Rest

What does it really mean to rest? I Googled it (because dictionaries are outside of the comfort of my snuggly blanket) and it defined rest as to cease work or movement in order to relax, sleep, or recover strength.

In case I haven't complained enough, I'd been fighting tonsillitis for over 3 weeks. One week after 20 days of antibiotics and I'm finally feeling more normal again. Everyone told me I should rest so over Christmas I took it really easy. I did very little. I finished antibiotics and all the symptoms reappeared within 24hours. Highly inconvenient. I feel like I've been sleeping more than I've been awake. Not for one moment though do I feel like I've had any sort of break. 

The other week was a bit random. My boss text me on Monday night inviting me to stay for the rest of the week to get a bit of a break. I was hesitant at first. How on earth could staying with my boss, her husband and their 2 small children possibly be considered a break, let alone restful? See above definition; none of it says "go spend a week with children who play ukuleles and sing Let It Go at 6.45am on your day off" (yes, that is *exactly* how I was woken up one morning) and yet, for some bizarre reason, this is exactly what I needed. 

No, I am still not 100% healthy. Yes, I still feel tired. But I feel relaxed and I feel like my strength is returning. I have certainly not ceased work nor movement. Am I not resting? Am I changing the definition of rest? Or did it not encompass everything in the first place? 

For me, I feel most rested when I'm content. My joy comes from spending time comfortably with people, seeing other people laugh and smile, agreeing to last minute trips to the zoo, just feeling a part of something. According to the dictionary, I'm doing this whole rest thing wrong, but I know what restores my strength and I'm going to keep doing that.

The Lord replied, "My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest" -Exodus 33:14

OneWord 365 2018

Over Christmas, as I was drifting off to sleep, I had a sudden thought: "oh no, I haven't even begun to think of my word for next year!" As soon as I finished my sentence the word popped in to my head. The speed of my response to the initial thought made me hesitant. How can a word come so freely when it hasn't even been on my mind. That was nearly a week ago but it took until yesterday for me to truly let the word loose in my thoughts. I typed in out but I didn't want to own it. It felt dull, plain, not very me. I wanted something exciting, challenging, new.

I wandered Port Meadow this morning, as has become my new year custom. I didn't walk my usual route, I wanted to see the ponies that live on the meadow so I went away from the river. As I walked and got closer to the ponies, I decided that I'd gotten close enough and I was going to head for home. That's when I heard the word again...

Stay

...and I realised it's the word I need this year. I'm easily distracted. I need people around me to prompt me when I start to stray from my path. I settle for enough and go elsewhere.

Stay seems such an unexciting word. I was hoping for "adventure" or "dream" or "growth". It's such an ambiguous word when you think about it. Do I stay a little longer in God's presence each day, stay in one place and make no progress, dwell in the good moments, soak up all that is around me, stay put where I live? What is it?

I cannot deny, it also has me wondering- what is going to distract me this year? Why do I need to stay? Is there something ahead that will totally ruin my faith? Sometimes I feel like I'm walking a tightrope and a slight wobble will have me plummeting to the darkness below. This year doesn't feel like that.

I expect challenges as a part of my Christian journey and I cannot plan ahead. All I can know if that Jesus is my Rock, my firm foundation that will keep me on this path through everything.

So here I am. This is the first year I've been excited for the year ahead and not thrown by the whole "new year, new me" thing. It's 2018 and I'm gonna stay a little longer.

Reflections

In the process of going about writing my annual "look back at the year" blog, I discovered a draft from a month ago titled "Reflections". I'd not actually written anything in the post and now have no idea what was actually going through my mind when I thought about that post. Reflections seems an apt titled for my thoughts on the past year though, so I'm going to run with that.

Initially I considered doing a month-by-month description of this year. That's quite long-winded, and in case you didn't guess from the above paragraph, my memory is terrible. I, then, considered reading last year's blog post about my goals for 2017 and reviewing those, but that would just be documenting my failures. I'm not quite sure instead what form this post will take. I'm just going to write and see what happens.

My word for 2017 was speak. A terrifying word.

Here's what I learnt when I speak.

*I have a voice
*People listen
*I am capable
*I am making a difference

Here's what I learnt when I listen.

*I'm trusted
*I'm safe
*I am valued

Here's what I learnt when I let God speak.

*joy
*peace
*happiness
*contentment
*love

Here's what I learnt when I listen to God.

*God's got this
*I am right where I'm meant to be

This year has been a big year. My life has changed unimaginably. I started the year expecting to be in the full time role of the job I was already doing part time. I'd be at the same church. I'd have the same colleagues. I'd continue to deny the longing to not be in an office job. I'd be snuggling the same children once a week and thanking God for the one block of time where I could be me. I'd be battling my brain forever. Staying safe in my comfort zone.

I'm in another part time role, in a new church with brand new colleagues. I don't have a proper office job. I'm happier than I was. I've bounced back from mental health lapses quickly. I'm learning my passions. Finding my heart for children to know Jesus in new ways. Pushing myself further and further out of my comfort zone.

I wouldn't have gotten to where I am now staying still in my safe place. I don't know where I would have been if I hadn't stopped on that Wednesday morning to listen to what God was speaking so clearly.

I'm not ending 2017 in a place of regret or dread. This is the first year I feel hope in a tangible way. More so than ever before. This year hasn't been easy, please don't read this post as that. I don't want to spend time dwelling on the bad stuff any more.

I'm so excited for more. Come at me 2018.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence,  and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Words can be damaging...

Recently I've had some many blog post ideas, but the second I sit down and start typing my head goes "NO. You absolutely cannot write about this" and so I give up. Which would be fine if this only went for blogging. However it's fallen in to every part of life.

No. You cannot write this job application.

No. You cannot make this food.

No. You cannot wear this outfit.

No. You cannot go to that event.

It's taken me a while to work out why suddenly my head is telling me no to everything. Someone recently told me "you're better than X" (if I specified what X actually is (not a person) it would take all but 3 seconds to work out who said it and what about). In some cases, this would be encouraging, reminding me I am worth much more. Alas, in this case it minimised something that I had put my heart and soul in to for nearly a year and suddenly I began to question my value. Was this thing, that I worked so hard at just X and nothing more?

Rationally I know the answer is no. I can list my achievements and know full well it was much more. But that bit of my brain that says that I'm no good, will never amount to anything and certainly need to stop thinking I've ever been good at anything to start with. 

With changes in life, with time to stop and appreciate the now, to invest in neglected relationships, I forgot to be on my guard about what is really going on in my head. In the midst of the joy of spending time with housemates and friends, I've had several rejections from jobs I've applied to. On their own that isn't anything significant, but at night or when I'm on my own, the thoughts are returning full-force. I'm not good enough. I exist to make other people happy but I deserve nothing. 

