Silencing the shoulds

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I’m struggling to silence the shoulds today. It’s an ongoing battle. Apparently responsibility is one of my top 5 strengths – truth is it feels more like a curse. It amplifies the shoulds.

The should soundtrack goes like this, you may have a similar one.

You should have finished that by now. You should have called them, visited them, had that conversation. You should be more kind, more generous, more gentle, stronger. You should be a better mumma, a more giving wife, a more attentive daughter. You should be a better housewife. You should be tidier. You should be more particular. You should be ‘there’ more for everyone in your life. You should pray more, study more. You should should should!!!

Shut up shoulds. Be silent. Jesus still my mind. Quiet my soul with your singing.

In these should days I intentionally lean in to Him. I remind myself of His faithfulness and unswerving acceptance of me right now, not how I should be, but how I am. I’m reminded by my closest loved ones to look up and around at who I am instead of where I think I should be.

Are your shoulds drowning out your peace. Silence them with me.

Take me to the safe place

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Father gather me into your arms.
To stay in your love until I’m convinced that I’m good enough.
Till I’m sure that I belong to you.
Till I’m secure in your all encompassing grace.

Take me to the safe place, to the hidden place; tucked under your feathery arms, my head on your chest.

I am forgiven.
No more condemned.
No guilt, No shame,
Only delight.
All grace
Forever yours.
Nothing to do,
Everything to be.

take a listen to this – my soundtrack as I sit with God tonight in my tent ‘I will stay’ Kathryn Scott http://open.spotify.com/track/1FMadNIhm8bO6XlVTnZaTQ

The stretch in ‘followership’

Stretched. Pulled relentlessly. Growing pains or a pregnancy stretching my soul’s skin and muscles. Almost breaking but stopping short.  There is pain and discomfort in the expansion.  But I never break.  Eventually the increase becomes normal in time for the process to begin again.

This is leadership, or maybe better put as ‘followership’. I follow Jesus therefore I should expect to be stretched, challenged and expanded.  If I’m to possess life in all its fullness, all authority, everlasting life then my soul must expand to make room.  My heart’s tent pegs too need stretched out. Space for more to give away.

House extensions are messy affairs.  I’ve never done one but I’ve seen enough to know that they are more costly, disruptive and stressful than anticipated. There is a period of mess and discomfort before the increased space can be inhabited.

I’m learning to anticipate and lean into this inevitable repeating process.  So often I’ve fought it. Cried. Threatened to run away.  Shook my fists and stamped my feet in fear.  Afraid that the gap was too big, that the stretch would break me. Afraid that my insecurities were louder than the voice of my Father calling me to more. Now I only do some of those things but I also recognise the early signs; the frustrations, the creaks, the claustrophobia  and I can anticipate the stretching to come.  My joy now too is to interpret this process for others and cheerlead them through it just like my friend and mentor has done for me countless times (God must have given her an extra portion of patience :))

My observation; I see this process repeated time and time again in leaders.  The best ‘word’ spoken over me,  that sums leadership up is this, “it’s always going to be beyond you Michelle”.  I cried when this was prayed over me, not happy Holy Spirit tears. No; tired, frustrated tears that morphed into a resolute acceptance that it was in fact true.

The big learning? God has never let me down in this process.  He always fills the gap between where I am, and where I need to be, until I grow into the space, allow the stretch or take the leap. He is always there. Even when I become stuck in my fear or unbelief in myself, He stands patiently in the space waiting for me to lean into Him.  Waiting for my nod to indicate that I’m ready for what’s next.

Here’s a link to song that I’m listening to tonight as I write, there’s no clever connect to what i’ve written, it just my soundtrack (and on my worship set list tomorrow too).

Crowned with compassion

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He redeems my life from the pit. From the place of despair, of isolation and hopelessness.

He takes me from there and then He puts crowns on me. Crowns of love – I get that one. But a crown of compassion? It’s more than just His compassion for me – it’s a crown that displays His compassion but He also adorns me with it and for it. He puts His compassion on me.

