16th, with a flurry of people helping to set up prayer stations around the Boiler Room. We were joined at lunchtime by four girls from 24-7 Prayer’s ‘Transit’ course, who, after cups of tea and introductions, enthusiastically got stuck in and decorated our prayer room (it looked amazing!).
The Monday evening was phenomenal. We met for a prayer concert, and were joined by a band from Rayne’s Park who led worship sensitively and powerfully. We took part in some creative prayer exercises, and then Lyndall Bywater spoke. The Holy Spirit was really evident and many people were touched.
Tuesdays’ theme was creativity, and we set up lots of different expressions of this around the Boiler Room. Centre of the activity was the main hall, where we were joined by 17 Danish students, who painted, drew, sculpted and learnt about our Boiler Room journey. It was great to meet them, and have them join us as we walked across the Council Chambers, in the heart of Wandsworth Town Hall, to pray with members of the Council Christian Fellowship. It was thrilling and significant to pray in the place where decisions are made that affect the whole borough.
Wednesday was a quieter day, we held our usual XYZ lunch and club (Pensioners church), and the Transit girls helped with the running of the day.
Thursday evening was another high point in the week, where most of our congregation, plus a whole bunch of others, joined us for our first ‘community meal’. Everyone brought something to share, so we ended up with an eclectic yet yummy mix, and there was more than enough for everyone. It was great to eat together, to spend time chatting and getting to know each other better, to just be family with the people we see in church every week, and welcoming others who perhaps we don’t see as regularly. The youth group played board games, everyone else drank a lot of tea, and fun was had by all. We’re definitely going to do this again, there was an openness and vibrancy about the place, and it was a great way to build community.
On Friday, the Social Action team led our Friday food parcels ministry. In the old building we used to just give these out at the door, but we wanted to make the afternoon more welcoming and inclusive. This way, people aren’t just getting a bag of food at the door, but have the opportunity to come in, to spend some time in the warm, to have a shower and a cup of tea, as well as spending time chatting and building relationships. This is a relatively new venture, but, on this day, 34 people came in.
Friday was rounded off with a half night of prayer, where we spent some time worshipping, praying for London and interceding about world situations.
Saturday was the brightest and warmest day of the year so far, an excellent time to embark on our first Boiler Room mini-pilgrimage. We had the pleasure of hosting some visitors from Springboard (24-7 Prayer’s leadership training track), and spent some time telling the Wandsworth story and sharing prayer requests for each other before setting off.
In times past, pilgrims may have used chariots, or walked miles on foot, but in 21st century Wandsworth, there was a certain novelty about using a bus to get us to Richmond Park, our location for the day.
Once there, we walked and walked, enjoying the sunshine and the space to share lives, share stories. We spent time chatting with the Springboarders about their future plans, and were excited to hear about all the far-flung places they will be heading to post-springboard.
We spotted some deer, and then walked a bit further until we found a grassy spot under some trees, where we shared lunch together. Again, it was lovely to chat, to take things at a slower place, and to enjoy each others’ company. Our Boiler Room literature talks about pilgrimage helping us to see things differently, to gain new perspectives, and Saturday’s journey definitely felt useful for this.
The open week, and our first week of 24-7 prayer in the new building wrapped up on the Sunday, with everyone commenting that the experience had been a positive one. People said that it made them really feel part of the Boiler Room, and that there was a buzz about the place that they hadn’t felt before. People walked into the prayer room and said they could feel the presence of God there.
When you’re just getting on with life in a Boiler Room, it’s sometimes easy to forget why we do what we do, and the privilege and excitement in what God has called us to be. It can just become very normal. The open week really helped refocus us, remind us of our calling, and reinvigorate our experience and understanding of the six elements of Boiler Room.
It shook us up a bit too. Relationships often noticeably deepen in the times when people are thrown together, undertaking tasks that break their routine and nudge them out of their comfort zones.