Recently I've told several people parts of my story I'd long buried or believed insignificant but those thoughts are deafening in times of unemployment "you'd be better off on benefits" and "you'll never really function in society". Things said without second thought over 4 years ago now and yet they still haunt me. 4 years ago I was told to give up on my dream of nursing. While I don't want to return to nursing, my head doesn't care. My brain relishes reminding me of my failure. You'll never be valuable. Stop trying. Give up on every dream, mental illness has already taken it. 

And so here I am. Trying my hardest to find some new job. I know my work does not define me, but in the quiet of unemployment my head has free reign and I need something to prove it wrong again. I'm clinging on with my fingertips. Appreciating every little thing that comes my way for now but longing for something more permanent. To prove I can and I will. Depression may destroy bits of each day, but I will not let it destroy my life again. In the meantime, any kind words sent my way would be appreciated. 

Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.

-Ephesians 4:29

Words are powerful

I titled this post over a month ago and yet didn't really know where I was going to go with it. I considered all the negative words that have been spoken over me; words that still, on the worst days, float around my head taunting me and telling me that the people who spoke them were right. Nowadays, I can choose whether I listen or not, but back then they were the only things being spoken in to my life.

At the start of this past week, things I had hoped for work-wise fell through (2 jobs, 1 voluntary thing). In 48 hours I had everything that was making this awkward transition period easier taken away from me. Getting one rejection message is hard at any time. Getting 3 in 2 days is really really rubbish. And yet, that is exactly what happened.

I'd be lying if I said I am 100% ok after that. And I'd also be lying if I said I was impeccable company to have around on Wednesday. I was tired and grumpy and all-round miserable. However I am taking the news about a billion times better than I would have done 6 months ago.

Last weekend was my church's weekend away. I spent 90% of the time sobbing and convincing myself everyone hated me. But equally in the other 10% of the time (mainly in the car to and from the weekend, but not exclusively) I had some really important conversations with people who actually mean quite a lot to me. 

One of those people I was talking to about having jobs lined up and that all would be ok. They shot back a comment about "needing to find me something more permanent". It startled me but got me thinking.

With another I was discussing what I really wanted in a job (very little actually matched with what I had planned) and where I thought my future was leading. 

The final one we just talked about lots of things in the past and future but as we talked I was making decisions in my mind. 

Mainly though the whole weekend God was speaking. He gave me a picture at one point, of a dark house with 2 lights still on. Then the lights switched off and He said "you're done here now". And as I started to type this blog, I realised that partly relates to the 2 job things. They were in one line of work that I love but don't want to do forever. It's about other stuff too, but it makes sense. 

I'd also already prayed about the two jobs and come to the conclusion they weren't the right thing. The jobs falling through wasn't a surprise in any way by the time the messages came through. It was hard but God had been telling me there's something better. Sometimes God speaks to me directly, sometimes He uses other people. Either way, this weekend I gave Him space to speak. 

I could really easily let the voices from years ago that tell me I'm not good enough speak louder. I could let them convince me that I'm worthless and will never be a truly functioning member of society. Or I could let the affirming voices of those who surround me now telling me they want me to have stability and that there so much more to life that I need to experience. 

I know who I'm choosing to listen to. Negative words might be powerful, but positive words are life giving and I'm choosing to cling tightly to those because I fully trust that God has amazing things in store for me. 

OneWord 365 2017

Speak.

This word did not come easily. There must have been maybe 20 other words I thought about but none were right. So just after Christmas, I took myself on a prayer walk. Within 30 seconds, I had my word. Speak. Then ensued 15 minutes of arguing with God because I absolutely did not want this word. Speak. What am I meant to do with this?! Brave was scary, can I not have an easier word this year? Please, anything is better than speak. Then God gave me the verse to go with it. A very wildcard verse to appear in my head (especially as at that moment, I was not listening particularly well!)

"Speak, for your servant is listening" 1 Samuel 3:10 when God is talking to Samuel but he thinks it is Eli calling him. Samuel eagerly responds to Eli saying "Here I am". Eventually Eli realises God is speaking and tells Samuel to respond with this sentence when God calls to him again. Samuel responds and God tells him big things.

Once I'd got over the fact I cannot change my word for 2017, I started to think. I started to write this post in my head as I walked and so many things came to me that are linked to this word.

Firstly, back in autumn 2015 I ventured in to the world of practicing the discipline of submission. I was great at it for a term, and then the assignment was done and I stopped. I had a negativity jar and was watching my speech- was what I said True, Helpful, Inspiring, Necessary, Kind? "From out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks" (Luke 6:45). Back to moderating what I say and knowing when to stay silent. Challenge number 1.

Secondly, being brave has involved lots of speaking out about things that have happened or that I'm going through. I can be brave with words on a page. Can I be brave with my voice? I can't leave bravery behind in 2017 so that's challenge number 2. Being brave and speaking out more, especially when it feels hardest.

Finally, the real heart of 1 Samuel 3:10. Being prepared for God to speak. In return I am listening. Communication is not a one-sided thing. We don't need to speak for a conversation to happen. But like Samuel, I need to speak in order to show that I'm ready to listen to God. Honestly, in the last 4 months I can count on my hands how many times I've prayed, and on one hand the amount of times I've heard from God. That's hard to admit, but it is true. I'm coming from a place of conversation breakdown with God and it needs to change. Speak holds so emotions for me. It's scary; God might say something I do not want to hear, I might feel not ready to hear what He has to say. I might misunderstand what He is saying. All these things could go wrong. But what about all the things that could go right?!

And with this is the overall challenge for my year: giving God time to speak to me, truly listening to what He has to say, letting Him guide me in life further. This year once again holds so many uncertainties. But of one thing I am completely sure. God wont ever leave me alone in it. He is my hope and my anchor, my solid Rock.

I'm sure more will unfold over the year but for now these are the starting blocks.

So here it goes...
Speak, for your servant is listening. 

We have hope.

A long winded introduction as to why this post is only appearing now: 

When I was younger, I'd go on a camp in the summer or at Easter and it would be awesome, then I would come home and fall in to a horrid depression. We'd call it post-camp blues but I knew I felt it more intensely than others. I never quite knew what to do to cope through this time. No-one wanted to talk about camp after it was done. Apparently it's different when you go on mission. People want to talk about a mission trip for a while and it isn't until people stop asking that the struggle sets in. 

This past week hasn't been easy. My mental health is rapidly falling off the cliff that I walk along the edge of on a regular basis. So maybe, just maybe, this might help me cling on a bit and remind me of the hope I learnt of while away. 