Not as a yoke to signify work. Not as a cloak to signify practicality and not as staff to signify authority; but as a crown to demonstrate a gift I do not deserve, to demonstrate my adoption into His royal family. To demonstrate His exuberant generosity but also the great wealth that compassion bears. 

Sometimes the weight of compassion crushes my soul. My heart breaks and my mind strains with injustice and violent aggression against the weak and the poor, the least and lowest. I become weary and overwhelmed with this compassion that can feel like a curse and something to avoid. I love this picture of compassion as a crown. The weight of it a reminder of the responsibility, but the beauty of  it a reflection of the heart of God, tender, merciful, just, faithful, loving and strong. And it’s a gift, that signifies an invitation to family. Compassion is the certificate of my adoption.

My top 5 Holiday essentials

Confession time.  This post has been sitting in my draft folder since mid July.  I procrastinate and ruminate too much with this blog.  So for any of you lucky enough to be heading on holiday/vacation in September (my personal fav time of year to escape) here’s my top 5.  For the rest of us dreaming and maybe like me already planning my 2015 escape you can file this away in your passport folder.

1. Family – my man and my boys. Always best when I pack 5 passports in my plastic clip wallet with the boarding cards etc. I love travelling full stop. But with these 4 it’s always more fun and love filled.

IMG_4756.JPG2. Kindle loaded with books. I started Canada and got as far as 18% and stopped – didn’t grab me at all. Moved on to The Villa – perfect holiday read. Then The Girl who saved the King of Sweden – this was a good read although I enjoyed the Hundred Year old man by the same author more (got Caleb, Micah and Jason all to read it in this trip). Now I’ve finished a Scarlet Thread; I downloaded this ages ago and forgot how much I enjoy reading Francine Rivers books. Couldn’t sleep one night (hard beds) and read for 3 hours until the sun came up then dozed off for another bit. Started To Kill a Mocking Bird and couldn’t believe I hadn’t read before now. (Finished it when I got home – now one of my all time best reads)

3. Moisturiser – found this cheapie in Sainsburys as an alternative to after sun and at ¼ if the price it works a treat!

cheapie 4. v60 coffee dripper – I need to have coffee and this by far is the best option for travel. It’s plastic so light and almost unbreakable and makes a great cup of the black stuff. I bought it in Cincinnati last year summer and it already is an essential part of my travel kit alongside my travel adaptor (yes I love coffee as much as I need to charge my phone).

5. My swimsuit – hot pink from m&s. Perfect fit. Now this is a miracle!! First year in years that I’ve worn my swimsuit without shorts or a sarong. And I swam in the sea. Not quite brave enough to post a pic of me in it. But this was a huge step for me and yet became a small thing after the first day. I love the freedom and simplicity of Portugal. People here come in all shapes and sizes and are unafraid to show there bodies regardless. Young, old, wrinkly, perky, skinny and fatty. It felt important not to allow how I sometimes feel about my body to stop me from being present and engaged with my family. This year I succeeded.

 

 

I dreamt of being … #bringbackourgirls

When I was a teenager many moons ago I dreamt of being a wife and a mum. Unpopular choice in the liberated eighties when young girls like me where encouraged and told that we could have it all; career, friends, car, holidays, husband and children eventually. What I never, ever comprehended to be possible, never could even imagine in my safe, protected bubble of a rural life was that girls just like me, could be kidnapped and sold by terrorists.

#bringbackourgirls
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We have been outraged. We have stamped our feet, shook our fists, prayed our best prayers, embarrassed our western governments into some sort of action and yet those precious daughters are still in captivity.