Sometimes the best and most honest conversations happen when we are tired and don’t have the energy to maintain a front. In a community, this sort of honesty and vulnerability helps us all move forward. Throughout the week, we worked through the challenges of fitting different programme events around our existing work, thinking about visitors and accommodation practicalities, and being flexible with our plans and expectations. I think we have come out the other end of the Open Week with a greater commitment to each other, and to what God is doing through Wandsworth Boiler Room.
It was great, through the week, to get stuck into focussed prayer for so many different people, events and situations. The prayer request sheets filled up fast, and it was great to know prayer was being raised up every hour of every day. There have already been some great answers to prayer: non- Christians coming to church for the first time, and new people signing up to be Street Pastors in the borough. Intriguingly, we heard at the weekend that the roof of the council chamber where we’d prayed later fell in… but we are claiming no responsibility for this. Hehe!
Moving forward, we’re definitely hoping to hold another Open Week, potentially in the Autumn. We’re also looking to integrate some of the one-off events of the week, like the community meal, into our main Boiler Room programme, because they were so enjoyable and beneficial. Like so many things, we can’t see all the effects of the week, some of them will be things that work out in the long term, others will be held and pondered in the hearts of those who were impacted, but all in all we are thankful to God for being with us, for helping everything to run smoothly, and for the journey that we know stretches ahead of us in the weeks and months to come.
Boiler Room Open Week pics
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- Setting up the prayer room
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- Praying for London
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- Danish visitors getting stuck in creatively
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- Creativity in progress
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- Praying in the council chamber
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- Example prayer
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- Inspiring conversations (and beetroot!)
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- Clay sculpture
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- Beautiful clay artwork
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- Essential boiler room survival gear
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- Hard work in the kitchen
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- Prayer Stations
Clay sculpture
We are in the middle of our Boiler Room Open Week at the moment. Lots to say about that, but for now a picture of this pretty scuplture will do 
Visby, Sweden
So, we were in Visby to lead a week of teaching about different aspects of prayer. On Tuesday we did the mechanics of prayer, on Wednesday – prayer and church, on Thursday – prayer and the community and on Friday – healing prayer.
The town of Visby is amazing, I’d recommend a visit to anyone. It is very old – some of the buildings are from the 12th century, and the section of the town we were in is walled. The town is on the West coast of the Island of Gotland, which has a rich and long history involving trading, pirates and treasure. The attached pictures hopefully show a bit what it was like.
Teaching was so much fun, and we met people from Sweden, Germany, Iceland and Denmark. It was a wondrous cacophany of languages! It was ablessing to worship and pray with the group too.
As is usual with these things, God was working and connecting and bringing about some brilliant conversations, we had ‘fika’ many times, which is like a small snack, over which we discussed boiler room, and what it means to build communities of prayer. I was thrilled to be reminded that these are springing up all over the place.
After school had finished each day, we walked all over the town and explored the windy streets, marvelling at the mix of buildings and the colours and styles. It was like we had gone back 200 years. The streets were cobbly and the whole place was just really unspoilt. It was very very quiet – so different from South West London. Even the pace of life is relaxed and laid back.
Visby’s a very creative place too. Apparently there are more artists per square mile than in any other place. We could well believe it. Something about the place just seemed to bring creativity out. We both commented that it was so easy to write there. I felt like I could have holed myself away on a hilltop and just written and written, it was that inspiring.
Food was yummy too, we had real, authentic swedish meatballs, as well as lots of nice cheese!! My personal favourites were the traditional raspberry pie, and sweetcorn soup (not together though!), we also found a lovely iron-shaped creperie, which is in one of the pictures above. The crepes were fabulous!!
I know there is more I could write, and I probably will, but for now it will suffice to say that we had an awesome time, and are excited about the connections we made out there. I feel privileged to have had the opportunity to meet the people on the Saved2Save course, and to have visited Visby.
