Tale Older than Time

Beauty and the Beast? I'm going to do that thing where you say 'Ah! That's a bit like Jesus, that is.' Sorry.

So Adventure Girl and I finally went to see the new movie version. The 90s cartoon version was her favourite film as a little girl, and the movie took me back to hazy Sunday afternoons slumped on the sofa, catching up on sleep while my little girl with her endless energy spun around the room in her somewhat torn yellow Belle dress, the songs whirling through my dozy, tiny-children-sleep-deprived head. As I watched the new film, some of these words came back to me, conjuring up the taste of yearning the story always left me with. I want adventure in the Great Wide Somewhere, I want it more than I can say, Belle sings to a sweeping backdrop of stunning mountain scenery. It struck me that in our lives we are all longing for the great wide somewhere, we are all looking for the big adventure, all drawn towards the soul-level keening for more, and that every story we tell reflects this hidden truth deep within humanity: We are made for more.

Jaded cynics' comments regarding Stockholm Syndrome aside, I thought about some of the themes in the film and wondered why they always grabbed hold of me so. I think the central motifs are of redemption and restoration. Here we have a prince, a bit of a nasty piece of work by all accounts, selfish and rude, turning away an ugly old hag begging for shelter and getting something of a shock when she morphs into a fearful - if beautiful - enchantress and curses him and the entire castle in one fell swoop. It's only when and if he learns to love that they will be released from their bonds, she says, but he'd better do it by the time this rose drops its final petal. So we get the rather grumpy beast who can't find it in him to treat people very nicely, including Belle's father and Belle herself when they drop in. Belle, of course, is a poor village girl, shunned by others for being 'different'. Adventure Girl always liked her the best of all the Disney Princesses 'because she has some sass about her'.

You know the story - Beauty melts Beast's hard heart. You see it beginning to soften, amid the harshness of perpetual winter over the enchanted castle. Love is doing its unique thing, weaving around hearts and minds with transformative power, leaving little room for doubt or fear. And this is where it differs from the norm, where justice is done and the baddies go down: this baddy is changed. This baddy is redeemed. He's given another chance, grace is extended to him freely and gloriously as Belle makes the decision to forget his previous bad behaviour and love him anyway.

You can see where this is going...

That unconditional love is something we can all grasp hold of and all be changed by, poured down over us like morning dew. God is all about redemption. Second chances. Lavish grace.

And then there's the restoration, the dazzling, triumphant restoration. As the beast is transformed, not only back into human form but into something different than before, something softer, something capable of love - so the enchantment is broken and the castle is set free. The imagery is startling; dark grotesque gargoyles utterly remodelled into golden, stunning eagles and angels and cherubs, broken pieces fallen to the ground in the misery of despair and disrepair swept up and re-attached to where they belong, reminding me of a passage in Isaiah:

They will rebuild the ancient ruins
  and restore the places long devastated;
they will renew the ruined cities
    that have been devastated for generations.

The sense of joy as the ruins are rebuilt and renewed is tangible. The castle is set free from its bondage to decay, from its constant winter, and spring comes quickly, flowers opening in delight all over the awakening gardens, darkness fleeing in the face of the light flooding in. Things are put right, restored to their former glory and beyond. The beast is given a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. Even the enchantress is redeemed in the new version, breaking the spell herself even when it seems too late, even when the final petal has fallen and the cursed objects lay too still on the battered ground. She observes a love stronger than death and chooses life. She goes against her own law of the curse, and chooses freedom.

Tale as old as time, tune as old as song, Mrs Potts sings over the couple twirling through the larger-than-life ballroom. The truth is, we are in that tale, the story as old as time, the song older still. The God outside time who made us for the great wide somewhere, made us for more than this. Made us for glorious relationship with him and with each other. J.R.R Tolkien said that we’re all searching for an overarching story, a story where things are made right in the end, because that will be our story, where justice will be done and mourning will be no more. That’s why we love stories with happy endings, we want things to be resolved, we’re desperate for injustice to be wiped away and for the poor village girl to get her prince.

I love that they added some words to Tale as old as Time in the new version, right at the end. 'Winter turns to spring,' sings Mrs Potts, 'famine turns to feast.' How glorious a picture of our faith and the hope it holds, the life in its fullness offered, the transformative power of the gospel.

May we know our winter turning to spring, our famine turning to feast. May we choose to live in the story which will end with love winning. Even though we're in the battle still, the conflict where the beast is still trapped in his enchanted cage and the village girl is desperate and afraid, we’re trapped in our seasons of pain and mourning and fear, yet may we know times of provision and laughter and hope as we wait for the story to come to its yearned for climax, the ending which carries us through to eternity in a contentment we can’t even conceive of in this life.

Tale as old as time? Or a story even older. Song as old as rhyme? Or the song which streams through history and beyond, bringing redemption and restoration, hope in the darkness and as many second chances as we ask for. Irradicable, indestructible hope and love which never, ever fails us.

What does it feel like to be disappointed by God?

