A Perfect Day March 14, 2009

…is what I’ve had today. It was great and refreshing and celebratory and relaxing and funny and inspiring and brilliant!

It started early, we jumped on a bus at 8.30 and headed towards Westfield, which is this gargantuan shopping centre (nay village) that opened in Shepherds Bush just before Christmas. The bus driver was a speed demon and I’m sure we took some corners on two wheels, but we made it alive. Perfect!

Once within the gleaming Westfieldian walls, we headed to a comfy coffee area and drank latte and tea. Starting the day off with a caffiene fix is always a beautiful thing, and I laughed more than I have in a long time, as I relaxed in the company of one of my good friends from church, her older sister and two of her friends. The conversation covered everything, from new shoes to how to keep shower tiles gleaming. Sometimes one needs those conversations which just dance over the inanities of life. After this, the three keen shoppers departed on a quest for handbags, and my pal and I sat wiling time away and chatting some more. Perfect!

We laughed at the absurdity of sitting in a huuuuuge shopping centre with neither of us having the stamina nor the incentive to buy anything. We wandered to Paperchase, where I snaffled up the most lovely sheet of rainbow coloured paper, and my friend got a lovely purple diary, but that was as far as the purchasing went. My lovely companion brought a newspaper, we found some comfy chairs, and we sat down and chilled out some more as we waited for luncheonry. The centre was still quite quiet, and it was nice to read and write and rest. Perfect!

Lunch was awesome. We headed to a restaurant called Byron, which advertised itself as a real burger place. And it was incredible. We all had open ‘Byron burgers’, with no buns. We sampled the delights of battered courgette chips, we ate yummy coleslaw and onion rings, and the conversation flowed happily and hilariously. It was perfect!

Where else to go after lunch but to get a coffee before the hardcore afternoon shopping session began?!! We sat and watched people eat huge slices of cake around us, feeling very full after our burgers but very much enjoying our hot beverages. We talked about the wonder of swap parties, and I think I convinced them of the merits of such occasions. I loved the company of my four friends, and we laughed a whole lot more. Perfect!

They trundled off to hit more shops, and we headed to a (very swish looking) hair dressers for my friend to have a trim. I sat there, happy as larry reading ‘OK’ and ‘Hello’, while she was pampered and preened. She looked fab and I enjoyed the unusual reading material. Perfect!

Next, we all reunited at another coffee place (because apparently coffee and cake were only £2 after 2pm). They queued excitedly and I said goodbye to the merry band and headed my way Waterloowards. Even sitting on the tube singing along to Take That songs in my head cheered my soul. Perfect!

I leapt off the tube prematurely at Charing Cross, and mooched down towards the river. London was at its best I think, buzzing enough to be interesting, yet not annoyingly full of tourists. I loved walking across the Golden Jubilee bridge, listening to the rumble of trains behind me, smiling appreciatively at the lone steel drum player, pausing to enjoy the feeling of the spring sunshine on my face. On the other side I wandered around the sprawling second hand book stall, window shopped in Foyles (which is one my my fave bookshops in the world), and tried on plastic rings -with huge felt butterfles attached – in the Southbank shop. I loved just taking things at a slow pace, having time and space just to wander and think and enjoy the city. Perfect!

When I got to Waterloo, I met with another lovely friend and we spent an hour catching up on life, in all it’s glory and intricacy. We laughed a lot; and it was one of those conversations which reminded me of quite how many brilliant people God has brought into my life, how blessed I am to be able to grow and share and learn alongside them. I enjoyed the brilliance of (more) latte and splendid chocolate tiffin cake. It truly was a perfect conclusion to a day of glorious perfect things!!!

I hope there shall be many more such days!

Collagery! March 2, 2009

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.

Swap Party Genius January 26, 2009

On Friday evening I had a great time with some friends merrily swapping a range of bizarre presents, unwanted home trinkets, and a range of other eclectic items (hot stone massage kit anyone?)

I was very proud with the haul I came home with. Although it amused me that I’d travelled furthest and managed to leave with the most cumbersome items

 This was my first gain, it’s wonderful banana bubble bath.

 A duck egg, mustard, teal & olive scarf.

