God's Word.

Up against it

Why does everything seem like such hard work at the moment? Everywhere I turn, in even the silliest of ways, life seems to be battling against me and do you know what.....I've had enough.

I've had enough of problems, changes and issues.

I've had enough of sorting everything out myself.

I've had enough of joking about it, light-heartedly, subtly asking for help.

I've had it.

Unashamed - London Women's Convention

Encouraging women to live for Christ?

They certainly did. Woah!

The amazing speakers, Di Warren and Rico Tice both delivered with their individual style with clarity, down-to-earth-ness and Godliness. Focussing on the theme 'Unashamed', the day was centred upon reasons why Christian's don't evangelise and reasons why we should.

These are the key points that stood out to me:

Sometimes we fear telling the people that we love the most about Jesus for fear of rejection. But if we don't take the risk of personal rejection, then it's the gospel that is taking the rejection in our silence, whether we intend that or not. It was highlighted that we are scared about people's reactions, therefore we action upon this thought:

'I love you, so I haven't told you about Jesus'

however, our response should be

'I love you so I need to tell you about Jesus.'

2 Timothy 1:8 states:

So do not be ashamed to testify about our Lord, or ashamed of me as his prisoner, but join with me in suffering for the gospel, by the power of God.

It's not promised to be easy. But we have no option.

In applying our passion for the gospel we were challenged to:

• Devote ourselves to prayer (which takes time and effort)
• Be a servent to others (Is my life the kind that raises questions, is my conversation the type that attempts to answer those questions?)
• Have the courage to cross the pain threshold (have you ever asked anyone 'would you like to look at the bible with me?'?)

One of the biggest challenges that came was in these words:

If we don't accept Jesus and ask Him to pay for our sin, we pay ourselves in hell.

There are friends and family, whom I love, who are going to pay for their own sin if I don't tell them about Jesus.

Do I love them enough to tell them?

I don't actually have a choice.

It's too late

Stayed in bed all morning just to pass the time
There's something wrong here
There can be no denying
One of us is changing
Or maybe we've just stopped trying

It used to be so easy living here with you
You were light and breezy
And I knew just what to do
Now you look so unhappy
And I feel like a fool

There'll be good times again for me and you
But we just can't stay together
Don't you feel it too
Still I'm glad for what we had
And how I once loved you

But it's too late baby, now it's too late
Though we really did try to make it
Something inside has died and I can't hide
And I just can't fake it

Clare Whittle 1980 - 2008

It's almost a year since Clare died. I can honestly say that there is not a day that has gone by that I haven't thought about her. It may have been an item of clothing that she liked or had commented on, a piece of jewellery she bought me, a song, film or TV program that she liked or we'd experience together.

I think of her parents and sister, Sarah, the holiday they were experiencing this time last year with no clues of what their return home would bring and the friends and family who are living each day, getting used to the fact that she's just not their anymore.

I plan to write to her parents, just to let them know that I haven't forgotten Clare, or forgotten them. I need time to think properly about what to write. At the moment, nothing sounds quite 'right'.

I can remember vividly, from the moment we were told about her being in hospital, to the moment it ended. The moments sitting with her parents ring in my ears as they shared with us the precious final moments the day before her funeral.

It's hard to grasp all the events that have happened since then and I thank God that Clare's lives on in the memory of all the people who loved her and who were privilidge to call her their friend.

It's been a while!

Blogging has become a little stale for lots of people so I thought it was about time I took the bull by the horns and made an effort to get back into it.

I've been in my flat for about two months now. I don't feel like I have got into any kind of routine, and it still doesn't feel normal, but I guess it's relatively early days.

The living room will be officially complete tomorrow when, hopefully, the sofa will arrive (and will fit), and the rest will have to take a back seat while my bank account takes a deep breath.