Blogging Backlogs…
So, I seem to be suffering from a similar ailment to certain friends of mine, who neglect their blog for a couple of weeks and then have a million things to fit in one entry! I have only been neglecting for 9 days, but even still lots has been going on, and so in an attempt to be organised I am going for some categorisation
Work – Work has been very cool over the last couple of weeks. We wrote a resource to help people get to grips with praying for their communities. It basically has 28 questions you work through, which then gives you a workable foundation to build a prayer strategy on afterwards. So that was much fun. I enjoyed canvassing opinions to work out the best colour scheme for it, and spent days agonising between green and purple (all the while secretly adoring shocking pink). Purple won out in the end. I spent this week despatching said resources to lovely praying people, so that’s nearly all done. Have some other writing stuff to do but having got around to that yet.
ROOTS – (I’m cheating because the work paragraph was getting too long!!) ROOTS is the SA’s annual renewal conference, held in Southport. To cut a long story short, we get a huge tent, pack it with prayer stations and a glorious prayer team, and then 4000 people descend (There are loads of other top quality venues too). It’s the first bank holiday weekend in May, so a week today we will be there (argh!). So this week has passed in a flurry of packing boxes, losing gazebos, purchasing silk flames, compiling endless lists, misplacing vital components, driving round South London and squeezing stuff into mini-buses. I can’t wait for ROOTS this year, it feels like God has some exciting things up his sleeve!!
Wandsworth – Wandsworth is great and wondrous. Good things are happening here. Last Saturday we held a Civic Service, with the Mayor, Head of the Council, Police and MP’s etc. We also lauched the Wandswoth Street Pastors team, which was very exciting. 170 people came and we chatted, prayed, networked and generally had a fab time. There was a cool gospel choir too! The next few weeks look exciting too, as we have a couple of specific days set aside for prayer and prophetic intercession for the borough. So I am really looking forward to those. I’m heading up a lovely team of ‘Prayer Pastors’, which is great experience. Oh, and the corps hall is nearly built. It’s looking very swish and it’s all feeling a bit more real! We should be in the new building by September. Apart from that, life at the Boiler Room is exciting. Oh, I’m speaking this weekend there and haven’t written my sermon yet – this is not so good!!
Life – Life has been an intriguing old thing the last few days. Along with a host of other joys, I was ill last week, so was looking forward to a nice week before the madness that next week will be. But my life has resembled an Eastenders script over the last few days, with one late night drunken admirer turning up at the door, and then a couple of nights later the police!! It’s ok, I do not have a secret criminal past… they just wanted me to help them with some stuff. (I’d have been wholly more appreciative had it not been 12.15am!!! )Think it’s all sorted now though. Although I think my housemates probably think I’m mad!! Hasn’t been much space for much else, what with ROOTS prep. Oh, I went to Costa on Monday and debated the issue of grace… that was a highlight!
Misc – I can’t think of much else but I love the word miscellaneous. So must think of something interesting to say!! Oh, that’ll do. I’m looking forward to May 12th, because me and an esteemed Wandsworthian colleague are off to Sweden to teach on prayer for a week… So that will be fab.
Also, I want to recommend that you all read ‘A Certain Rumour’, by Russell Rook. It’s all about Cleopas and the journey along the Emmaus road, but it’s about so much more than that. It’s about the Kingdom of God, hope, lots of exciting things like that… a top read.
Philip Pullman is another of my favourite authors, and he’e just published a book called ‘Once Upon A Time In The North’. I am very very excited about Monday, when I will be able to buy and read this.
Now, I need a new book to read after that. (I am behind on my target of 100 this year)… anyone have any suggestions?
Hope Blossoms
Isn’t it weird that just when things look exclusively grim, God steps in with some snippets of hope. Suddenly instead of being frustrated by the constraints of my circumstance, I am excited by the possibilities of what God can do through them.
Accompanied by the most excellent 24-7 spaces devotions/podcasts, (http://www.24-7prayer.com/spaces) I have been thinking about Mary Magdalene’s experience post-crucifixion. I’m amazed by her hope, even when there was totally nothing left to hope for. I am touched by the tender scene when she meets the risen Jesus….anyway, that’s for my sermon on Sunday so I shouldn’t go down that road too much here
Today I was made hopeful by the story of a friend who’d gone into a really tough sitaution today and came out praising.