 Cross necklace (I’ve needed one since mine broke in half in October!)

And… my personal favourite and for which I had to employ all my guile and cunning:

 Three individual prints of beach huts and the hull of a boat. I love them.

The other thing I learnt at the swap party was that lemon torte and hot chocolate melt in the middle pudding make the best dessert combo!

Twelve Things December 30, 2008

I went for a walk today and took some photos of a very wintry Wandsworth. As I wandered, I thought back over the last twelve months, and tried to think of some words to describe them. Colourful is a good word. As is surprising. After this I chose twelve things that stuck out especially as highlights from 2008.

1. Trips

I’ve been to some new cities this year, but most noteably I remember my trips to Hong Kong and Sweden. There’s nothing quite like the Himalayas at 5am, I have discovered. And I shall forever be searching for sweetcorn soup of the same quality as we found in Visby. There were a lot of hours on planes. There are a lot of great memories.

 

2. Birthdays

I turned 25 this year, and my lovely friends organised a fab weekend involving the theatre, a trip to York and Leeds, real live Vikings, and french pastries, among other delights. Then there was the dual birthday day I organised in March. I loved parading round London in bright red T shirts, advertising our adventure.

3. Creativity

The ROOTS Prayer tent, countless collages, plus creative Christmas present preparation kept me busy for a lot of this year. I think there is glitter permanently ingrained in my carpet now. But it was worth every minute.

4. Buildings

This year we saw the new Boiler Room building spring up before our eyes. And in October we held the keys. Since then we have had the joy of unpacking, settling in, finding our feet, making it our own, and generally being very thankful for such a lovely gift.

5. Depth

The hardest journeys we take often bring the greatest depth to our spirituality. Often we wish it was less of a bumpy road, but then we wouldn’t swap the depth and freedom that comes from walking that path. That’s definitely been my experience over the past twelve months. I can’t wait to see how God builds on this stuff in the months ahead.

6. Bike Riding

In June I decided to breach the final frontier and teach myself to ride a bike. Armed with some determination and some cycling proficent friends, I attempted this. I fell off, got laughed at by a drunk, and ended up permanently scarred… but it was a laugh, and worth every minute.

7. Baking

I inherited the gene! I can do it. And what’s more I love it. At the beginning of the year I wouldn’t have known one end of a whisk from the other, but by the end of the year I am merrily baking regularly. I spent a whole Saturday before Christmas having a ‘bake day’, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Today a fuse blew while I was cooking, incapacitating the fridge/freezer (which wasn’t much of a problem to my baking) and the oven (which kinda was). I’m proud to say I fixed it!

8. Rhythms

This year I’ve intentionally taken things a little slower, and built in space and time to relax, rhythms of stillness alongside those of activity. Time when my phone isn’t on, when my computer is shut down, when I’m just doing nothing. I’ve learnt to relax in new ways, and it’s a lesson I’ve been glad to learn. 

9. Work

I think I may have the best job in the world. Highlights this year included travelling to a wondrous place called Stourbridge, where I really enjoyed hanging out with the summer school taking place there. I’ve also enjoyed some of the more international conversations we’ve been having recently. I’ve loved brainstorming events that are coming up next year. And I’ve loved writing and designing resources.

10. Reading

I was amazed by Philip Pullman’s ‘His Dark Materials’ trilogy at the start of the year. And I ploughed through the thirteen (yes… thirteen) Lemony Snicket ‘Series of Unfortunate Events’ stories. I was less enamoured by these, but reading them all was an achievement. I’ve also loved GP Taylor’s work this year.

11. Friendships

I think I’ve spent more hours in Starbucks than ever before this year. I’ve loved musing with friends over lattes, meeting new people as well as catching up with old friends. In the summer I went out for a meal with three of my school friends I hadn’t seen for about five years. It was amazing to see them again, to see where all lives had taken us and to reminisce about old times together.

12. Christmas

I always get excited about Christmas, and this year was no exception. I loved all the run up to it, making cards and shopping and planning intriguing wrapping disguises. I loved spending Christmas with friends, listening to cheesy Chrimbo CD’s, playing ‘20 Questions’, eating the most yummy sausagemeat in the world ever, and squirreling out boxing day bargains.

