Transitions

Noun

The process or a period of changing from one state or condition to another.

Transitions are a process! Sometimes we have no control over the changes that happen around us. When we are not in control we can find ourselves fearful and resistant to change. Even when we are in control we can still find ourselves in moments of panic and uncertainty at the changes afoot.
 
Anyone who has given birth knows what it is to experience transition. For me it was that critical period of time when nothing seemed to to be happening. I was tired from riding the pain of contractions and all of a sudden there was a lull. Text book stuff! (Though I know not all women experience the same! )
Just when I was about to give birth I actually wanted to go to sleep! Maybe it was the exhaustion of the 9 months preparation, or maybe it was the drugs! Whatever it was, I had a strong urge to press the pause button, stop the world and get off!

Notionally I had accepted that we were going to have a child, we were happy with the transition from a couple of DINKY's (Dual income no kids yet) to being parents. The fact was we soon realised that we were on a roller coaster of change for which we had no control.
No control over the timing or date of birth, no control over the sex of our child, no control over the personality type of the child...... the preferences of our child....... the skills of our child.....and so on.

When we embark on a journey of change we mostly have no idea how things will turn out. The people we are in our teenage years often bear no resemblance to the adults we become. When we transition jobs we can end up being shaped and transformed into totally different people after a period of time. Ultimately it's to do with the way we react to change, whether we can embrace the 'pain' and the unknown that go hand in hand with changes and come out the other side enriched and expanded as people.

I have been working towards transition in my current role as consultant in an innovative company I have contracted to. As much as I love change I have still found myself in an uncomfortable place. There has been a 9 months research period which has involved writing strategic recommendations and now there is a lull whilst the strategy gets approval. At the this stage I have to confess the strong urge to press the pause button. I've worked hard towards strategising for change and now it's about to happen. There's no getting away from it, DELIVERY is imminent!

So my blogger friends I am currently procrastinating, writing a blog about it, distracting myself every which way and trying not to let the fears surface.  Remembering the lull of transition in the birth process I know what comes next. The time to push will come and after that the graft of those first few months of getting used to the new. Watch this space.

A confession!

HONESTLY? It's been the most difficult thing for me to find the bible interesting and relevant! There you go - I confessed. Until five years ago I had been dependant on preachers and teachers to bring the bible alive for me. Throughout my childhood I was blessed that my Dad was a bible teacher and a comedian! He had ways of making 'boring' passages understandable and captured my attention with his stories and manner of communication. Occasionally when I was asked to preach or teach myself, I would pray like mad and frantically study commentaries on relevant passages. Thank God for His great grace and anointings for those times.

Dad passed away almost five years ago now, but before he died he prayed a blessing over me as the eldest child and passed on his 'mantle'.  I'm not entirely sure what 'mantle' I now carry because as he laid hands on my head and prayed the prayer of blessing, his speech was incoherent due to the brain tumour which had affected this part of his brain. It was a powerful moment though which was witnessed by my mum - the Holy Spirit was there and there was a sense of great impartation. I wonder now if something of that 'mantle' involved having a relevant understanding of God's word.

Here's my story if you're inclined to want to know more.
I inherited one of Dad's many bibles and for the first year after he passed on I decided that I really should try reading the bible from start to finish. I had kidded myself that seeing as I had become a Christian at the age of 5 I must surely have read the whole bible a few times by now. I was personally challenged when  a preacher got the congregation to respond by putting up their hands if they had read the bible at least once through. Quite a few of us responded, she then asked us to keep our hands up if we had read it through twice, then three then four times. Most of us sheepishly lowered our hands and by the end only a handful of people remained with their hands up.

I'm dellighted to say that I'm now reading through the book my fifth time and can hardly believe how much it has helped tranform my thinking. I am so excited and inspired by God's word and ways that I want to encourage everyone I can to get into the groove!
One thing is for sure - It will look different for everyone because we're all so unique. We have to find our own authentic way of reading and responding to God's word just as we do our own relationship with the Godhead - Father, son and Holy Spirit.