I hear that phrase a lot. 'Disappointment with God.' There's even a book with the same title (a very good book, actually.) People often ask me if I am disappointed with God, and if I say I am not, say that I should be. And if I say that yes, today actually I am, I may get the 'oh don't worry, he has plans to prosper and not to harm' etc. I know. I've used it myself.

But thinking about it, I am just not sure disappointment with God is a construct that is helpful. Why am I disappointed with God? First and foremost, it's because I'm not healed. That's the big one - the one everyone expects me to be disappointed about and validates me feeling this way (it's OK - only natural - keep feeling that way.) But I am not sure I want to keep feeling that way, because I am not sure that I am, actually, disappointed with God.

I get disappointed I am not healed, but then when I spend any amount of time in God's presence that disappointment seems to fade and become less all consuming, and my thoughts turn away from me, and turn to contentment instead of dissatisfaction. I could spend the rest of my life deciding to live in disappointment and developing an increasingly bitter exterior. I could also spend the rest of my life trying to be healed at every possible opportunity, but you know what? That's so exhausting, dispiriting and can actually get in the way of a good relationship with God and with others - I become drained by the fact it's not happening, my disappointment begins to eat away at my love for God and I become disappointed by others too when they may try to make it about my problem or my faith or lack thereof.

Being disappointed with someone implies that we think that they have not done something in the way in which we think they should have done it, or that they have let us down in some way. To be disappointed with God, then, means that we are deciding that God should have done something another way. We are putting that box around God again, that narrowing of God whereby we forget that whole thing about God's thoughts being above ours, and all that. Are we narrowing God by being constantly disappointed?

Many writers in scripture show disappointment with God, especially in the Psalms. This fact is often cited as an excuse to be Disappointed. But we need to remember that the disappointment shown by the psalmist is usually accompanied by expectation and finally with praise. ('Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Saviour and my God.) The Psalmist has recognised that the great weight of disappointment can be balanced by the great expectation of God's work in his life.

I'm deciding to balance my own disappointment with great expectation. This doesn't mean that I am banned from the odd rant session at God Psalmist Stylee, but that I decide that my days will not be dictated by a sickening sense of being let down. Again. Instead I choose to look at God, to spend my time gazing upon God, and find that any sense of being let down is so very overwhelmed by feeling utterly loved instead. It's a much happier feeling.

This also doesn't mean that I am saying that I Give Up. I do not give up, but I do reserve the right to not Go Down To The Front every time I go to something where people are asked to Go Down To The Front. Sometimes I quite like sitting in my seat, soaking in worship, and find my healing far deeper in that than in going and endeavouring to explain, sometimes over loud music, what I would like prayer for, and then coming away again feeling a little lessened by the experience, often depending on the focus of the pray-er. I had a lovely experience last year at New Wine, where I did feel I needed to obey that nudge and get down there. After explaining, the lady didn't pray for miraculous healing or tell my pain to leave or anything like that. She prayed simply that God would come to me in my pain and do what God wanted to do. How freeing for me that was - I didn't feel obligated to feel better, like so often in these situations - I felt free to be whatever God was doing with me there and then, which was pretty fabulous actually.

I think God is so much bigger than we make out and can do so much more than we can comprehend. And that our perceptions of what God should do are not always what God chooses to do. But we can have great expectations of what God will do, whether that involves physical healing or not. I know one day I will be whole, and for now I am choosing not to be disappointed but to embrace all God has for me in the body I have today. I'll keep asking for prayer, I'll sometimes sit and be. I pray for you too today:

¹⁶ I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, ¹⁷ so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, ¹⁸ may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, ¹⁹ and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. ²⁰ Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, ²¹ to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

Amen!

The Point Being?

We have a hamster named Bilbo.

He doesn't do very much all day, really. He sleeps a lot, and occasionally he'll have a little wander round his cage, stuff his pouches with whatever he can find and go back to bed. He might come out for a little wander round the sofa or in his ball for a while. He's not a lot of use though, frankly, he doesn't do anything much.

Except he does. He brings joy to the family. Even Adventure Bloke and I are rather smitten by this tiny rodent. The look of joy on the Adventurous Pair's faces when we brought him home was...well, Priceless. They get so much out of him - cuddling him, feeding him, cleaning him out (well, they wouldn't say they get a lot out of that particular aspect of Bilbo, but let's face it, it's all about Responsibility and Learning to care for another, and that cannot be a Bad Thing.) They love him, and wouldn't be without him.

In my darker moments I feel a bit like Bilbo as described in the first paragraph. Not a whole load of use to anyone or anything, and not doing an awful lot. What is the point of me? It's daft, but these ponderings often come more to the surface when I'm feeling a little better. It's like there's this script going on, that says 'you're doing OK, now Justify Your Existence', and I start endless guilt trips about not being productive enough and not using my education, and not even using the time I have particularly wisely (Facebook anyone?)