Christmas Highlights December 29, 2008

I had a wonderful Christmas this year. Full of all the best things: Great friends, great places, yummy food and lots of laughing. There were so mnay bits of it that I’d like to freeze frame, but I’ll have to suffice with writing about them instead.

My first favourite Christmas moment was on Monday evening. It had been an intriguing old day, to say the least, and my very good friends, having some awareness of this, invited me back to their house. We cooked tuna steak and fried potatoes, which are not traditional Christmas fayre, but it was just lovely to spend time together. I had been creating some complex Christmas presents this year, so they helped me with some last minute packing conundrums, and then we drunk tea and planned a post-christmas shopping trip. Perfection.

Christmas really began on Wednesday, when I hot-footed it to Canterbury. I love travelling on Christmas eve, everyone on the trains have that misty-eyed, ‘I’m making a significant journey’ look about them. Most are lugging bright bags brimming with presents. Everyone smiles and even the ticket inspectors wish you seasons greetings.

Once there, the first highlight of my Christmas had to be the community carol singing. Picture a couple of thousand people squished into a crossroad of streets, an open-topped, double decker bus with a conductor, attempting to keep everyone in time, an enthusiastic Salvation Army band, lots of carols, and the Archbishop of Canterbury. The carols were an intrigue, not least the bizarre Canterbury version of jingle bells, but the whole experience was very festive. And the Archbishop’s message, if short, was fantasticly relevent to where I’m at.

Christmas day itself was great. We woke early and opened presents. I always knew that I had some lovely friends, but the haul of lovely gifts I received confirmed that again. I’ve been trying to work out what my favourite gift was. Perhaps the notebook personalised with photos of us down the side. Perhaps the vase shaped like a coal scuttle. Perhaps the bright pink bath towel, or the cuddly reindeer. I think probably the homemade toadstool hat wins the prize, but it’s a close call. The rest of the day passed quickly. We went to Church, we had a fantastic Christmas meal, we played games, we laughed a lot. Highlight of the day was probably my friend sitting down on a cuddly pheasant in the middle of the church service. This would have been fine, except said pheasant is musical, in that it makes a sound not dissimilar to a whoopee cushion when squeezed. We had some trouble composing ourselves after that.

Boxing day was marvellous. We decided to brave the sales. I realised that I enjoyed shopping in Debenhams more than shops like New Look and River Island, and wondered if this was evidence that I am getting old before my time?We had a lovely coffee and a natter in Starbucks, which is a random place to end up in on Boxing day. Then it was back home, to watch Doctor Who, which was very, very good. Then off out to some friends in a nearby village. We had some more lovely food, and there were more lovely presents, (including a test to check the dog and cat’s IQ… genuis!) and I don’t think I’ve laughed as much as I did that evening, in a very long time. Photographic evidence of the hilarity will hopefully follow.

Saturday and Sunday were quieter, it was just great to be there and to be able to take things at a slower pace. I could feel myself unwinding and relaxing and enjoying it all lots.

This week I am looking forward to New Year’s celebrations, another Canterburian trip, and the wonders that 2009 will bring

Surprise! October 27, 2008

One of the things we do well at the Boiler Room in Wandsworth is party. We don’t need much of an excuse, and everyone will happily bring along some breadsticks or some flapjack and join in the celebrations.

One of the things that marks our community is that, for a lot of people, it exists as their family. I think that makes the celebrations we do have, more special in a way. There is always a real sense of love and a subconscious knowledge that when we gather to mark a wedding, or a birthday, it is really important.

This weekend we held a surprise party for the lovely Dee. Here is a photo, just after she arrived:

She had a small inkling that we were plotting something. (Another thing it is hard to do when you’re in close community with people is to keep secrets!), and she had been expecting something similar since organising a surprise party for our ministers a couple of years ago, but the evening went well.

I love a good party. We played pass the parcel, pictionary, and we ate party food and macaroni cheese. Plus there was the awesome scrabble cake… how cool is this:

(ps… we know surprise is spelt wrong… we had some space issues!)