End of disclaimer ;)

Lisieux

The first week in Normandy was hard, like insanely hard. My anxiety was at an all-time high despite taking medication. It was scary. I could not shake this anxiety and it is my overriding memory of the whole week. There were moments of joy: hanging out with the team every night, pastries for breakfast, going to see the city, praying for the city at 7.30am in front of the basilica (watching the sun rise, seeing the beautiful morning sky, sharing communion), the women's breakfast, getting really powerful words spoken to me that started a change, helping to set up a 24/7 prayer room and praying in it, sharing a room with all the girls, giving out Bibles on a university campus in Caen. Plenty of amazing things and yet, I remember so clearly the weight of oppression I felt the entire week. 

What did I learn from that week though? Perseverance. I begged most nights to be allowed to go home, to just not have to do the things I'd been asked to do, to just give up. And yet, I didn't leave. I didn't quite do everything as planned, but I stayed. That was my biggest achievement. Not giving up. When things get hard I run in the opposite direction, I have no desire to stay and see if things get better; I have no control over the outcome so it's safer to run because I know what happens then. But I stayed. More than anything, I learnt how much others love me, and that God puts me in places for a reason. If I'd not gone, I would never have been told that a tunnel ends eventually, that God wants to turn me around significantly, that I shouldn't just hear of God's provision for others but believe it for myself too. If I'd have left, I wouldn't have heard a testimony that's changed my perspective so significantly. I wouldn't have gone to Paris and I wouldn't have gone to Madrid. Hold on, pain ends. 

Paris

Paris was 100% about being brave in a way I never imagined. I never thought a city could trigger memories from a different city because of an association. I never thought that I'd tell anyone that part of my story (it was a silly teenage mistake, you see) or that it'd be relevant in my life any more. But it was and I had to talk. 

I love Paris- the language, atmosphere, places to see. I spent time in my European happy place (the steps in front of the Sacre Coeur if you're wondering) and I spent time rocking back and forth in a corner of a church in absolute fear. But I was brave. I wouldn't have got to my happy place if I hadn't fought the thoughts. I wouldn't have made beautiful new memories if I hadn't told anyone why it was so flipping hard for me to be in that city. I learnt the importance of being surrounded by people you can trust that love you no matter what your mental state. I learnt the value of being hugged tight like nothing else exists. I remembered the need to persevere even when your world feels like it's falling apart because you just might be surprised. 

Madrid

And after many, many hours in the airport we arrived in Madrid. I'm not sure I'm about to do this justice, but I will try. My life has been forever changed by spending 6 days in Betel. The women we stayed with welcomed us with open arms (quite literally) and loved us from the minute they met us. Nothing was too much trouble for them. The language barrier didn't matter, we're all part of God's family and that's what mattered most. 

I spent several days working in the kitchen. It was comforting, familiar. I'm thankful for the opportunity to do something that was safe because it meant the "ohmygosh I speak no Spanish" was infinitely less scary. I got to hear the stories of the 2 women I worked with (yay for broken English!) and I shared a little bit of mine. On the 2nd full day we got to go out with the evangelism team to the slum. It was weird. I put up my mental wall and just accepted it. I had to protect others. I don't think I'll ever be able to totally recall what I saw that day- people desperate for drugs that they couldn't care who was watching when they injected, people asking to buy us girls as slaves, a guy who said he was too bad for God, another who was completely blind to where this habit would lead him. We were surrounded by darkness, and yet, for me not one bit of what I saw surprised me. What actually overwhelmed me was just how much God had redeemed those at Betel; how much love He's shown them and brought them out from utter destruction to a much more amazing way of life. And they praise God for it. Continually. I'll admit I don't believe that God can ever do that much in my life- how could he? I'm such an average person, why make me in to something better? Well that was my thought process before Betel anyway. 

As the week went on I got to know one of the women more. By Saturday it made sense to share my testimony completely with her. The wisdom with which she spoke in to my life after that, the things that she shared to encourage me. I was taken aback. This woman who had known me less than a week knew exactly what I needed to hear. Only God could have told her to say some of those things. It was an amazing blessing to be able to have that conversation with her. I'd led the devotional time a couple of days previously on Isaiah 43:1-7 and she knew how much I needed to hear what I'd said to them for myself. She even said to me that in a few years time I'll make an amazing nurse again, that she can see me doing that. For the first time since 2012 I didn't recoil at this suggestion. That's big. 

On the final morning the house leader asked to speak to me. She sat me down and told me her testimony. I am the only one of the group to have heard it and that will forever be a privilege. She told me she wanted to get close to me at the start of the week but I built a wall and wouldn't budge. I needed to hear her story, God made it happen. I truly am overwhelmed by God's healing power, His desire to redeem, His overflowing love for anyone who knows him. That I may not have been addicted to drugs, but I have been addicted to other things, I have looked for my identity and value in the world, I have neglected God while searching for something to fill the emptiness I've felt.  

The mission trip gave me hope like I've never had before. A very real idea of hope. I don't need to be fixed by the time I turned 25. I haven't missed my chance. I am battling a different addiction but one that I can still be healed from. It doesn't have to be instant. I've learnt the power of telling my story. That it can be an encouragement even before it has reached a conclusion. That I am a work in progress, but it's God doing the work. I don't need to be fixed before I go to Him. And that He is the solid foundation on which I need to stand. I can't take good care of others until I've taken care of myself. But there is always more of God to help me, I'm never doing this on my own strength. I've seen things I never thought I'd see, I've heard stories I never imagined I'd hear and because of this I have hope. There are better things to come for everyone reading this, and for myself. 

Don't just read stories of hope, believe it is possible for yourself.

We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf.

Hebrews 6:19-20

Intern Mission

I have so many things I want to say about our mission trip. I feel like the best way to do this is with one blog talking about what we did and then a couple about what I learnt. Because while we all did the same things, everyone got something different out of it. It wouldn't be fair to add my own things in to an overall mission trip post.

So here it goes.

Lisieux

We left Oxford on a very sunny Tuesday morning. The drive to Folkestone was relatively uneventful. Just some silly comments like "are we in Normandy?" and "this smells pink!" After a slight "we're probably too big to fit under this barrier" drama and a "is that France?" moment we boarded the Eurotunnel.

In standard tourist fashion the first thing we did on arrival in France was go to McDonald's...it seems to be a rule that when you enter a new country you must find an American chain and enter immediately? Ah well, it was our opportunity to catch up with the other car and make sure everyone was ok still. And so began our adventure to Lisieux.

Arriving in Lisieux early evening, we were greeted by our mission partners, Sena and Jane, and then served dinner with some members of the church. The week then becomes a bit of a blur of hard work, tears (mostly on my part!), laughter and pastries/bread. We met the vicar of the church, worked a bit in the church cafe (running children's activities) and attended church services. We spent a day in Caen- seeing important places in Normandy history and then gave out New Testaments with the Gideons at various university campuses- they don't often allow non-Gideons to do this so it was a good experience for all of us (but definitely not a skill of mine!).  A couple of us set up a 24/7 prayer space which was just so amazing in so many ways and a joy to watch come together. Two of the interns preached at key services. It was a pleasure to see them minister so powerfully. The girls attended the women's breakfast which was just wonderful. We got up at stupid o'clock on Easter Sunday to go and pray for the city at the basilica- for me this was a massive highlight. Sunrise and prayer and a pretty place? Winning!