I was challenged by Mr Keith Hall, a while ago, to evaluate my 'Things to do (when I move into my flat)' list, so here goes:

1. Stuff the planned 'tea' menu and randomly go out for dinner. There's no denying that I like a plan, however, when the case has arisen, and it has a couple of times, I have made or accept a request to go out for dinner. Things to do point 1 - tick.
2. Stop apologising. It's hard to say whether this has been achieved, but I guess as there are no expectations to live up to or people to please within the context of my home, it's a "yes".
3. Spend more time with friends. Being lonely is something that worries me, so I have made a concious effort to spend time with friends. My locality now means that I don't have to take into account 'travelling home time' or disturbing a house mate, so staying out is certainly a more frequent occurance.
4. Invite Elyse round for tea. Tick. And she has made a start on the menu for next time!
5. Have my family to stay more. Both Mum & Dad and Nic & Alan have been down.
6. Have my family and Southern family spend time together. Tick.
7. Eat properly. Hmm. Started off well. Working towards.
8. Cultivate the gift of hospitality. This is something that has been significantly missing for the last few years and with a good start, I am definitely working on it. Tick.
9. Be more chilled. Sometimes it would be nice for someone else to make the phone call that needs to be made, so make the complaint, to ask the question, to simply give me a hug. But those things are not going to happen so chilling at times, when you're the only one to get something done, can be quite hard.

Including the list above that I wanted to change, there are other aspects of the move that remind me it was definitely the right thing to do. There are things that I miss. No doubt about that. But a lot of water has gone under the bridge and as time passes I pray that the memories that need to fade will.

I don't find analysing myself easy and it would really be down to other people to say whether 'Dawn' is any different but it's a healing process and with still lots of 'firsts' there's still a long way to go.....but it has got to be a good thing.

Is it time to get up yet?

I thought it was time to get up. Looking at my clock. It was 2am. I guess not then. I left it until 6.30am, which wouldn't be so tragic if I didn't have the day off (is that a double negative?).

Figuring that the early bird catches the worm and despite the fact that I can't focus on anything except this whole moving event that is happening this weekend, I am commencing today's Report Writing Day.....NOW, and hoping I get futher than my mind is allowing me to anticpate.

What is 'normal'?

A number of years ago I was introduced to the term 'new normal'. At the time, it made sense and was totally appropriate for the context, but my ever changing life and circumstance have brought along a serious overuse of this term. I have developed a severe allergic reaction to the phrase, which is beginning to turn my stomach, every time I hear it uttered.

A part of 'new normal' for me, however, is getting used to the fact that my best friend, for so many years, isn't there anymore. Having lived together for 6 years, we knew what each other was thinking, could finish each others sentence and in fact, probably did. One thing that frequently used to happen is that we would quote lines of films to each other, as many people do, often doing this at the same time. A few times over the past few weeks, I have quoted lines which simply haven't been picked up on by the people around me. I now find that I'm stopping myself from chanting the obvious, as to others it simply isn't. It's one of those little things that makes me feel sad, when it happens.

Last night I was at a film night at church and bizarrely enough, the phrase 'new normal' was used. I wasn't sure whether to cringe or laugh, as I realised the person who I use this phrase most frequently with (or actually, usually hear it from) was not the same person I had lived with and who I would usually look out for.

I chuckled quietly, as I realised that that in itself is a 'new normal'.

Good Surprise.

There are no 'google images' or words to express how I am feeling at this precise moment, or indeed, how I have felt for the past few hours!

Today has been A-MAZ-ING!

It really began at 4pm when I had an appointment with the site manager of my flat for a flat inspection. Having bought 'off plan', this was the first time I had seen inside the sculpture that will become my home, as I have watched it grow and develop for a number of months; it was the moment I have dreamed about. It was a shame that we were drawn immediately into info-sharing, knowledge-drenching, wall-snagging focus, without really being able to take in that this....this...was, IS my flat!

After almost an hour of inspecting walls and a guided tour of the site, including the gas meter, electric meter, water meter and bins(!), we walked away from the site not really sure what to say. Around the corner, out of site, we simply stopped. Deep breaths. Trying to let it sink in.

I'm still not sure it has!

I had a dinner-date with a friends shortly after, so didn't really have too much time to ponder the afternoon's events, so off I went to meet Kirsty....or so I thought.

Yes, I did meet Kirsty, though was even more delighted to walk into the restaurant, only to see another friend, as a surprise dinner guest. Lying to me that the large table we were sitting at was going to be shared with other 'randoms', because there were no tables left(?!), I speechlessly filled with tears, ready to enjoy a truely unexpected encounter......that's when the other's walked in! I just couldn't believe it. Six people (two of whom I live with!) had secretly arranged to meet with me, as a birthday surprise and I truely had no idea. They are all very good liars....as are other people in my life who knew about it. Shish!