Everyone milled around, enjoying each others’ company and making sure Dee knew how fab we think she is. We all wrote birthday messages in a book for her, so that was doing the rounds too.

After days laminating scrabble letters, making banners and trying to make Dee think she was going out for a meal without lying too heinously, I was thrilled with the final result. One of my favourite things to do is to think up imaginative ways to do presents or parties, and executing surprises is the most fun in the world… After all of this though, I was pleased to be able to sit down and enjoy the celebrations with a good strong cuppa!

Hope, Vulnerability, Intimacy September 16, 2008

The question? How can I develop a healthy self-image when every formative influence in my life taught me half truths, or worse, complete fallacies?

It’s one of those, ‘if I had a pound for every time’ moments. Maybe it’s worded slightly differently, maybe it’s not so bold an admission, but the confusion and longing in the words is the same. And I’m looking beyond, beyond a girl with her nails manicured immaculately, beyond the teenager hidden in swathes of baggy clothes, beyond the studious violin virtuoso who practices to drown out the discordant insecurity in his heart. Their cry is the same.

What hope is there? For those of us who didn’t have the cosy luxury of 2.4 security? For those who had to scratch and scramble their way to survival. Those of us from the ‘wrong’ side of town, with the ‘wrong’ surname, with opinions and experiences alien to the status quo? How do we ‘make it?’

It’s in conversations like that where I wish there was a book that spells it out. Where I wish there was a neat 2+2 formula: read these Bible passages, add 3.6 hours of prayer, divide with the square root of forgiveness and all will be well. I’m an organised person and, so often, I find myself wishing there were rules, patterns, a neat path through what sometimes seems insurmountable terrain.

But wishing doesn’t answer the question. Wishing doesn’t encourage the person sitting in front of me. Wishing doesn’t comfort anyone in the middle of the night when sleep is elusive. What can be done? What does make the difference? How do you begin to chip away at the pesky suggestions of unworthiness? How do you start to silence the whispers of shame, blame and condemnation?

I love the line in the ‘wear sunscreen’ song, where Baz Luhrman talks about the basis for his advice being solely his own meandering experience. I find myself thinking that walking this journey out gives you a clearer picture than the even best textbook could. It is meandering, imperfect, unfinished but honest.

Sometimes my answers are more coherent than other times. But they usually centre around a few factors.

Hope
Where do we get it, if we have none? And worse, what about those times when we have dared to gather up the fragile flakes of it, from the edges of our existence, only for them to be smashed and crushed? Job puts it like this: “when I hoped for good, evil came; when I looked for light, then came darkness. (ch 30:26). For me, hope is a bit like a tow rope: it looks limp and insignificant, but it connects you to something that can pull you onwards, even if your own engine is corroded and broken. When you’re being towed, you can do little else but cling on and trust that the vehicle towing you is strong enough (Is it obvious here that I had some unfortunate childhood experiences with an ageing Lada?). You can’t necessarily see what’s in front but you will make it to your destination. It is God’s responsibility and strength that will direct us into truth, but it is our choice to hope, even when it seems futile, that connects us to him and pulls us away from a life stranded on the hard shoulder with no packed lunch. Determination, persistency, hanging in with gritted teeth even when it feels like we have no fight left; it all works together for good in this stuff.

Vulnerability
I spend a lot of time thinking about the relationship between fight and surrender, strength and weakness, what is victory and what is not. I’m loving the Message translation of 1 Corinthians 1:25: “Human wisdom is so tinny, so impotent, next to the seeming absurdity of God. Human strength can’t begin to compete with God’s ‘weakness’.” The ‘seeming absurdity of God’… yeah, I see that. In this stuff it’s the moments where he asks us to give in and let ourselves need Him and other people, the times we’re called to trust, even though it has got us into deep and dangerous waters before, the challenge to admit that we don’t have all the answers neatly scribed in a perfect paperchase notebook… that’s so opposite to what the world (and the church?) would call strength sometimes. Jesus’ greatest victory was won through torture, death and seeming defeat, Often we learn the most vital truths about identity when it looks like we are broken beyond repair.