I was also made hopeful by seeing the first draft of a resource I’ve been working on for a few weeks. It’s lovely in that moment when it turns from being ideas in your head and words in an email to something you are physically holding in your hand. I get such a buzz from the creative bits of my job
Tonight in our weekly prayer meeting my hope was really ignited, as we talked about the miracles we were hoping and longing for. Focussing on that stuff really turns your mind from thinking about the restraints of the present to the thrill of what could be.
Hope is a good thing methinks.
Dave
On the way home from church yesterday, we exuberantly piled onto a bus heading towards Tooting. It was busy with tired shoppers, fractious infants and us, a group of 6 Salvationists plus one pushchair-bound (and also semi-fractious) infant.
In all the noise and chaos, a fair amount of seat swapping took place. We juggled preferring others, mobility needs and proximity to said pushchair. At some point in the proceedings the guy sitting on the double chair next to my single seat shifted his backpack, to make room for the burgeoning crowds. His name, I found out, was Dave.
Unfortunately no-one sat down. I was a little embarrassed that certain members of our group seemingly preferred to stand than to take up his offered seat. So I smiled, acted apologetic, and generally tried to cover over our wholesale rejection of it. I expected that to be the end of the interaction, I expected to retreat back into my thoughts, but it was not to be.
”Where’s the Citadel round here then?” Dave ventured, a nod to the fact that we were all, (infant excepted), decked out in the familiar Salvation Army gear. Surprised at his use of lingo I explained briefly where it had been, and that we were borrowing another church due to the rebuilding of the hall.
The conversation flourished, he talked about work, how he was on the way home from a nightshift, travelling from Victoria to Carshalton (an unenviable distance if relying on buses). We then got onto issues of faith – I was amazed and touched by his honesty, and the fact he was so willing to talk.
Dave talked about his life, his dog, recipes involving haddock and mashed potato. He shared his health concerns and his thoughts about religion and action etc.
He commented that it was sad that we no longer talk to each other. That we are all carrying stories and so often we skim over an opportunity to share those with each other and allow them to briefly correlate.
I could see the rest of the group watching this quizzically, watching for signs that I needed rescue, wondering what we were so engrossed in discussing.
I was listening to Dave, feeling quite disturbed, thinking that it would have so easy to have ignored him, to have missed the moment, for him to have spent another two hours on a bus interacting with nobody. I was also feeling privileged, that of all the people in the world who could be hearing his story, it was, at that moment, myself.
He had a lot of respect for the SA, a lot of people do, but he said he missed seeing us out on the streets now. He missed knowing where we were and seeing us talking to people. I think what he missed most of all was talking to people. It was like loneliness emanated from him. I felt a pang of sadness that I was going back to an evening of music videos and pancakes, while he was on his own.
We left him at the corner, he stayed watching cars go by. He’d given me £2 to put in our collection, I left wishing there was more I could have given him, hoping that out conversations about faith would have encouraged him a little.
It reminded me of the responsibility of faith. The responsibility I have not to keep my head down and keep myself to myself. There are people and sitautions that are calling out for our interaction, our comment, our conversation.
I’m praying that Dave does have, or that he finds some people he can love and be in community with. I know that I value it beyond all the physical possessions and passing surroundings I have here. I’m also praying that I will be more vigilant for these occasions, so I won’t miss them when they arise.
Grappling with the call
This is unlikely to be an especially coherent entry. My mind is full of jumbling thoughts and ideas, underpinned by the Still Small Voice whispering that things are not as they seem.
Back at my desk, back in my office, the temptation is to call up as many people as possible and ask them to get involved in 24-7 weeks. I’m pretty certain I could find 52 churches who would do that… it wouldn’t be too much of a task.
This would be the easy route, however, I am painfully aware that this is not what God is asking of us, of me.