I still just cannot believe that they went to so much effort for me. As I opened this blog, no words or pictures can describe. They did that for...me?

After a moment of sadness last night, a reminder of how things were and how things are going to be, I just really sensed, around that meal table tonight, that God was reitering his promise to me in a physical form: "it's going to be all right." My Dad pointed out tonight that there is a reason the events of this week worked in a particular order and I completely agree.

I feel truely lifted up. Truely, blessed. And truely in the right place.

Girls...and the people who knew about it (you liars, you!)....you all know who you are. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You have no idea what you have done for me tonight.

I am going to sleep content.....and I have not been able to say that for a long time.

x x x

Home-coming

I was a little worried yesterday about taking a wrong turning and ending up at the wrong location. It was certainly more than a little odd arriving in Upminster...but I needn't have worried:

It's going all right!

Having anticipated my moving out weekend for such a long time, I couldn't actually believe it when it dawned.

'Team Dawn' were on hand to keep me focused on the task. They were amazing. In every way. The process of packing the cars was very quick and within no time at all, we were ready to take the trip to Keith's parents, to unload it all! I drove away from Chelmsford, in the car on my own, glad that I could just try and take it all in and take a few (well, a lot of!) deep breaths.

It was good to spend the rest of the weekend with Mum and Dad, but at the same time, gave me that 'weekend-away' feeling, rather than one of having just moved out. Sunday evening was tough. The realisation that I wouldn't be going 'home' hit, quite early on. Despite all that had built up over the preceding weeks, I was beginning to miss all that 'home' represented and anticipate not going through the usual Sunday evening routine, which, although was difficult, had become 'normal'.

I had also placed an expectation on myself, based on comments from others during the day, that I should be fine - this was the moment I was waiting for, it was here, it was going to be all right. Only, it didn't feel like it. I was reassured that this expectation was wrong and it didn't matter what other people expected....I don't switch off my feelings that quickly. That made me sad! I wanted everything to suddenly be OK. I wanted to feel the burden lifted. I wanted to be able to smile....genuinely. But I actually felt worse than ever.

I knew deep down that it wasn't really over. I had to get used to living in someone else's house. I had to go back to the house on Thursday to clean, then again on Friday for the house inspection. Somewhere in all of that, normal working/army life also had to continue.

Returning to the house on Friday was odd. It was the day my parking permit ran out too (note to self, remove it from car). We waited while the house was inspected and assured the inspector that every change/modification had been done by the landlord - she needs to check before we get our deposit back! Driving away from Chelmsford for that absolute last time was weird. There is now no reason to go back. That's sad. I have spent the last three years there, yet it now holds nothing for me.

I am now at my parent's house and the realisation that I really am 'homeless' is pretty distant. I have two weeks away from the stress, strain and burden that the South has become. Tomorrow, I travel to the Lake District to spend a few days with my sister and her family, in a caravan. I am really looking forward to the isolation that will be thrust upon me....yet am also a bit scared, life having been so intense, for so long. I need to relax. I need to close my mind from the things around me and rediscover who 'Dawn' actually is. Having turned into a stressy, unreasonable, emotional and moany kind of girl, the real Dawn Watson needs to re-emerge, ready to face a 'new normal' (hate that phrase with a passion!)

I'm looking forward to her coming back and wait with eagerness to see who she actually is. I question how far back I need to revert to find her...6 months to before this?...3 years, to before Chelmsford?....6 years to before Dagenham?...10 years, to before.....???

I don't know. I am hoping my nearest and dearest have seen glimpses of the 'real Dawn' in amongst those times, and they already know who she is....they they can tell me when she's back!

Countdown's counted down.

I can't quite believe that I'm sitting here looking at the countdown, with 1 hours and 52 minutes to go until the day dawns.

I'm now on to the 'Bits that don't really belong in any box' box. Otherwise known as the 'Dawn doesn't care anymore' box.

My car boot's packed with the stuff for Jenny and Denis', downstairs the boxes are piled high and in my bedroom, I have to walk sideways to get from A to B (and there was never that much room to start with!)