Our free time was overflowing with good conversation, good food, sneaky explorations of town, amusing coffee shops, laughter and puppets. The building was constantly filled with joy, that's undeniable.

Paris

Stage 2 of our mission took us to Paris. In case you've never experienced French public transport on a bank holiday, you're missing nothing. We left Lisieux almost an hour late after they insisted we arrived an hour early to the station. Joy. Arriving in Paris later than planned, we were met by Francois (another mission partner!) and his adorable son. We hopped on the Metro and went straight to the church to be fed lunch! Yay food! And then we had the delight of exploring Paris for the afternoon. Some of us spent time doing tourist things, some of us spent more time exploring side streets and chilling in a cafe. We got back together for the evening and, after dinner, spent some time in prayer and worship in La Résurrection. It was such a powerful time praying for the future of the church and Francois and Gosia. God was very definitely there with us. 

The morning of our second day in Paris was spent doing some more sightseeing. The afternoon was spent trying not to go absolutely crazy in CDG airport- Tom gave up with real answers and resorted to names of dinosaurs to answer questions instead. But we prayed at the gate and suddenly we were boarding the plane and getting a free snack once in the air.

Madrid

And so stage 3 of mission began at a very late hour when we arrived in Madrid airport.

I'd never heard of Betel until we were told that was where we were headed on mission. I'd done a bit of asking around and found some other people who had been there. Betel is a church planting organisation that just so happens to flourish in addiction communities- hence why it is mostly known for its rehabilitation programmes. I don't think I could ever explain it well enough so check out http://betelinternational.org/ for actual information.

From what I gather the guys spent the week doing a bit of evangelism, manual labour, and some things in the shops and played with puppies on the farm. I'd tell you more but I got distracted with pictures of puppies so didn't actually listen to what they did. I can, however, tell you how the girls spent their week.

After arriving the girls house we were presented with dinner- at around midnight. We were incredibly blessed to have two translators (thank God for Maria and Mara!) for our stay so in our dazed and confused state that first night we at least knew sort of what was going on! The next morning was an experience. Woken by the light being switched on at 7am, expected to be at breakfast by 7.30am. You eat breakfast in under 5 minutes, then have 10 minutes to sort yourself out before devotional. Once devotional is done, you get everything ready and get yourself in the vans ready to go to work. I am a morning person but even this was a whirlwind for me! Each day we were sent to their thrift shops or the kitchen or cleaning or the food bank or furniture collection- each girl is given a different task each day. I spent a couple of days in the kitchen (absolute bliss!), a day cleaning and an afternoon in a thrift shop. We had a bit of tourist time on Sunday afternoon- chaotic but good to see a bit of the city!

We had half a day with the evangelism team too. Going out in to the shanty town of Madrid- the heart of the drug addiction and prostitution community. Someone described it as "the waiting room for Hell" and in some ways, yes it is. To be stood there giving out food and hot chocolate, with people buying, selling and taking drugs all around us, and the government giving out clean needles, was an experience I won't forget. While I've not been particularly sheltered from the realities of this world, it still shocked me. I don't think I could ever put in to words really what happened in our time spent there. The conversations that were translated for us, the observations the pastors made, the things each of us saw or were protected from seeing.

We had several church services while there. Getting to hear intern testimonies and Tom preach (while Maria diligently translated) was just great. And because of Maria and Mara, we got to really invest in the women we were staying with- we could hear their stories and share our own. A couple of us lead devotionals, Jemima lead worship and we all spent our final morning devotional with the women praying for them. I can't speak for the other girls, but I know God spoke powerfully through some of the women to me and He was able to do the same through me to some of them too.

We've built relationships we never thought we would in such a short space of time, had our eyes opened to things just a few short hours away, and most importantly we've seen God work in every situation- even ones other deem hopeless. It was hard to say goodbye to everyone at different points in the trip- even Matthew and Kristians who drove us around Normandy for a couple of days. Every goodbye has been different but each filled with love and peace knowing God is still there with each person. We've been pushed out of comfort zones, experienced language barriers, not had very much introvert time, and eaten more food than we could have imagined (no Betel- we do not need to eat a minimum of 4 times a day!). Most importantly, God has been there every step of the way- through the highs and the lows, the tears and the laughter.

I don't actually think I could ever do this trip justice with my words, but I've tried and that will have to do.

God is good.

Quiet Voice, Loud Mind

I realise I've been quiet recently and not just on this blog. I use Facebook a lot less, I tweet not as often and I don't often have fun things to post on Instagram. While typing this I realised I've become quieter in life too. I'm busier, sure, but I'm withdrawing more and spending more time alone. While, in some capacity, this is good because it's so hard to get time alone when you live with so many others, it also isn't good for me.

I  guess what I really need to say is things aren't great in my life right now. The struggles of being poorly over Christmas haven't really gone away and now I'm struggling intensely in every aspect of life. Getting out of bed some days is a challenge, let alone the act of getting out of pjs and in to clothes. I'm not feeding myself appropriately nor am I behaving sensibly around food when I am eating. I'm getting angry at little things. I've had moments of trying to find relief in self harm. I cry a lot more than I don't. I'm losing weight and people are noticing. I have a constant weight on my shoulders. I'm back in therapy that I can't really afford. I'm not communicating with friends as I should. The thought of the future has left me wanting to die.

And yet, here I am. In the last 10 days I have co-ordinated catering at 2 events, facilitated prayer spaces for an all-age service, led endless children's activities and prayer meetings, babysat and many other things. I am still breathing. I haven't hurt myself this week. I've reached out to people in a way I haven't in a very long time. I'm in a total daze and physically exhausted but I'm alive and that is what is important. I've given out so so much this weekend for this morning, and the second the service started I knew everything we'd done was right. I was filled afresh and totally blessed by everything that happened.

It's not been easy these past couple of weeks. I went to an amazing children's leaders conference and then had a brilliant 4 day holiday to Budapest. I didn't take care of myself in any of that time and that's what has left me in this muddle now. I've pushed my body to its limits. Mentally I'd love to go to sleep and never wake up. However I've never felt so loved and valued by people around me.

This week I had a really raw, honest, vulnerable conversation with a pastor in a coffee shop. Someone I never imagined I'd share my story with. If that seemed unlikely, her sharing her story in return wasn't even on my radar, but she did and I felt honoured. It's been so long since anyone has told me their story, mainly because they hear a little bit about me and don't want to burden me. That didn't happen and it's changed things. People trust me still. I'm not too broken to ever be a support for others. It gave me hope in a way I haven't had in a long time. I matter to other people and stories should be shared. Hearing stories of experience gives inspiration and hope in a way that nothing else can quite manage.