For me I found a 'read the bible in one or two years' resource really helpful,(referenced below). I quickly sensed how anointed it was as it is designed to lead you to start reading in four different but related places of the bible at the same time! For the first four years I simply started reading the bible in different translations each year to saturate myself in and engage with the story of scripture. Nothing else, no study or commentaries or books to explain, simply a prayer that Jesus would guide me through and bring something to my heart each time I read. My heart response ended up looking like the pictures you see attached - prophetic, dynamic, relevant to every day situations. These have been picked from my personal picture journals where I try to record things that happen on a daily basis so I don't lose track of all the things that go on in a busy family. I began to notice how scripture was influencing how I saw each day. This year I've started to take it a step further and have begun to highlight the verses that stand out from every chapter I read. I've become interested in knowing which verses the Lord uses to speak to me. It's become like another type of journalling. I feel like a toddler just beginning to discover a new world. There is so much to learn and I can't wait to try out other ways and methods of reading. 

Inspired by a friend of mine who has been reading and leaving messages in bibles with her children specifically and prayerfully in mind, I have started to do that for my own children. I was recently told of someone who draws pictures in the bible inspired by what they read. The possible creative responses to the Word are endless.  I think it boils down to us being open and honest, admitting that we daily need help in understanding God's word and allowing the Holy Spirit to partner with us in our own unique responses. The Holy Spirit will be our teacher and guide as we ask Him to lead us. Bible teachers are great but they are no substitute for having our own living relationship with the Holy Spirit who will ultimately guide us into all truth.



Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.



More precious than Gold:

Published by the Lausanne Movement  - the McCheyne reading scheme. Beginning at Genesis (birth of universe), Ezra (rebirth of the nation), Matthew (birth of Christ) and Acts (birth of the body of Christ).

From Bethlehem with love

What a time of year to be in Bethlehem. As I write, every now and again my eye is drawn to catch a glimpse of one of the Hills that can be viewed through my bedroom window. I'm not sure why I was surprised when on the coach journey from Jerusalem, we meandered through hilly and steep streets to reach my destination. I guess I also shouldn't have been surprised by the myriad of Christmas decorations and lights which twinkled at me as I gazed out of the bus. Santa's and bells jollied me along the route and I decided there and then that I quite liked Bethlehem. 

Yesterday I had the adventure of playing lone tourist. I'd already done the 'group following umbrella'  thing in Jerusalem a few years back and had become frustrated at the early morning starts and the continual chivying along to the 'next' thing. It had been informative and it certainly ticked all the boxes in terms of going the places that counted in  the life of Christ. Except, and this is a BIG exception, we didn't do Bethlehem.Which, for a tour entitled 'following in the footsteps of Christ', seemed to me to miss the critical event. His birth! (Although I suppose as a newborn baby he wasn't ACTUALLY walking when he was in Bethlehem so I guess that's OK!!)

I had been given a local map of the area from my guest house manager which he helpfully colour coded by highlighting three walks from my location which would lead down to 'manger square' and the central tourist area. Off I set and was pleased when I managed to arrive at the first junction and could clearly see where I needed to turn left. I soon realised however that the map was not an ACTUAL representation of ALL the roads in the area. Needless to say I got totally lost after the next turn and ended up retracing my steps 20 minutes later to try a different route. Having been here a day now, I can see it's actually clear if you simply follow where the main thrust of people are walking and had I been told that in the first place, instead of being given a map, I might have fared better!

Once in the square I spotted what looked to be a church building and headed towards it. I got distracted by a small door in the side wall, by which a security guard stood. I asked the guard if I could go through, he  seemed friendly enough and nodded so I stooped down to squeeze through the door and step over the threshold. For those who know me, I am what people politely refer to as being height challenged, so you can appreciate that this was a very small doorway. The cavernous shell that opened up was dark and at floor level quite empty. My eyes were drawn to the hanging lanterns which cluttered down in a random fashion from the high wooden rafters. Only one end of the building seemed occupied and that by men in black gowns singing at an altar area. To each side of the altar there appeared to be an ante rooms. The one to the right seemed crowded so I headed left.

I noticed some wide, worn and aged steps leading down further under the altar area and as I peered down it occurred to me that this might be the spot where Jesus was reputedly born. As I stood at the top of the stairs the heat of the mass of bodies and stale air from beneath struck me.  A few people started making their up towards me from beneath and it was then that another thought occurred to me. I was actually about to enter and go down the 'exit and go up' side!  I bided my time until the stairs were free and quickly descended when the bodies lessened. I perched on a small marbled seating area opposite the grotto where the star was, which everyone seemed to be photographing, laying hands on and kissing. 