All that's left is my large picture frame above my bed, my bike and my plant pot in the garden.

I got told tonight it's going to be all right.

It's going to be all right.

Wrong and Humbled.

Wrong and Humbled.



When I was growing up, I remember my Mum and Dad telling me about a friend of theirs, in the years before we were born, at the army who, was the only Christian in her family. Life was hard and would be occasionally found at my parent's house, hiding out, taking refuge, talking things through, when things got tough.

The pain that was felt at those times must have been dreadful, to simply have nowhere else to go and no one else to talk to. I vividly remember feeling pity for the person, even though it was well before me, but in a smug, proud kind of way, that such a situation would never arise with me and thinking how lucky I was that I had a loving, Christian family, who would never attempt to restrict my 'access' to God, in fact, quite the opposite.

Recent events have brought this situation back to mind and I feel complete guilt for those naive thoughts, that were totally unfounded and, yes, built on pride. It's incredibly hard to carry 'stuff' alone. Everyone has their limit at which they need to let go and the point at which they can't take anymore...and I am beginning to realise that more than ever.

Tonight, as we ended Worship band, we sang the song published above. An amazing song at any time, but tonight, I sang with sheer desperation to get the words out, yet emotion and the tears that came alongside prevented any vague recognisation of the words:


You go before me

You shield my way

Your hand upholds me

I know you love me


And when the earth fades

Falls from my eyes

You stand before me

I know you love me

I know you love me


I can't handle much right now. Weakness shows in many ways and there are limited ways in which to turn. And I am ashamed that I now find myself in a position that I criticised. As I leave a path of destruction as I walk towards a mid-point in my journey, I cling onto those unsingable, as yet, words that God is already there before.....and I know he loves me.

Surprise Mail - Just the job (4)

I'm sure you know within this pack
Is a chocolate piece called Freddo,
And we both know over recent days
Your respponses have kept your creddo.

Surprise Mail - Just the Job (3)

Surprise Mail - Just the Job (2)

It can be long and lonely

Driving that daily trip

But once in a while just stop the car

Take out the lolly and dip

When you arrive get out of the car

Take out the stick and dab

And when you do just think of us

'Cos we know that you are FAB!

Surprise Mail - Just the Job (1)

When you get up

And then get dressed

Pull on your big brown booties

But don't forget to put in your bag

The enclosed tooty frooties.

Building Relationships - Love is...hard?

I'm not the easiest of people to get along with, all the time. Don't tell anyone I admitted to that! Last Sunday I blogged my need for the 'Samaritans' around me, not to leave me. My friends have been great and the week in the build up to the writing of that blog, was hard work. I pleaded for that love, support and kindness to carry on, even in the face of me not being able to return it in the way that I should, at the moment.

A week later, I still find myself with niggles that I find it hard to let go off. Yet I know that it's hard to constantly be picking up and encouraging the same person. It's hard to justify why I can't just snap out of it. Day 6, last week, told us that love is a choice. I did dispute that. But I also challenge the idea that lots of feelings are a choice. Sometimes it's hard to be the person, express the emotions that other people expect in a situation, in the face of adversity - you can't always help how you feel and the kind of person that moulds you into.

It's odd, that whilst on one hand there are a complexity of emotions going on, aspects of school this week have involved 'relationship building' and 'loving' in a more unusual sense than normal.

We were all given 10 red noses to sell to our children and although this sounds like it could be a very simple task, things never go smoothly! One class, not having had their noses delivered went on the hunt. I hadn't sold any of my noses at that point, so gave away my ten, in preparation for collecting the undelivered ten to sell to my children. It turned out that the missing 10 didn't actually exist, so I felt incredibly guilty, the next day, holding 5 £1 coins, from expectant comic relief children, searching the school for stray noses. In my frustration I ended up blurting out, to a number of staff (including the teacher of the class I gave the noses to) that whilst being 'nice' to one group of people, I had seriously let my own children down and it would be helpful if people could check if they had any spares. The comment I made wasn't particularly helpful, but made me feel better, as I was annoyed that the gestured hadn't been acknowledged.