While we're on mission I have to give a 7 minute evangelistic talk. Stories should be shared. I know what I need to talk about. I have to be brave. I have strength to do this because God has lined up so many people recently to encourage me all over again. Today I am thankful, because my voice may be quiet, my mind may be loud, but God is loudest of all and that's exactly all I need.


The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. 
Lamentations 3:22-23

Creativity

If we haven't had this discussion before, let's start with this well-known fact about me: I am not artistic. I even can't draw a stick man without it going wrong. I don't do art. With that in mind, let's continue.

We were sent on an Art Retreat on Monday. As you can imagine I was not looking forward to this, The anxiety about the whole thing was eased slightly by the fact I knew the woman running the day and she is a wonderful person so if it all felt too much I knew she was a safe person. So at 8.30am we left our house and wandered towards where the retreat was going to be. I knew where I was going so was less worried, except for the fact it was right by my old uni building; the building in which I experienced some of the worst moments of my mental health. Oh joy. Also the building in which we had an art therapy group session as part of our "therapeutic intervention" module; that ended in an absolute meltdown for me. And so we got to the place of our retreat- in the shadow of all these horrific triggering memories for me. Definitely was not meant to be a good day for me.

Anyway, we got there. And we started by describing pictures and spending time alone with God asking him what He wanted to say to us that morning. Then we started to draw random lines with our non-dominant hands. This sounds ridiculous, right? Well actually it changes the part of your brain that you use to create and you see things differently and have different ideas. It's pretty cool, and useful for when you have a complete mind blank! Cue pages of us scribbling.

After a quick cup of coffee we got to play with paint! YAY! I may not be any good with paint but I do love a good bit of mess! With no brushes in sight, just our hands and some old credit cards and a couple of little wooden sticks, some people donned gloves. Not me though, I love getting stuck in- is it any wonder I work with children? I just hope when I have my own children I don't suddenly become averse to mess and am still able to let them get covered in paint! Anyway, I picked up a credit card, dipped it in yellow paint and went from there.  Having had such a bad start to my day, my main thought was "sunshine makes me happy, cling on to the sunshine, it'll get better, just remember the sunshine".

Somehow, this was the result! We critiqued each others' work once we'd finished. Given my superficial thought process, I was amazed anyone chose to say anything about this let alone that it would be anything deep. To my surprise the person said that the sun was like Jesus right in the middle of the page, because He is the light and that the darker bits around were smaller than the light. While I considered this briefly, my thought process about it remains "I like sunshine, It makes me happy" However I cannot tell people what to get from my work, it can be what they need. 

My next bit of art will not feature because the thought process behind that was even more pathetic: "I like pink and I like turquoise. YAY!". 

Finally, as a whole group,our task for the afternoon was to create one picture that we all contributed a bit too. Ten canvases, one picture. Somehow we created this masterpiece...

Yup, and you wouldn't even know which square Little Miss "I have zero artistic ability" did ;) However if you're really curious, it's the top middle one! Not a bad effort, eh?! A friend doing a PhD in Art told me she liked the brush strokes- we didn't have any brushes all day so this made me giggle a lot! 

So it turns out I have a bit of an artistic ability after all. In actual fact, if you were to ask me the wrong question, I would tell you I'm not even creative. That's a lie. I love craft. I love making things. The amount of crochet I have done this past week is crazy. But my lack of belief in my ability goes way back to my thoughts of needing to be good enough- I don't often have a grey area in life so if I'm not perfect at art, I have no skill whatsoever. 

Just because I'm not particularly good at art doesn't mean I am not creative in other ways. I can write (I think!), I can crochet, I can make things on a pottery wheel. We're taught from such a young age that if you can't do things like painting and drawing then you have no artistic skill but at 25, I'm learning that actually that isn't the be all and end all of creativity.

We have no idea if God can paint, however He is creative. Every single on of us has been created by Him and we are all unique. We are all one of God's masterpieces. That's pretty exciting! I was considering this on my walk earlier. God chose every single one of us to have our exact characteristics; our appearance, skills, strengths and weaknesses. None of us have these things by mistake. And that's something I really needed to work out for myself. I may not have been gifted with decent artistic ability but I have other skills; I can listen well, I can talk about my experiences using words, I can appreciate pretty things, I love working with children, I can crochet, I'm willing to try things. There's a whole host of things I'm sure I haven't worked out yet either. Just because the majority of my art work looks like it was done by a child, doesn't mean I'm a reject in God's eyes. He gave me different skills to make me unique and that's ok. He chose to make me just as I am. I need to remember that.

But now, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand. Isaiah 64:8

Be still.

There's a lot going on currently in my life. In some ways January flew past; so much happening, so many things to do, very little time to do it. On the other hand, it has felt like the longest month and I've been so desperate for February to arrive.

In all this I've had some time to reflect on what God was teaching me this time last year and what I need to remember for this year. Last January I had a breakdown. I ended up signed off sick for 2 months, in which time I was bullied in to resigning from my job. It was a horrific period of my life. And yet I learnt so much; about myself, about life and about God.

2016 started well; I was constantly busy, seeing so many friends and reconnecting with old friends, working extra hours, staying up later socialising with my housemates. Life is not sustainable  for mewhen I insist on doing everything and constantly say yes and so 2 weeks ago this "really positive start to 2016" backfired and in some capacity, mentally, I am in the same state I was 12 months ago. But this time I'm reminded of the major lesson I learnt last year. 

To slow down, take time and enjoy the moment.

A housemate recently commented that as a house we have slowed down. She said it like it wasn't the best thing. For me, it's one of the best things. We linger longer over dinner, don't need to be talking constantly, can just sit with each other without needing to be doing the same thing. It's comfortable and it leaves me feeling content. 

Several of my housemates are thinking about what to do once the internship ends. For me, this term is not about what is coming next. Last term was about settling in to a new routine, next term is about the future. This term is about simply enjoying things. I don't need to be worrying about what's next; where I'll live, what I'll be doing, who will still be in my life. God's got that sorted and I'm sure he'll prompt me when the time is right to start looking at those things. He did with the internship and He will again- when I trust Him (something I'm not doing too well at lately). 

When I got happy and busy I forgot about enjoying the little things. I haven't been sleeping well, but that means I've been waking up early and getting to see the sunrise: my favourite time of day. I've used my car a lot recently which means time to walk outside and through parks. I have a standing coffee date with my closest friend which means time to just people watch in the coffee shop while I wait for her. I need to take these moments. I need to grab on to them and appreciate them. I need to embrace the little moments of stillness and stop trying to fill them with more things. 