Slightly stunned to find myself here and so easily, I tried to get in the zone of worshipfulness .Thankfully there was an American group down there whose leader whispered loudly that they should pray and sing a carol before ascending so I joined in the rendition of 'O Come all you Faithful' (much to the consternation of the Muslim group who were at that moment descending on the proper side.) If it wasn't for the fact I was still in shock from finding myself there in the first place, it would have been a moving moment.  

So....I'm now midway through my second full day in Palestine. I have much to share about this. I will make this 'part one' of the story so that I can separately concentrate on sharing about the fact that I'm sensing the significance of Bethlehem as the earth venue for the cataclysmic outworking of the LOVE sent from heaven  in reconciling humanity to God. 

From Bethlehem with love. x   

  

When two tribes meet

As my newly married neice and hubby sat sharing a meal with us earlier this week, we reminisced over their recent wedding and shared some insights.

One observation was the fact was that two very strong families had actually come together for the first time. The path to a successful outcome in terms of relational dynamics was no mean feat. We were aware that both sides of the family had unspoken issues amongst themselves let alone the potential minefield there must have been in their coming together.

It's a credit to all who attended that grace was extended to each other and there was tolerance on all sides. Rifts and offenses were apparently laid aside and people began to speak with relatives they previously hadn't communicated with in years.

The marriage ceremony itself had included the reading of a modern passage from the ancient book.
   Love never gives up.
   Love cares more for others than for self.
   Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
   Love doesn't strut,
   Doesn't have a swelled head,
   Doesn't force itself on others,
   Isn't always "me first,"
   Doesn't fly off the handle,
   Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
   Doesn't revel when others grovel,
   Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
   Puts up with anything,
   Trusts God always,
   Always looks for the best,
   Never looks back,
   But keeps going to the end

The young boy who did the reading confessed later that he had felt tearful as he read. I'd like to think that something of the essence of the truth of love from the good book had permeated the gathering that day and love became unfolded in all our hearts.

It could have gone either way...... with two strong tribes there could have been jealousies, grievances and any number of offenses taken but the power of love conquered and the two tribes gloriously united to celebrate the joining of a young couple in Holy matrimony.

The Glory Place

Our 7 year old foster child popped a question the other month which took me by surprise. He asked what our house was called. He has a strange habit of asking things and articulating thoughts that I have already been having. A secret and deep heart cry of mine has been to have a GLORY home. I had already dreamed of naming our home 'The Glory Place.'

You may wonder why I haven't simply gone ahead and done this already. If truth be known it's been a challenging year for me in terms of being a Glory carrier. I'm a firm believer that followers of Jesus by nature are glory carriers. Since our little lad was placed with us he has challenged every spiritual principle we have lived by thus far.

He had been in care for three months and had already experienced a placement break down due to his anger issues and violent outbursts. From day one it was like having a ticking bomb come into our home. One never knew when he was likely to explode. The unpredictability, destruction and abuse became a daily occurence which challenged our teenage daughters to threaten leaving home. So much for a glory place. We were living in a war zone!

The support we recieved as specialist foster carers to hold onto this type of child was invaluable and certainly saw us through the worst few months of our lives as a family. He came to us carrying  7 years worthy of stored up and unchallenged violence, abuse, confrontation and social and emotional neglect. Exactly the worst case scenario depicted in National newpapers over the last year. Considered a ferrel child, he was actually in need of secure boundaries and unconditional love. But OH!....the cost to us all!

9 months on and we are finally sensing the peace, beginning to breathe again and feel like we are reestablishing our home order. This child has slowly got the message and is responding to the boundaries, loving discipline, follow through on consequences of behavious (both positive and negative!) and we are starting to feel that the war is over. He loves the boundaries and is like a dry and thirsty well when it comes to recieving praise and affirmation .

As I look back over the stormy months when as a family each one of us was battered in some way and emotionally abused, I can see that the GLORY has been there all along. In fact the glory has been  increasing through adversity and challenge. The glory that has been deposited, that we draw from and for which we daily crave has left our home more of a glory place than I guess it would ever have been if we hadn't opened our arms to this lost and written off child.