I love how social media gives us, if even in a small way something to do about it. I ranted and raved one day in my kitchen and my ever challenging husband listened and then asked ‘what are you going to do about Chelle?’ Through hot stingy tears I said all I can do is join in the online barrage that will hopefully catch someone’s attention, who actually can send people into that jungle and rescue ‘our’ daughters. I rallied what good would I be trying to find them anyway!! But I’ll be honest to
join in a social media campaign felt tiny, I felt helpless and unhelpful. Imagine my delight when watching sky news later that week and Eamon Holmes is championing the role of social media in bringing this to the western worlds’ attention. He himself a news anchor challenged the newsrooms for not carrying or prioritising this story until after it had gone viral on social media.

We can all only do what we can. It is futile to wish you were an SAS commando who could swoop in and rescue the girls if you’re a 42 yr old, overweight, unfit, unskilled in combat or survival and all round unqualified person like me. But equally its pointless to do nothing. In most situations there is something we can do, actually I want to say in every situation but that might be unfair so we’ll say most instead.

The girls are still in captivity. Can we keep our voices raised? Can we keep the pressure up? The prayers being petitioned? Until they are returned. Their mothers and fathers cries reverberate around the world, carried on the www.

Father you set the captives free. You release the prisoners. You proclaim liberty over the oppressed. Do it please Father for these your daughters. Continue to break our hearts for them. To find no rest until they are found and released. Holy Spirit you are the comforter bring them and their families comfort. As they wait may your strength arise in them. Change the captors’ hearts. Convict them. Challenge them. Lead them to repentance that would cause them to release the girls and redeem their own lives in the process. Give your wisdom and discernment to those who are searching, leave them clues, send your angels to mark the path. Father I imagine you weeping over these girls and then millions more in the world that they signify. Mobilise your people into action. amen

Stories are everywhere

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Who lived here? From first tenant until now. Who were these people? What were their names, their ages? How many slammed this door in anger? Did these bricks absorb the laughter and joy and mix them with the tears and grief of lives lived together?

These letters etched tell a story. Unheard now but inscribed in history. Do they note friendship long lost or lovers that still linger in the secret shadows of memories? Or a dreamer who dreamed they would leave these streets only to be followed back one day by tv cameras to tell their story of humble beginnings and dizzy heights.

These bricks, in this house, on this street, in this city have stood through times of pain and violence and turmoil. They have resiliently clung to the mortar that binds them to each other and their foundation. Refusing to budge under the weight and strain of gravity. Avoiding the explosions merely by being in the right place at the right time. Not by any choice of the bricks or good planning, purely by chance, or providence depending on your ilk.

My son’s thoughts often astound me. He and I are so different in how we think and process information. He commented recently, as we approached the city, that people should have to build into their building plans how they would demolish the building. He said it was obvious the way buildings where built up and around each other that this was never taken into consideration. I would never ever have thought of that. When I look at an old building I’m wondering and planning how it can be preserved and restored. I feel an injustice when perfectly good houses are tumbled to make room for newer models.

When I see bricks and concrete and buildings I want to see the people that have lived there.  Their stories reverberate in the space between the walls, untold and lingering.  How could you tear it down? Burying the stories of lives lived on those floors and the sounds that floated to the ceilings.

These letters etched in red bricks tell a story, of time, humanity and resilience and I hope; hope. Because hope does not disappoint.

Our own sacred scared : Chantel

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The response to this mini series has been very encouraging.  It has been an honest privilege to host these vulnerable and honest ‘Sacred scared’ guest posts.  I have loved watching how each of the writers (and yes before you try and dismiss this idea – you are a writer) cheered each other on and have become virtual friends.  If you have been following along and still have a post burning in you unwritten or half-written, take courage and send it to me please.

May I introduce my friend, fellow pastor and avid blog reader; Chantel.

I was so excited about this blog, because I love reading them! Reading blogs and articles is something I have discovered in the last few years. I love the way I can be inspired, challenged and moved by another’s person’s stories, thoughts and experiences, and I love sharing them in case someone else might be inspired, challenged and moved too. I love that sense of connection.