We had a word emailed into the office this morning about this journey back into 24-7 prayer. I was especially struck by the following lines:
“I believe God is calling us to wait, be silent and still. In fact as I type I think that if there is to be a launch of 24-7 again there may need to be some changes. Due to the Army’s ‘practical and doing’ character, many 24-7 weeks have become programmes where people ‘do’ a slot and do lots of creative things, especially the youth. I believe there should be an emphasis on stillness, meditation, silence, listening.”
The more I think about it, the more I am hit by the uncomfortable truth that making another year of prayer happen by doing everything we did last time, is simply not what God is saying to us. This time is different, we are a new generation, the land that God is calling us to possess is not the same as it was seven years ago. We are not called to take the wide, familiar path but the one that is narrow, uncertain, the road less travelled.
Filling slots would be easy. As my friend says in the words above, we are well practiced in ‘doing’ prayer. The bit of me that longs for an easy life wishes we could go about it the simple way.
The 2001-2 year of prayer opened amazing doors for us as a denomination. We have seen God do amazing and incredible things as a result of it. My heart swells with excitement as I consider what God could and will do through us this time.
My questions remain though:
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How do we stop this becoming tokenistic? – it’s not just about ‘doing’ 24-7.
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We heard a very definate call about the need for a return to the ancient disciplines – things like silence, solitude, fasting, meditation. How can we ensure that these are woven into the very fabric of 24-7/SA, rather than the active, programmy 24-7 we have become quite used to.
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What are the defining characteristics that God is bringing out of this new push in 24-7 prayer? Are we brave enough to walk into the dark and take the narrow path God is nudging us towards?
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How do continue to walk in partnership with all that has gone before – the older generations, the established prayer centres and leaders that have sprung up since the first year. At the same time, how do we make sure that those who God is calling to carry this thing forward are released and equipped.
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This can’t be just another Salvation Army fad or phase. How do we protect ourselves from publicising this in a way that makes it seem like that.
So that’s a lot of questions, and my sense about the way forward is that God is not going to give us a neat list of hows and whens and actions to take. This thing isn’t about playing 24-7.
I think the weeks ahead will involve a lot of listening to God. A call to sacrifice our ‘good ideas’, in the light of His, which may look pointless or foolish and yet will turn out to be exactly the right way forward. If you have any senses, hunches or revelations about what some of these will be, please feel free to share them with us!
Returning to my picture of the suspension bridge – this renewed call to 24-7 is not about crafting something which looks the part, but it’s about taking a leap into the ravine, into the unknown.
Serviette Seminars
I’m writing this from my room at Swanwick (I’m loving the wireless network). I’ve been here since around 2pm yesterday, for the wonder that is The Gathering, our bi-annual prayer conference in the Salvation Army.
About 100 people have gathered from accross the country. Yesterday it was bleak and very wet, and people squelched in a little uncertainly, today things have found a bit more of a groove, we have listened to speakers, worshipped a lot and ran a cycle of seminars.
I spoke on the importance of identity, of knowing who we are in Christ etc. There were about 20 people and it went fine. I was a little amused as I am usually Miss obsessive preparation for these things, and yet I only had some scribbles on the back of a serviette!!
Later today we have another seminar type thing, and then a ‘Council of War’, which will be a chance to pray into some stuff and listen to God etc.
Tomorrow we have another keynote session, another round of seminars and then we’ll be heading back Londonwards. It’s very odd to know that in 24 hours it will all be over.
I’m not really awake enough to comment any more on things, but will suffice to say that it has been good so far, it has been lovely to meet up with old friends and that I am excited to see what happens next.
Before and Nearly
Today was one of those days which felt like a long pause before something happens. This morning, like most other mornings this month, I woke up and clambered disorientatedly over the pile of presents. Like most other Sundays, I went to Church (the local Anglican church today – it was fab).
Like almost half of 2007′s Sundays, I prepared for our church meeting at 3pm, and took the bus later to and from our cell group, but today didn’t really feel like any other day.