When I'm in the darker times of illness, I don't think like this. I don't have the energy, let alone any thought of having to justify myself. It often feels like God carries me through these times, with a level of contentment and peace that is surprising given the circumstance. It's like I know it's OK. This is how I am and this is where I am, and I don't have to do. I don't have to even be someone different, I just have to be me. And in that, God sees me a little like my children see Bilbo. He rejoices over me and wouldn't be without me. Does there need to be a point in me to God?

So why can I not carry this through to those times I feel stronger? I've had a few good weeks, I've been camping, I've been out and about and attended events and enjoyed myself. I've still tired and had to pace things, and run out of spoons on occasion, but there's been a definite shift towards stronger times. This is good! This is what I crave for in those hard times. I long for life with this kind of normality.

And then I go and beat myself up that I should be more than who I am. I'm stronger, so what am I to show for it? Why can't I simply continue in what God has provided and given for me to be?

You do not need to justify yourself, dear friends. You do not need to have a USP, or even a P at all. You are so much more than that. I can't say it enough - God loves you, unconditionally and wildly, extravagantly and often unrequietedly. (is that a word?) God doesn't love you because you have a point, because you have achieved this and that, because you run from one thing to another and are busy, even if it is all in God's name. God loves you because he made you. The Point Being there does not need to be one. Right? <shakes self>

So lets stop beating ourselves up, and get the line between acceptance and complacency right. I do not want to languish and revel in sickness or define myself by it, and neither do I want to make it the reason I don't push myself or challenge myself. But I do want to keep reminding myself that I need not justify myself.

May you have the confidence to be who you are created to be, to be your beautiful and meaningful self, and yet to reach out and keep straining toward the goal.

and stop worrying about what others think of you

Leaning

So, here it is. I have prevaricated and procrastinated for long enough. It's time to tell about that experience. You know, the big one, the one where I wondered if I'd see 2012 through.

What a fellowship, What a joy divine
Leaning on the everlasting arms
What a blessedness, what a peace that's mine
Leaning on the everlasting arms

This is me in the 2nd week of December, or thereabouts.

I suddenly went down with pneumonia in both lungs and went straight into hospital. I was there around 2.5 weeks. I don't have an awful lot of memory of the first week, it's a tad blurry. I remember being really, really scared. I was on constant 02 and still couldn't suck enough air in. I felt like I was drowning.

Lord I'm leaning, leaning
Safe and secure from all alarms
Leaning, leaning
Leaning on the everlasting arms

I only remember calling out to God once. 'Why?' The answer was in the silence and the struggle for every breath. In the recollection of Jesus' own agony. In the ministrations of the staff, in the love of my family and friends. No awesome glimpses of heaven or visions of angels. But a God who was next to me, in it with me, who knew.

What have I to dread
What have I to fear
Leaning on the everlasting arms
I have blessed peace with my Lord so near
Leaning on the everlasting arms

This was the worst exacerbation of my disease in at least 12 years. I cannot remember before such a desperate fight. I would wake up and be unable to move. The pain came with the lack of breath. I'm still recovering from that bit.

Lord I'm leaning, leaning
Safe and secure from all alarms
Leaning, leaning
Leaning on the everlasting arms

I'm aware that this is sounding somewhat melodramatic. But it's cathartic to get down how it was, exactly, and come to terms with that. I was too busy battling to reflect an awful lot, and then too busy recovering. I think I wrote on Facebook after the first week 'I feel like a piece of driftwood washed up to the shore.' I felt exactly that - like I'd been bashed around on the rocks for a week or so, and now it was time to rest. I'm still there, really. I've left the house a few times now, but normal life is still on the housebound side.

Oh how sweet to walk in the pilgrim way
Leaning on the everlasting arms
Oh how bright the path grows from day to day
Leaning on the everlasting arms

It puts a lot of stuff into perspective, something like that. Obvious stuff like the importance of good relationships, like being so very grateful for the love of family and friends. And less outward stuff like realising the importance and even sacredness of each moment. No point trying to live for the future. I could be straining for when I am 'better', whenever that may be, without taking each day for what it is, for the beautiful moments therein. For the laughter with my children over daft YouTube clips, for an evening with Adventure Bloke watching a favourite programme. For each moment with friends who visit. Life doesn't need to be so quick, so furious. Slowed down things can be appreciated.

Lord I'm leaning, leaning
Safe and secure from all alarms
Leaning, leaning
Leaning on the everlasting arms

I'm pondering on contentment at the moment, and what St Paul meant by 'the secret to contentment'. A lot of people seem to base it on circumstance, on health, on relationships. When one of those things is stripped out is it possible to be content? Is it possible that contentment could be to do with the moment, and finding God in the moment? More on this to come as I ponder.

So I'm Leaning. I was Leaning in the hospital, leaning further in than I had perhaps done ever before. The everlasting arms were there, as they always are and always will be. I think that in leaning, far from losing my own independence, I gain all that I am supposed to be, and the further I lean, the further the truth of this is revealed. Try some leaning yourself :)

With thanks to the amazing David Crowder Band.