Sometimes when I read too much, it makes my head spin. Because I start to hear that voice that says, “you don’t know enough, you haven’t read enough, you haven’t studied enough.” Sounds like a contradiction, but the more I read, at times the more in awe I am of these people who know so much, are so articulate, and must have read and studied so much to express themselves so eloquently.

And so this spills over too in to other areas of my life. I am a daughter, wife, mummy, sister, pastor, counsellor, I call myself jack of all trades, master of none! And I worry that is what I do is not enough, not only do I not read enough or know enough, but I don’t share my faith with my kids enough, I don’t know enough to teach and lead other people, I am not brave enough to be bold in speaking to others about the God I love, and I haven’t read enough counseling books on every conceivable subject to do that well either. Even now I am thinking this won’t be interesting enough, I can’t write it well enough!

So this is my sacred scared. That what I do is “not enough”. Thankfully this doesn’t control me completely. I feel I still step up, I still try to do all the things I am meant to do, and do them the best I can. I don’t feel the “not enough” drives me to extreme behaviour, to striving, to perfectionism. But it is that unsatisfied, unfulfilled, uncomfortable, can’t quite shake it, niggly feeling. Even now I want to articulate this better and my words don’t feel enough. Not enough.

That’s why I am grateful that Jesus is enough. He says to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Cor 12:9) (This verse has come up before in Sacred Scared!) I know He loves me, rejoices over me and He is proud of me, and that is where I must rest. Listen to the voice of God, not the voice of “not enough.” And I love that as we bring our Sacred Scared to Him, in to the Light, as we ponder it in our hearts and confess it to one another, that something is broken, it power over us diminished, and the truth of how God sees us and the words of affirmation from our sisters set us free. Even as I ponder and prepare to share this, I know this to be true.

My favourite verse in the Bible is Philippians 1:6, “being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” The Message says a “flourishing finish!” God has begun a good work in my life and it is through His grace that it will be completed. I once read a quote that has stayed with me ever since, can’t remember where it was from so apologies to the author! “That is why it is possible to be grateful and desperate at the same time; I am grateful for what He has done, and desperate for what He can do.” Jesus is enough, and I am grateful for what He has done and desperate for more!

Chantel and her husband Paul are pastors at Carrickfergus Vineyard Church and proud parents to Sam, Owen & Hope!

Our own sacred scared : Anita

guest post from a friend and very gifted artist Anita

So what is it, what is my biggest fear – what am I really scared over, what is that deep gnawing feeling within me, the one that aches, the one that likes to tug at my shirt tails as I try to move forward, the one that finds a questioning voice to pepper my mind with?

I toy with lots of names for these emotions, these feelings, these limitations but yet I have the feeling that there is probably a key one, one that links them all. You know like that first domino that when given a little nudge, (whether helpful or hindering) will in effect knock the rest down.

So what is my first domino then?
I hear it almost like a revelation, it stops me in my tracks as I walk across the kitchen, chocolate cake in hand! That’s so true I hear my inner self answer, that is it, that’s the wound right there!! Geronimo, light bulb moment! I take a few bites of my cake to soften the blow, to aide my mental processing. I set the cake aside and I write here, now, to process a little further. I’m afraid of this 6 word revelation:

“I’m afraid of being left behind”

For now, I divulge these words to myself, God and my laptop. Whether courage rises so that I might invite others to share my processing, time will tell. God I pray you would heal and shine a light on the lies which reside and replace them with your word, your truth, your love, your touch!

“I’m afraid of being left behind”

I repeat these words several times as I try to understand. I ask myself some questions almost like a friend would, helping another friend put voice to their hurt and work towards finding resolution and peace. Another bite of cake.

Question: What are you afraid of being left behind from?
Pause
Question: Is it a people, a group, a rite of passage, is it life?
Breathe
Question: Where does it really hurt?
Lisen/Hold/Hug/Embrace/Cry Question: What’s the next domino to fall down after this revelation, what does this fear affect in your life?