The next morning, I was greeted by an unrelated member of staff and handed a £20 note. She explained that she had been in the staffroom and watched the events unfolding, feeling my frustrations that I had let my own children lose out, and receiving a flippant response. She went on to explain that if I could get hold of 20 noses, I should, using the cash and give them out to my children, alternatively, donate it to the Salvation Army. Normally, I would have argued the point and I don't know why I didn't, I simply hugged her! She was cross that people do 'nice' things and are taken for granted - "We can't all keep giving", she explained.

Later that week, a member of staff was taking a long time on the photocopier! I was trying to stay calm, and didn't really want to engage in conversation because I knew it would slow her down. However.....! Conversation did start up and I began asking more probing questions than normal. It turns out that on the days she does not work, being only part time, she cares for her Mum who has alzheimers disease. This, being close to my heart, broke down huge barriers between us. Our paths don't really cross and so I was glad that she was happy to tell me about her live 'outside' and was glad that I waited in the queue a little more calmly.

Finally, I also discovered, this week, that the partner of a member of staff is off work with pretty extreme depression and the teacher in question is having to deal with all the worry and concern that comes along with that as well as the (almost) weekly challenge of suicide attempts. It wasn't a time for giving advice, which I would have been completely unqualified to do, all I could do was listen. And that's what I did.

Building relationships is hard.....from whichever angle you are involved.

Building relationships - Love is kind

Today's reading, Sunday School and meeting all centered around the same theme: Love is Kind, using the story of The Good Samaritan as a basis.

We were challenged in the meeting, this morning, to have open eyes to see the needs around us and to actually do something, like the Samaritan. We focused on recognising the needs of others, opening our hearts towards the need and the effort involved in responding to this.

It's a huge challenge, acknowledging that if we do this, we must be prepared for it to interrupt our lives.

I am struggling at the moment to respond to the needs of others. And it hurts me to say. I am so wrapped up in myself and my own issues. I don't have the brainpower, emotional capacity or, dare I say, the will to deal with other's needs. I don't think it's my normal state of affairs, I hope it isn't, but it just seems to be going on for so long....I want out!

I am not oblivious to the people around me who love me and are putting themselves out for me, but this morning really reminded me that I don't have the strength to be that Good Samaritan, at the moment, and I really do need people looking after me.

I am interrupting people's lives.
Big style.
People are going out of their way for me.
Big style.
I need hugs.
BIG STYLE.

None of this I can do on my own and I just hope and pray that the people closest to me, who are being my 'Good Samaritan' do not get fed up of the constant rescuing and re-rescuing of the same, injured soul.

I promise that one day, hopefully in the not too distant future, I can return the kindness and love to you. But in the meantime, for the phone calls, the meals, the turning up on the door step, the complaining, the crying, the hugs, the honesty and the silence (Samaritans, you will know which of these apply to you!)

Thank you.....and please, don't leave me, yet!

How do I know if I am right?

I'd only been home about 15 minutes tonight, before I was challenged with this question:

"So why are you buying property down here?"

It's a question, that at the moment, I can't really answer and don't want to answer, yet is something that is taking over a large proportion of my life. I tried to explain that all there is for me at home is my family, which sounds funny because in 'ordinary' terms, that is a big enough reason to drop everything and go and yet, here I am in very 'unordinary' times, challenging the very decision that is shaping my life.

I recently put the wheels in motion to buy a flat which was a huge 'stepping out of the boat' moment for me. I really believed that and have recently shared with my house group the confirmation I believe that I received about this process, which is an amazing story.

Yet, now.....a matter of months later, after being so confident of being in God's plan, even though the future was uncertain (and scary), I find myself in another uncertain and scary place and cannot work out why I am so far away.

What if I was wrong and have jumped out of the boat the wrong side?

What if I am wasting precious moments 260miles away?

What if, what I believe to be the voice of God, isn't?

How am I supposed to know?

Life Restore

On Thursday, I had the pleasure of looking after my nephew for a few hours. Loving 'In the Night Garden', I wondered what entertaining features would be on the CBeebies website and proceeded to investigate.

After clicking the various options I was prompted to install a trustworthy program to allow it to all work properly. This I did.

Later on, I decided that as I wouldn't be a frequent 'In the Night Garden' website visitor, I may as well remove the installed program - more programs equals slower PC.