I'm surrounded by people who rush and feel like time is running away. That's not me. I learnt the hard way that I need to take time to rest, be still, be present in this moment and this moment alone. I don't want that reminder forced on me again. In teaching this week, the guy was saying "look at the birds" and "look at the flowers" are not mere suggestions in the Bible, they're instructions. This hit home. I've been ignoring the world around me. I've not been looking at the birds or the flowers, I've been looking at the floor. There's a statistic somewhere saying that you're more likely to experience mental health problems the further you live from green space. But for me, I live near green space but don't acknowledge it.

And in all of this I have neglected God. Things got too busy, everything was going really well and I stopped making real time for Him. My head was no longer full of praise, nor was it thinking of any requests. I may have been spot on in having quiet time every single day, but I wasn't making space for God in it. It's been all about getting it done to keep the routine in place and then going back to life. This isn't unusual for people who work in the church- God becomes work and business-like. He isn't 'living', more just a name on a page and a thing to pray to occasionally. I guess I'm writing this to show I'm human and to acknowledge my weakness. Something clicked in my head today and I don't want it to be like that. I want to acknowledge God in the small and the big. In the day to day and the unexpected. I need to get back to God. He has been so faithful in everything, so why do I run when I need Him most?

So, this is me saying I am here. I am in this moment. I am not in tomorrow, I am not in a week's time, or a month's time or a year's time. I am here now. And this is where I will be; in this moment, looking at everything around me; everything God has put in my life for a reason. I need to be still long enough to let Him speak. 

The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still
Exodus 14:14

Peace

I find peace such an interesting concept. We pray for peace for ourselves, for others, for nations, for the whole world; in situations, in circumstances, in general. We offer each other a sign of the peace on a Sunday. We dream of the day we will see peace. People campaign for peace. It's unavoidable. Is it an internal or external thing though? Do people actually understand what peace is or what it is to be peaceful? I certainly don't think I do. 

The dictionary defines peace as "freedom from disturbance". I like that. Disturbance is generalised. Sometimes I hate when things aren't specific. This is not one of those times. There are some (rare!) days when I feel like my life is sorted and going in the right direction. I could say I feel at peace on those days; but I think I much more often say "I feel stable and where I should be right now".

This evening I was told by a friend that I just seem so peaceful at the moment, that I give off this unreal sense of peace to everyone else. This isn't the first time I've been told this but is the first time for a long time and interestingly I'm told it the most when my brain is in complete turmoil. More than anything I really wish I could feel this. Currently I have 50 billion thoughts (actually an even-ish mix of positive and negative) floating around my head. One of them is "x thinks I seem really peaceful" but most of them are restless "must be doing something else" or "I'm failing at this, that and the other". It's exhausting. And yet somewhere, deep down there must be peace, because somehow it is overflowing from me and out over others. Back in the summer I was given a picture of being full of deep wells of peace, I guess they've started to overflow again.

I have to admit though, today I got angry. Someone suggested it was a blessing that I'm radiating peace to others despite how I'm feeling, but I want that peace for me! I want to feel calm, but my head says no. I want to just know that unbelievable peace that God is giving others through me. I know I'm being selfish but I'm exhausted and I just don't feel like I can give out any more. I let people in today. I started to break down that barrier that's keeping people away from the craziness of my mind and let them in. It's hard, and I'm scared once again that the "I'm crazy, avoid me at all costs" banner is flashing brightly but it's not fair to keep them out. Maybe I've put the barrier around myself too which is keeping the peace away. Who knows? Only time will tell. I need to share some of the peace, even when I'm not feeling it myself. 

I was going to finish with Philippians 4:7, but something in the back of my mind was telling me there was a different verse I needed. One that tells me I have to do something in order to feel God's peace. I have to let it in. My prayer for tonight is that my heart is soft and ready to let the peace in. 

And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. 
Colossians 3:15

One Week...

The first week of 2016 is complete. I survived. If my word for the year wasn't brave I'm not entirely convinced I'd still be standing right now. Every evening has involved repeating "I need to be brave enough just for tonight. We'll deal with tomorrow when it comes" So how have the resolutions been going?

First up the resolutions. Well I sit here at 20.30 with my phone on beside me. Turning it off at 6pm? Well it's happened some nights but also my mental health is a bit fragile at the moment. I need that external support that being able to contact my friends at different hours bring me right now. That doesn't mean I'm not still aiming for no phone after 6pm; circumstances right now require it to be different and actually I need to be kind to myself, not force myself to do this alone. I am, however, already more aware at how much more I need to invest myself in being present for others. Same with Facebook. I waste a lot less time on social media already and actually I'm more efficient to the point I'm left wondering "how did this ever take me so long?"!

I've managed my two walks this week, I've kept up daily quiet time and I'm being brave. Which brings me on to how my one word has been going. It hasn't been easy. Every single day I've had some sort of struggle; I'm so up and down at the moment but every night I'm making a conscious decision to be brave; to not give in to my head and see what happens tomorrow. I've had my first proper counselling session in several years, I've come back for the second term of internship (not an easy decision) and I've managed to start the term forgiving someone I wasn't sure I could. This week I've had to decide that I need to not look for jobs yet- it's not the time and it's stressing me out endlessly. The time will come and until then I have to keep giving it back to God.

I've had so many compliments and encouragements this week about things I've done and it feels good. The bad times are bad, but there's always something positive floating around that makes it easier. The days ahead scare me so bad, but I can smile. I am brave enough and I will win this battle. One day at a time.

She is clothed in strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come
Proverbs 31:25

One Word 365 (2016)

So I mentioned a couple of days ago that I'd been challenged to come up with one word for 2016 that will become the theme of my year. There were a couple of words that floated around and felt kind of right, but there was one definite, completely right, no arguments about it, word for 2016.

The first word that originally came to mind was "restore". Joel 2:25 says
"I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten..." I'd be lying if I said I have gotten exactly what I dreamed of when I was a child over the last 15 years of my life. I never imagined any of the things I've been through. Heck, I wanted to be married by age 23 and I was going to be a nurse, like a really successful one or a genetics counsellor. I was going to live abroad. That obviously hasn't happened. I lost so many years to the locusts in my life (mainly mental illness, but there's a couple of other things in there too) and I believe in this Scripture. God will restore those years and it feels like this coming year things will start to shift in to place; but it isn't the main focus. So that was that. "Restore" is not the word.

There were a couple of others "trust", "healing", "bold" but as "restore" they didn't quite fit exactly right.

The word that stuck, time and again, that has been floating around in the past couple of months but I haven't grasped for myself yet is "brave". In our first week we had to think of a word to describe ourselves that began with the same letter as our name. Brave kept coming back. I wrote about it a little here. I look back on my life and so many people tell me I'm brave, I've fought so much and I'm still fighting, still standing and yet it isn't a word I would use to ever describe myself. I don't put myself out there, I prefer to hide in a corner and sulk than speak up for what I believe in for fear of it coming across wrong. 2016 feels like the year I need to claim that for myself. I am brave. I can type it, but can I truly say it out loud and believe it? And then the following on from that- can I be brave for God? Can I step out of my comfort zone, and do a new thing? Do something I am passionate about, that might seem a little out there to some. I have no idea what that might be but unless I am brave, take chances, embrace opportunities how will I find out? Now that this past year I have spent learning that I am safe in God, I needn't be afraid to take risks. 