Intimacy
Hmmm, this one’s a bit of a paradox. Struggling to understand our identity makes it hard to believe that God would want to spend time with us. The pesky whispers suggest that everyone else can connect with him effortlessly, but for us it’s like trying to carry out a mobile phone call on a cross country train – erratic, interrupted, and broken up by repetitive tunnels. And then I think of Peter… Insecure, hotheaded, outspoken… And I love the whole exchange after Peter has denied Jesus. He doesn’t just brush over the embarrassment, and he doesn’t flay Peter for his betrayal… Jesus’ reaction brings redemption to the situation. And, in asking Peter to affirm his love, there springs out something of destiny. When we can hold, even briefly, the brave thought that our stumbling and inconsistencies do not exclude us from his love or his plan, when we find we can whisper, ‘you know I love you’, even if we speak with stuttering uncertainty, I believe something exciting happens.

I think I used to think that some of us had the advantage of a healthy grasp of our identity and some of us had to do without it. But I am increasingly sure that it isn’t this black and white. I’m finding we’re all more murky shades of grey. We are all more secure in certain areas than others, we’re all on a journey where we can find out a little bit more of this truth every day. It isn’t an obstacle we jump over and then forever count as conquered. Most of all, I feel like it is an adventure. Like those scratch-cards where you have to rub away the silver coating with a coin to see what is hidden underneath, we’re all in a state of ‘mid-uncovered-ness’… but our value is greater than any figure even the most shiny one could ever state!

September September 4, 2008

My life is often a feat of trying to fit a lot of diary engagements into not enough diary days. Especially in the excitement that is September, when prayer events aplenty seem to spring up all across our fair isle. I love the busyness, the feeling of being kept on my toes, the drive to keep going to God for inspiration because my own supplies have long since dwindled.

September comes with a sense that the year is drawing to a close. My ipod strayed to a Christmas song the other day and I didn’t forward skip it in disgust. Pretty soon the shops will be full of associated garb. I begin to feel the familiar sense of satisfaction that another twelve months are almost over and done with, and with that comes the urge to start looking at the statistics of my year. How many towns have I visited? What was the top moment? Where have I flown to? (and what was my carbon footprint like?) What has surprised me (there are some top contenders for that prize this year, let me tell you), What have I learned?

Also, meetings about next year have started to creep into my week. Both this week and last I found myself enmeshed in buzzing conversations, dreaming big for 2009, sharing concepts and visions and working out partnerships. I was excited about the potential of this year, and have not been dissapointed, and next year seems to be following suit. 

But there is more fun to be had before it’s time for that. Highlights of the next few weeks include trips to Bedford and Huddersfield and Banbury to hang out with lovely Salvation Army praying people. After that there’s a training day we’re pulling together that I’m really excited for. Exciting social occasions coming up include multiplicitous dramatic performances from my gifted friends, plus a cool engagement party, and an evening making Fair Trade goodie bags for a coffee evening we’re having with church.

Church is the other excitement in life at the moment. For the past twelve months we’ve been out of our building, while the dear old place was razed to the ground and replaced with an altogether shinier (and less death-trap-laced) new one. It’s pretty much done now, and it’s been really great to watch the finishing touches being applied. This leaves us with the fun process of shopping. So I have been measuring the height of filing cabinets, musing over the practicality of teal sofas and observing discussions about the correct type of potato masher to buy. I’ve learned things about decking out a church that I never would have even considered before.

All in all, these are exciting times. I find my head merrily full of projects that I am really able to get my teeth into. I find myself anticipating the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, amazed at what I have seen and experienced over the past nine months, and thrilled about what is to come.

A Beautiful Weekend August 11, 2008

Often my weekends seem to pass in a non-descript blur, or a flurry of work-related busyness. This weekend was a real exception though, and I loved it. It reminded me that God knows exactly what we need and when we need it. This weekend, I needed to kick back, to laugh and to relax, and I am so thankful that the last few days involved all of these.

My weekend kicked off on Thursday night, with a trip to see Mamma Mia, at the cinema. I had been a little cynical about all the hype, but pretty much as soon as the film began, I was loving it. I don’t think I’ve laughed that much for a long time, and I don’t think I’ve ever come out of a cinema feeling so cheered, so hopeful, so certain that life is good.