Having uninstalled the program, I attempted to open Internet Explorer - my access to the outside world, and was bleeped at very loudly and thrown a large error message. I couldn't believe it. It obviously had something to do with the action I had just carried out. Gutted.

At almost midnight, I decided that there wasn't a lot I could do, so went to bed, dreading the thought of not being able to sort it until I got home in a few days.

Fortunately, Dad being a PC World customer too, he had all the numbers I needed to call the people who 'can'.

The very helpful chappy on the other end of the phone very calmly explained that a 'system restore' - taking the computer back to where it was before the error, should solve the problem. I put the phone down, followed his instructions and committed to ringing back if it didn't work. Sitting on tenderhooks for the next few minute (which seemed like a lifetime), I watched as the computer flashed up various confusing (to me!) messages before turning itself off.

I was scared to turn the PC back on, waiting just a little longer - not that it was going to help, but somehow thinking it would!

It worked. Everything is back how it was and my PC is now functioning at a time before the problem occurred.

In the current climate, it got me to thinking. I sometimes wish life was like that. Something goes wrong, we take a wrong turn, we get ill and wouldn't it be good if we could press a little button and take ourselves back to before it all went pair shaped. A 'Self-restore' button would solve all of our problems.......wouldn't it?

I'm actually not convinced.

Part the waters

When i think im goin under, part the waters, Lord. When i feel the waves around me, calm the seas. When i cry for help, o hear me, Lord, and hold out your hand, touch my life, still the ragin storms in me.

Beginning of the end

I've had to install a new countdown, the other one is just taking too long to get anywhere!

I've decided as my moving out date is a definite, I'd like to countdown to that - also, it feels so imminent, whereas moving into my flat (which now, incidentally, is losing scaffolding!) isn't...yet!

We knew you would!

Today, I heard some unbelivable news, during a conversation with my Mum.


I was speechless, to the point of tears.

God sorts things out and just at the right time, lets us know.


But it's wierd because although we prayed and had faith that He would, we were still stunned to silence.


It made me wonder....if we have faith and therefore expect God to work in our lives, is there a danger that we'll lose sense of His awesomeness and grace, when He does?

Rebellion!

I sometimes wonder when it's going to be my turn to rebel. I'm not for one minute attempting to imply that I was the perfect teenager, I'm sure my family would soon see to that(!) but, I've never gone off the rails, never done the things that could be categorised as such.

I do sometimes wonder why. As with many Christian teenagers, I was the only one in my different groups of friends that went to church, so that immediately made me different. I then, of course, went through the whole 'not drinking' conversation a million times, occaisionally just using a feeble excuse like 'I don't feel like it', but usually, maybe stupidly, telling the truth - how boring!

It's not like I was a hermit. I went out. Stood, while everyone else did what they did. I went to the meals, parties, the sleepovers, went on school trips to London (living in the North, that was a big deal!), went abroad with the orchestra I was in and was often completely surounded, yet, I never made that choice.

As I grew older and went to uni, being a fresher was probably one of the best and yet hardest times. That's what freshers do, isn't it. Away from home. Independance. Rebel. Do what you like. Yet, because I made my stand from the beginning, there was never really the chance to undo that. Not that I really wanted to, but there's times when you are judged more so because of what you don't engage in, than what you do.

Now, I guess, it's less of an issue than it has ever been. I was involved in a discssion about morals this week and I commented that sometimes I think my 'morals standards' are too high. I was challenged to keep them as such - apparently being held in high esteem because of that.

Sometimes I think it would be brilliant to let go of everything, not even that I think I'd enjoy it, but just for the experience. But deep down I know that it just wouldn't be me.

I wonder how I made it through the other end, sometimes. I wonder how I've still got friends, I must drive them mad! I wonder if I made the right choices and whether there'll be a time when I don't.

And I pray for the children/people who are going through that today. Who are making a choice and standing out from the crowd. It's hard. In fact, no IT'S HARD. Harder being excluded and watching from the side lines. Harder, yet somehow, for me, right.

Thank you God, for keeping me strong. Please don't leave me now!

No offence to cat lovers but...

...this morning I rushed up the stairs to grab my shoes, next thing I know, there's a pair of eyes looking at me that truely SHOULDN'T have been there.