Shamefully I've never read the Chronicles of Narnia, despite owning them for many, many years. And today, as I was reading Prince Caspian, this interaction between Aslan and Susan hit me (So much so I underlined it! I never underline in books). 
"You have listened to your fears, child," said Aslan. "Come, let me breathe on you. Are you brave again?" And it resonated. Am I brave again? Right now, I don't feel it. I'm letting the hate of New Year win, but at the end of the year, will I be able to answer this question differently? I long to be able to hand my worries and fears over to God and that be it; not cling to a teeny bit that holds me back. I can only do that by being brave. I trust Him. I know he is safe. So this year I will not only aim to be brave for God but be brave in my relationship with God. It is only to let things go. At least once a week someone retweets "let go and let God". That's part of my being brave. He will be with 


And then in standard New Year fashion...I alluded the other day to the fact I have succumbed to the necessary resolutions for the new year. For me they aren't about self improvement, they're about embracing the life God has given me- spending more time with friends, rediscovering who I really am, and most importantly getting closer to God. 

*I'm only going to use Facebook on the work computer (this may sound ridiculous but I need to use FB for my job. If I didn't, I'd delete it completely and be done with it. I don't need to spend hours scrolling staring at baby photos and engagement announcements which leave me longing for a "better life" when I have so many people around me that I need to invest in)
*I will aim to not use my phone between the hours of 6pm and 7am (Once again I must invest in other people)
*I am going to read 12 new books (they can be any genre, and I can read them all over the summer if that's how it works out. I love reading, and I read many more than 12 books in a year, but they're all comfortable old favourites. I need to break that habit) 
*I will go for at least 2x30 minute walks each week (it will give me time alone with God, time to calm my thoughts, and give me a little bit of physical exercise. It can also be taken in 4x15 minute walks) 
*I will continue to make sure I leave the town in which I'm living at least once every 6 weeks (Ideally I'd leave the county but time/money hasn't allowed for that. I just need time away to help me appreciate what I have)
*I will continue to designate one day a week in which I'm allowed to say no to people's plans and do what I want (It preserves my sanity more than people realise)
*I will continue to have daily quiet time (even on the worst days if I write nothing more than the verses I have read, I will not break this habit)
*I will be brave and take risks (God is right there with me. I need to step out in faith or I'll get nowhere)

But now thus says the Lord,
he who created you, O Jacob,
    he who formed you, O Israel:
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
    I have called you by name, you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
    and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
    and the flame shall not consume you.
Isaiah 43: 1-2

New Year, New Me.

We all know how it works. The time changes from 23:59 to 00:00. The year increases one number. And somehow a switch is flicked and suddenly we are a brand new version of ourselves. Everything resets and we have a brand new chance to be the very best person we can be. Whatever happened the previous year is behind us and forgotten. No-one ever references our mistakes and failures ever again. 

Oh, that isn't how it works? Darn it. There was me thinking I've been doing something wrong every single year. 

We set ourselves goals; resolve to change ourselves in some way. We strive for the latest idea of perfection which no doubt, as the year goes on, will change. Currently it's all about being skinny without being too skinny and eating only plant based food or is it being an ethical vegan?! Correct me if I'm wrong, I'm not really down with the latest cool things, and you definitely can't ever beat a three cheese toastie on thick white bread. MMMM melted cheese. 

Anyway...

Somehow the increase of a single digit on the year means we must improve ourselves exponentially. It's like starting that diet "on Monday" or joining the gym at the start of the month but on a massive scale. A new year means we must try and change everything all at once, and to me that just seems to be a recipe for disaster. And yet still I give in to the pressure every year and make these resolutions, that by February I've lost momentum with and by December can't for the life of me remember what they were! 

My 2015 started in a suitably miserable way. Home alone and watching New Year's Eve. There was probably some tears and a bit of self harm chucked in there too. My likely resolution was "don't see the end of 2015". But look, on the 30th December 2015, here I am. Alive and kicking. It would be an understatement to say that a lot changes in 12 months. A lot changes every 12 months between my birthdays too, but I don't sit there the night before my birthday making a list of things I want to change by the time I get to my next birthday. I could pick any random day and say by this time next year I want this to be different, but I don't. So why do we do it for a new year? 

I see a lot of things on social media these days about people who struggle with the concept of a new year and all the improvements they must make. It really is simply another day. It's taken me YEARS to learn that. I find this time of year difficult. It's when the "you don't belong in next year" thoughts shout loudest. But if that were the case, why once I made it to 2013, to 2014, to 2015 was I allowed to live in the months following January but not that first month? It makes no sense. The month rolls over, the date changes, but this happens every 28-31 days. This December 31st-1st January I am trying to make a conscious effort to not do anything "special" Yes I will hang out with friends, but I will come home when I'm tired. Yes, I will set myself a list of goals for the year but I'm not committed to them. I'd love to join a gym and lose xkg by March and give up x, y and z but what's the point? 

God made me as I am, and the only improvements I should be making should be ones drawing me closer to Christ. I don't need to change my body, I don't need to "think more happy thoughts" and no matter how many professionals tell me exercise will help my mood I know for a fact it doesn't and it achieves nothing but actually exacerbating my depression (fun fact about me right there ;)) so why do I need to force myself to go to the gym at least 3 times a week? Friday is just the start of another month. Instead of trying to change myself, I'm going to work harder on making sure I am truly thankful for all that I already have. I'm going to let God use me for good things. I'm going to be brave (there'll be a post about that on Friday!). I cannot change myself, by myself. I can do it only with God. 

You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.

Ephesians 4:22-24

One Word 365 (2015)

In small group the other week, my small group leader mentioned about One Word 365 (http://oneword365.com/) and challenged the two of us in small group to do it for the coming year. She was telling us about her words for the past couple of years, what they've ended up meaning, what she's learnt. And as she spoke, I realised that I knew my word for the past 12 months. 

Safe. 