Answers ripple out, walls fall down, one domino after another;
– I’m afraid of not being accepted,
another falls:
– I’m afraid of not being good enough,
another falls:
– I’m afraid that depression will steal my best,
another falls:
– I’m afraid of failing,
another falls:
– I’m afraid of missing out on life, on the life that God has for me.
Pause, breathe, cry, take another bite of cake.

This chocolate cake i’m devouring, it’s my favourite, my speciality, a faithful offering. A James Martin recipe ‘Chocolate & Cola Cake’. It is particularly delicious a little melted and gooey. It is sweet, it is comforting, it cheers and it is loved by most. But tonight, it has been left behind. It was made specifically for a purpose, extra effort was given to get some missing ingredients in, to find the time to bake it and yet it sits left behind. It didn’t make it to the party. I didn’t make it to the party.

You see the trusty cake failed. It burnt a little on the top, it didn’t seem to be baked properly. The spring loaded tin holding the whole thing together was opened too soon, (in haste by the baker trying to rush the process so to finish) still too warm it collapsed around the sides. The deliciously sweet icing didn’t cover up the collapse or could it fix the fear that maybe it hadn’t cooked through fully. Too late to put back in the oven now! My faithful cake sat sadly on it’s beautiful platter, not fit for the party, a shop bought offering would have to replace it! And the baker? The baker too did not make it to the party, sickness meant she was left behind. The baker felt guilty, sad and sore. The baker braved the eating of the maybe not baked properly cake despite it’s appearance and found that 30 seconds in the microwave rendered it sweet and comforting.

How funny that a chocolate cake could illustrate my greatest fear. My chocolate cola cake left behind also. I stand on my mental soap box: “My dear sweet cake you were not meant for the bin, your ingredients are too rich, too expensive, too beautiful when combined to simply scrape you off that platter, plop you into the bin. I could not dispose of you so. I’m not done with you, my messy cake, you have comfort to bring!”

And God the Father said to me: “My sweet little child, I have not left you behind either, I will not leave you, I will not forsake you. I have knit you together in your mother’s womb. I am all over your life, from the beginning. I know you, I see you, I delight in you. You are my masterpiece. I could not and will not dispose of you into some big world bin. I will not scrape you off a platter. I will not plop you into a heap of rubbish, you do not belong there. Do you hear me child, do you believe me? You do not belong there. Little cake, little child, you may feel inadequate around the other offerings but you are not. I made you, I delight in you. I have not set to put you in some worldly reject bin or some Christian failure rubbish heap. I’m not done with you. I’m not done with you!!

You have NOT been left behind because at 33(an age when you were sure you’d be sorted)
– you have not married, despite your prayers, your dreams, your desires
– you have not become a mother, despite your prayers, your dreams, your desires
– you do not own your own home, in the conventual manner
– you do not have a brilliant, rising career
– you do not connect as closely with those precious friends from before as you once did
– your life is not in the same state/stage as other friends your age
– you have suffered from depression
– you struggle socially
– your life is not what you dreamed it would be
– you don’t think you’ve become who you were born to be, who God wants you to be

And there’s the biggy, the fear that I will somehow miss God’s plan for me, that i’d be left behind from it, from my destiny. That I would fail God and fail others. That I would not live the abundant life that He has for me.

And now as I pick at the chocolaty crumbs, savouring the congealed, gooey taste, I savour His truth, His word; ‘The Lord will fulfill His purpose for me’ Psalm 138 v 8. This text drawn in calligraphy and watercolour given by an early and faithful encourager sits against my cooker hood. If I’d only looked up! And there it is look up, hear His word, trust His heart, Hear His voice. He has not left you behind, He will not leave you behind. You are more than the most delicious dessert at the party, more than the life and soul of the party, more than the most sorted person at the party. You are His most precious bride, His masterpiece, His beloved, His witness, His child. You are not left behind. You are here, right now, seen, loved and held in His hand. Yummy!