A day of contrasts

Sunday 30th January marked an amazing day of contrasts....beginning at the Blackbird leys leisure centre with over a thousand spectators and child/ youth participants ready to compete in a variety of high energy street dance competitions through to the ethereal atmosphere of the Magdelen Chapel choir.

It was the first time that daughter number one had the opportunity to take part in a competition and I had committed myself to being at her side until the end. By the time her turn came the beat of the music was already pounding in my head. This, combined with the fact that my normal caffiene free diet had been ruined through my having had several strong cups of coffee, left me 'stoked' and ready for the long haul.

Mel bravely joined the line up of 40 + youngsters in her age range who were about to compete for places in the solo 'starters' section. The music cued and I watched the four 'judges' circle round the eager and often  desparate dancers vying for attention and placement into the next round. The judges had a relentless job. I don't know how they did it but by the end of a series of dance offs the semi finals were announced and Mel's name was read out. She had been 'placed'. O the heights of joy but then of despair as the second chance she had to shine was quickly dashed as it became clear she was unfamiliar with the chosen music (it all sounded the same drum beat to me!) By the time she got into her rhythmn the music was over and the judges had already chosen the four who were to go to final stage. Crestfallen we waited to hear the worst and sure enough, when the contestants for the final were anounced, her name was not among them.

Hope did however loom on the horizon as she had yet to dance in the pairs 'starter' section. The only problem was that the solo dance offs had taken so long to complete that it was already 3pm by the time they even started the next section of dances which was for 'groups'! It emerged that the 'pairs' section was to be the last of the day.

Although committed to the end I had not anticipated that the end would be past 6pm. I needed to rethink the plan! I had already agreed to attend and pick up my Godson, a chorister with Magdelen College Choir, after the Choral evensong, so this complicated matters considerably. I had the car and it would mean a marathon cycle ride from one side of Oxford to the other for my hubby to relieve me and take on the role of parental support. Happily he agreed, (for me that is...he wan't so happy!) He arrived in due course and I was released from the heaving mass of sweaty bodies and empty high energy drink cans to discover  blissful retreat in the peace of the Magdelen College Chapel.

O the glory and bliss of silence as I snuck into place on the end of a row. The orchestra struck up and the air was filled with melody and a sense of the divine. The choristers filed in and the ensuing service took me to a place a million miles from the thump and grind of the street.  It was a few hymns in before the dull beat in my head receded and my body caught up with my spirit which was by now in raptures of joyous relief.

My Godson was a sport, he agreed to come back with me to the street dance to pick  up my daughter who by now had actually got through to the medal stage of the pairs. (That in itself is another story!) We watched in wonder at the culmination of a day of buzz and energy resulting in the final awards ceremony. The best of it is that daughter number one and her partner in the pairs were anounced as the winners!

Treasure Hunting

Having been asked to lead the children and youth sessions at a planned camp, I was pondering on afternoon activities and decided that a treasure hunt with a difference was in order.

The camp was no ordinary camp - for one thing there were no tents to sleep in. When I say camp I mean that there were several large meeting tents for various groups of people to meet in. People could decide if they wanted to stay in local camp sites, B&B's or hotels. My family informed me early on that they had no intention of coming if we planned to actually camp. The B& B was consequently booked asap!

We had spent some time teaching and helping the children and youth to listen prayerfully to God. Prayer being a two way conversation we felt it was important that children learn how to recognise God's voice and hear what He may be saying to them.  It becomes an adventure for children when they realise they can hear God for themselves.The idea of treasure hunt  is that children listen for clues from God and ask Him to show them where the treasure is. On the first afternoon we had sevearl clues between us all. A clock tower,  fish and chip shop and post office seemed to point to a town. Not knowing the area, we asked around where there might be a clock tower. No one seemed to know but it was suggested we head for a specific town nearby.

There were 5 adults and 5 children and we were all astounded when we arrived at the town and saw a clock tower, fish shop and post office on each side of us! We realised we were in the right spot and started looking for the other clues which we now trusted would lead us to the people who we believed God would want us to encourage with His love...the real treasure!

Other clues included - a lady with bangles on her right arrm, a man with a green top, teenagers, soemone with a headache and many more. We spotted a lady with bangles on her arm, a man  with a green top and teenagers. We  were able to confidently approach various people and ask if they would like prayer for anything. Eveyone was pleased to receive prayer and the children were able to pray with confidence knowing that God had led them very specifically to these people.