On Saturday I travelled to Canterbury to see a friend performing in a production of West Side Story. He did marvellously, navigating some complex costumic swapping, some daring dashes onto stage, and a battle with some young ruffians, which involved the loss of his hat. I really enjoyed the show, and was glad I’d gone. I love theatre, so this was a brilliant experience.

On Sunday we went to the seaside. It was gloriously sunny, we meandered along the lovely seafront, beveraged in a lovely bandstand, lunched on lovely fresh seaside fayre, wandered around a lovely harbour, and procured lovely ice cream. The seaside is one of my favourite places to be, and yesterday reminded me why.

The day ended with a service back at the church I attend on a Sunday evening. The worship was great, the sermon impacting, communion was intimate, and the whole experience felt like a really fitting end to a weekend that reminded me how abundant the gifts God lavishes upon us are.

Here are some of my favourite photos from the day:

Best Birthday June 16, 2008

 

Last Thursday I turned 25. Surely not a noteable birthday you’d think, as one of my presents stated, it lacks the youthful exuberance of 21, or the gravitas of 60… but for me it was a big celebration, and I was determined to push celebration to the extreme.

The celebrations started the weekend before last, with the balloon creatures and cake I already mentioned.

We continued on Tuesday, with a lovely birthday meal with my friends from church here in Wandsworth. They made me a huge summer snow scene cake, with strawberries and cream in the middle and a snowman on top. It was fantastic.

Thursday was my actual birthday, and it was a lovely day. It started with a birthday coffee, continued with a birthday lunch with some of my colleagues, then I went back to Wandsworth and got some lovely presents from my friends here (including the most lovely ever purse!). That evening I went along to our monthly poetry evening where we had birthday poems and cream cakes.

The celebrations continued with fervency on Friday, as the ‘Unparis’ weekend began. To explain, we had orginally mused about going to Paris for the weekend, but for a number of reasons we decided to abandon that, so my two good friends organised a weekend of celebration on English soil. I knew where and when to turn up and what to bring, but not our itinery or destinations. The surprises were lovely and fitting.

We began on Friday night in Wagamama’s. I was handed a parcel and an envelope marked, ‘or alternatively’. When I opened the parcel it was the book Lord of The Rings. I knew then that we were going to the theatre to see it. And it truly was an awesome production. What made my night was that three of my other Canterbury friends were there too… that was a lovely bit of the surprise. I’d been intrigued by the present one of my friend’s was carrying, as it was huge!! It turned out to be a framed newspaper front page with an article about me in it… cool!!

On Saturday morning I was instructed to arrive at Kings Cross at 10.10am. So I did! I was then handed an envelope, which contained three tickets to York. I was very excited about that, as York is somewhere I’ve always wanted to go. We jumped on the train, and my lovely friends had brought pastries to fit in with the Parisian theme. They also brought me a coffee table book on Parisian markets, which I duly entertained the train with excerpts from. I had to don a huge birthday badge which flashed… very subtle! (not!)

A bit further on in the journey I was handed another present. This was a printed sheet with the information about our hotel on. And a guide book all about York. It was cool to read all about where we were going and do a bit of plotting and planning.

When we arrived in York we found the hotel in the only rain shower of the weekend. It was a lovely hotel, with a huge triple bedroom. Very plush. We then walked into York, had some lunch, went on a Viking experience thing (complete with time travel, the opportunity to don a viking helmet, and coin pressing!). After a coffee we wandered round some more, buying some lovely fudge and taking in the Minster, which was beautiful. After this we walked along the river front, then went and had a carvary with a traditional yorkshire pudding.

On Sunday we got another train, this time I really did have no idea where we were going! About half way I realised we were going to Leeds! While there we met up with some good friends who live in a place called East End Park, and spent the afternoon with them, which was lovely.

It feels a bit weird that all the celebrating is over, but I am really aware that a birthday is just a summary of all that is to come in the coming year, and therefore there is a lot to look forward to and be thankful for. I’m so grateful for my friends who organised such a perfect weekend, who knew exactly what I would like, and also to everyone who helped make this birthday my favourite of the last 25!!