Firstly, we sang ‘O Come O Come Immanuel’ in the service this morning. The lyrics are evocative and speak of redemption and release. With an organ backing, the words seemed to reverberate around the church and the sentiment seemed exagerated. It was as if we were singing the verses about Wandsworth, as if the verses themselves became an act of intercession.
Our church meeting this afternoon was different too. There were over 40 of us, everyone turned out to celebrate, hand out presents, share coffee and worship together. There was the same intensity about our gathering, as if we really meant the things we were saying and praying. It was such a joy to dish out the pile of presents, knowing I won’t have to purposely avoid tripping over them tomorrow morning, although I wish I could be there to see people opening them. I love giving gifts.
The very atmosphere of Wandsworth today seemed to be imbued with a sense that we’re approaching something. Traffic jams lined the main road outside of our meeting place, and we marvelled that Jesus is perhaps the only person born 2000 years ago who still has the ability to bring the city roads to a standstill.
By the time we had finished, a thick fog had fallen, and the greasy streets seemed muffled and silenced. The last few days have been manic here, but tonight it felt like everyone had bought shopping enough, emptied Sainsburys enough, wrestled with wrapping paper enough, squeezed onto buses enough and there was a momentary lull. (I’m sure tomorrow will be pretty hemmed again, but it was nice that it all stopped for at least a few hours).
In cell we watched the Greatest Christmas countdown, ate cold turkey and marvelled that this was the last cell of 2007 for us. Again we recognised that we are anticipating something, that the celebration approaches, as do the endings, seperations and goodbyes of the end of the year.
Some of my housemates have already started the journey home for Christmas, my house feels half-inhabited, even here I can feel the strange ‘nearly-Christmas’ feeling. As I jump on the train tomorrow I know that instead of summising that people are off on a night out, or commuting home from work etc, we’ll all be engaging in similar trips to connect with and spend time with friends and family. I like the sense of antipation that brings, and the friendly understanding between fellow passengers clambering aboard carrying brightly coloured bags of presents.
My Christmas tour will take in Canterbury, Dunstable, Northampton and then Canterbury again. I am so looking forward to seeing different people, celebrating together, drinking vast quantities of Schloer and generally reflecting on the good bits of 2007.
Back in a week or so!!
Sunday Happenings
Yesterday morning I had a very strange experience. It was ‘good strange’, but all the same very bizarre!
As I mentioned previously we have been doing a bit of ‘church-hopping’ on Sunday mornings while our corps hall is being rebuilt. Yesterday my church leader went to speak at a church in Tooting, so a couple of us tagged along.
It was an awesome service, we sang for an hour, it was rocking and the atmosphere was electric!
Then came the weird bit. We were asked to come up to the front of the meeting so people could bless us and encourage us for the work we are doing for the community in Tooting (There were three of us from the SA, and then one police officer). We stood there for ages while they prayed, prophesied, kissed us, and were genuinely lovely.
I was bemused as I had only tagged along for the ride, I wasnt expecting any of the above, and I felt a bit of a fraud, because I don’t really do a lot for the community in Tooting!!
It so blessed me though, and reminded me that God knows what we need, and although it felt a bit strange, it was very lovely to have all these people being so positive and affirming. It challenged me to try and be as encouraging as I can to others, who may be in a similar place to me yesterday morning – really in need of that touch and reminder of God’s love.
In the afternoon we gathered as a boiler room for our regular meeting, there were a few people away, which was a shame as it was a really powerful and impacting service. One of the best bits was that Dot, the oldest member of our congregation, who is, at best, a little wobby, became an unwitting evangelist! She was waiting outside in the cold for us to come and open up (we were still trying to extricate ourselves from the Tooting Encouragers!) A lady saw and stopped and invited Dot to sit in her car. When we turned up 20 mins later, Dot had invited the lady into church, and she stayed for the whole service – how cool is that!!
Protests and Prayer
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
The Best & Worst
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.