My word for 2015 was safe and I didn't even know it. But it makes complete sense. This year has been a massive lesson in learning to trust God. I've been through so many things which would make others give up and yet here I am still. God has kept me safe in so many ways. I haven't self harmed since February, For the whole of 2015 I haven't taken an overdose. Physically I've been safe. Financially, when I've had no income, when I've been homeless, when I've felt at rock bottom God has provided. I've been safe in all of those times. I've had amazing friends put in my path, even when I thought I was losing them because life changed; they've remained. These are safe, stable friendships like I've never had before. With my history being full of people I thought were safe, who then proved otherwise; or those of who I was always wary; and the forever changing list of safe people I could talk to, I'm amazed these people have genuinely stuck around. They consistently find themselves on my safe list of people in a crisis and they even stick around in the good times too! I don't need to be broken to be loved. I feel safe with them wherever we are. I walk in to a room with them and I know I'm home. Home is a safe place. For me, home doesn't quite fit the box that people would like it to, but I know where I feel safe, and for me, when I feel safe, I'm home. 

Back in spring, I went on an Encounter course at church. It's a mix between therapy and theology and was just wonderful. In the very first week we talked about characteristics of God and the one that came immediately to mind was safe. I'd never considered this characteristic of God before and I wasn't quite sure where that thought would lead me. I realise it's brought me here. I am safe, because God is safe. And I needed to learn that He will keep me safe no matter what. I've begun to accept I am safe and therefore I'm ready to take risks. Knowing that I have a safety net in God. He will catch me, break the fall, pick me back up. I'm safe and I trust Him. Let's see where 2016 takes me. 

In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, O LORD, will keep me safe.
Psalm 4:8 (NLT)

Christmas

I feel I need to blog about Christmas, to remind me really what it is all about. 

Christmas is not about:
*how many times my mother can comment on my weight/eating habits
*how many "joke" arguments my parents have
*how many presents I got
*how many Christmases in a row Santa has not bought me slippers despite me taking Santa to a shop each year, pointing out the pair I want and saying "buy these now please so we don't have a repeat of last year"...and it still happening. I was so confident mum Santa had bought me slippers this year that I even bought my old ones so they could be replaced. You'd think I'd have learnt after 5 years...
*my grandparents believing they'll ruin Christmas if mum has to pick them up
*lamenting that it's been x amount of Christmases without *family member* (8 without my uncle and cousin now)
*how quickly I can get away from the dinner table to retreat back in to my own space
*how quickly I can get back home to Oxford

Christmas is about:
*Jesus and the amazing gift that God gave to the world
*reconnecting with family
*using the phrase "calories don't count at Christmas" as much as is possible. 
*Christmas socks and Christmas pants and new pyjamas
*welling up at the Queen's Speech because it is exactly what you need to hear
*the Light of the World winning against the darkness 

I know so many people who struggle with Christmas for many reasons. There's one particular friend this year who is in my thoughts almost constantly. Something really significant happens and suddenly Christmas is changed forever. In my family, this year has been relatively low drama. No-one died, no-one was in hospital, there were no screaming matches, and no arguments over whether phones/laptops/tv are allowed to be used on Christmas Day. 

Christmas for me is not easy. As an only child, there's no special extended family gathering. My grandparents don't even come over any more (I'm pretty sure if I didn't venture to Kent, my grandparents wouldn't even acknowledge Christmas exists). So Christmas Day, except for the presents, is like any other time my parents and I get together. Mum and dad bicker, mum comments on/criticises my life in some way, dad just sits silently or hides on the computer and I end up crying myself to sleep in the early hours of the morning because why can't my family be normal? 

I tell people I hate Christmas. That's not entirely true. I hate the fake festivities that Christmas is expected to be. I love that Jesus came in to the world, I love that no matter how many times I screw up, I'm still forgiven because my sin was taken when Jesus died on the cross, I love that God loves me (even when I can't quite understand why!). I just hate the hype and the family expectation and the "everyone look at what a wonderful Christmas we're having" thing, especially on social media. In the build up to Christmas I cannot cope with the discussion over "what does your family do for Christmas?" "oh I've got this extended family and that extended family and even though a few years ago this happened, we still love having them at Christmas time" GREAT but it doesn't work for everyone.  And apparently it's not limited to Christmas with my parents, but also this year we had Christmas as an intern house. I cried my way through the whole entire day because it's overwhelming. Christmas has never been a big family thing, it hasn't involved lots of games, and I definitely am not used to "protected family time but we can bend the rules because it's x" Maybe when I have a family of my own it'll be different. We'll make new traditions, we'll actually go to church on Christmas Day, and midnight communion the night before, and it'll be a day free of arguments no matter what happens. That's my hope for the future. Right now I have to suck it up and admit Christmas sucks, that being poorly is actually a really good way to survive it because I can "need a lie down" when I can't face anything more, and just remember that it isn't about family but about God. There is hope, because Jesus is light. Jesus brings life where there appears to be none. Right now is hard, but the future will be worth it. To look back and see where God has brought me, through all this rubbish in the middle. 

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned
Isaiah 9:2 (ESV)

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
John 1:5 (ESV)

One Year...

I've said it before but a lot can change in just 365 days. 

On Monday, I will be 1 whole year overdose free, I woke up one Sunday morning last year, wishing I hadn't but also relieved. I had no idea, going to bed the night before, if my body would survive the third overdose in 4 days. Part of me hoped it wouldn't. It was easier to let the darkness win. 

On that Sunday evening my friend dragged me up for prayer. I'd just returned from looking after my grandad for a month. Work was horrific. My friends didn't understand. I felt like even God had given up on me. Asking for prayer was a last ditch attempt. I felt nothing. The entire time the vicar was praying for me, I was planning how many tablets I'd need to buy to make this last attempt the final one. All I needed to do was get through the 45 minute drive home and then I could say goodbye to the world. I remember when I moved 45 minutes away, people freaked out and said I shouldn't be that far away and living alone. Little did they know that 45 minute drive would save my life. 

At some point, driving along a dark road, I told myself I could have 24 more hours and if I still felt that awful, I could end it. I knew I wouldn't be able to hold myself accountable though, so emailed my pastorate leader when I got home. In typing that email I promised her I'd not overdose until 2nd January. I have no idea where that date came from, or how I managed to even hit "send". One moment of courage and I'm still overwhelmed at the thought it ever happened. I read the email frequently in disbelief.

On 2nd January, I wanted to reward myself with an overdose for not overdosing to that point. Instead I text a friend promising her until 10th July. I got to my 25th birthday. A day I never dreamt of seeing. 4 months later, here I am. I didn't need to make any more promises to get to this point. Every day is still a battle. My thoughts tempt me every so often to buy more tablets "just in case". I still get scared taking paracetamol for a headache in case I can't stop. But from Monday I'll be a year overdose free. A year without an attempt to take my life. Considering this past year; all the instability, the changes, the admissions about my past, friendships changing, it is unbelievable that I have made it through. In just one year, so much has changed. I still struggle to see a future after July 2016 but I know I'll make it there. I may not have had a conventional journey to recovery this past year, but I'm getting there. 

Every day involves me fighting, it is going to take a long time, but I know God has given me the strength to choose to fight every single day. I have to choose to be courageous every single day.

"Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts"- Winston Churchill