I screamed.

It ran.

I screamed more.

It ran more.

It hid under the rocking chair, in the living room, for the milliseconds it took me to fling myself at the door.

All this while I was on the phone to my completely bemused Mum.

It HAD to have entered through the tiny gap of my opened bedroom window.

Urgh. They are evil! And now I have to clean.

SMOOTH E,

This made me LOL!

United we stand

Friday afternoon and there were only a couple of children left after the school bell had rang for hometime. The stragglers were ambling off the playground with their parents. The Year 6 child, who was collecting her sibling from my class had waited until almost everyone had gone.

She asked politely if she could speak to me. Her younger sister stood a few week away. She explained that after an RE lesson, looking at an aspect of Islam, on Wednesday afternoon, a boy in ny class had gone up to her sister and said:

"Your religion is stupid. Your God is stupid. And we shouldn't have to learn about it."

The eloquant Year 6 child oozed with confidence as she continued to explain how these comments had not only upset her sister, but had clouded over the rest of the family.

I was destraught. I called 'my' child over and place my arms around both of them. It took a few deep breaths before I was able to speak. The girls were surprised as my eyes filled up and I apologised that should see me cry but that hopefully they would realise how upset I was too.

I looked 'my' child in the eye and asked her to recall the number of times I share in class that I am Christian. She smiled. I shared how hurt I would be if someone said those words to me, in fact, it felt like they had.

On Monday morning, the words Grace and Peace will be repeat lots of times before I approach the culprit.

Grace and Peace

This evening I have been packing some books in a box to take home, tomorrow. It's kind of sorting out and kind of making my actual moving day out of here as easy as possible (bearing in mind, I still may not have anywhere to live in the short term, so the less to store the better!)

I came across a sudoku book which I took to Holland for my Easter holiday 2008. I remembered why it was hiding at the back of my shelf as soon as I saw it.

I turned to the relevant page straight away and read back the brainstorm I had made, all those months ago.

I recalled the feelings and thoughts that prompted the thought-shower and the resulting conversations I had. You know, the kind of conversations you can't have with just anyone, the ones where they're relieved that you have actually come to terms with / verbalised / acknowledged the 'stuff' that they've known all along!

As I read through each point, I smiled at the realisation that a lot of it doesn't matter anymore. I could never have imagined in those moments that, a matter of months later, I would be walking on water and addressing the very notion that was scaring me (but I was too scared to admit!)

Each day is bringing a new conversation about the dawning days and with lashings of grace and peace (which does make me cross, at times!) I'm glad that I stopped lying to everyone else, finally admitted the truth and took action. But maybe that was what I was meant to do. God has funny ways of working.

The first of the lasts.

I've just paid the last lot of Council Tax we will ever need to pay for our house in Chelmsford.

God is at work.

My first Sunday at home over Christmas, I had the privilege of worshipping at two different Salvation Army Corps. In the morning, I went to Stockton Citadel with my sister, the Corps at which she now soldiers. For the evening service I returned to my home Corps, Eston, which was special for more than one reason. It's a couple of years, now, since I shared in a carol service at Eston, so that was nice, but more than that, it was the first time I stepped into their new building.

About a month ago, I blogged the news from the local newspaper, reporting the move from the Corps previous home to the new one. I was hugely disappointed to miss the closing meeting, particularly as my Grandad, as Number 1 on the Corp membership roll, was asked to lock the hall door for the very last time.

I'd heard lots of reports from my parents about the new building and seen pictures. They are very positive, not only from a practical level, but it seems that the attitude of the people at the Corps has grown more postive alongside.


This weekend, I am travelling home again to share in the official opening of the new hall.
It won't be anything as 'big' as the re-opening of the hall at Romford, that I recently experienced. And almost because of that, it's hard to know what to expect, but it is exciting. It's exciting that the small congregation who have faithfully followed for many, many years and who have prayed for as many years are beginning to see their Corps move forward and grow. It's exciting to see the way that God has and is working amongst the people there. It is exciting to recall the years that the people of Eston Corps discipled me and how it has shaped my life and faith.


More than anything, it's exciting that God is still at work at the Salvation Army in Eston.