Unproductive

I've been frequenting various author/writing blogs lately in my novel-writing mission, but have found that I feel fairly depressed after browsing too many of them. Now this could merely be due to the fact that they actually procrastinate the very thing they advocate, ie actual, real Writing. Or, it could be something more, something whch seems to strike at the heart of me.

These blogs are exhausting. All written by successful people with twenty zillion followers and thousands of perfect widgets proclaiming their great accomplishments; top ten bloggers ever, fifty books published, their perfect life of writing. Then, across their headers, there's more evidence of their triumphs in this brutal market - their international speaking schedule, their competition wins, their Goodreads page along with endorsements from Famous Folk. They've arrived.

And they tell us that we must do similar, if we want to succeed in any way with our writing. We must spend every waking minute gathering and coddling our millions of Twitter fans, and if we have under five thousand then we might as well give up, because our book just won't sell. Not only that, but we must build platforms on Google Plus, Instagram, Goodreads, Youtube, Facebook and everywhere else it is possible to build a social media presence. And then there's our blog. It must be good. It must be professional, and it must show evidence of our faithful followers.


My heart shrinks a little inside when I read these, because I know this is just beyond me, beyond my capabilities, physically. When it comes to social media self-promotion, I am Unproductive. It seems to me that society requires so much productivity of a person in order to be successful - or in order to be in any way deserving of anything at all, possibly. Those in society who are seen as Unproductive are banded together and shoved to one side; the Undeserving. When it comes to matters such as welfare, sections of the media like to play up the unproductivity of the undeserving - they have not tried, thus it is their fault, thus they are undeserving. Why should we help such people?

Sadly, this tends to enclose many people who are sick and disabled, and to society's eyes may be unproductive. Somehow, society have twisted things here so we see the most needy, the most sick as deserving and somehow heroic, but the long term sick, especially those with fluctuating conditions, are often seen as the opposite to this. They just don't try hard enough. Remember all the stuff going around about the Paralympians - they're disabled but they have tried. They are Deserving. But you haven't. Why not?

The truth is, being long term sick is completely exhausting in a way that is hard to explain. It's not like tiredness, more like a constant flu like feeling, taking over your life. That's why when I look at the requirements it seems it is needed to be an author, I want to close my laptop and wipe the lot. I can't do this, because my body isn't strong enough. Sitting at a computer all day blogging and tweeting may not seem a huge burden, but to someone with long term sickness I can promise that it is a burden much too far. On a bad day, I cannot open my computer. On a less bad day, I can read a bit of Facebook. On a slightly better day I can manage the odd blog post or some work on my books. On my best days I can do a lot more of this, and sometimes catch glimpses into what life might look like if it could always be like this. But because my condition is annoyingly fluctuating, I cannot be consistent. I cannot give this kind of commitment to something. Does that mean it's impossible for me to do this? I'm also grateful for the fluctuating nature of it, because it means I get time off, or at least down time where I feel well. Ish. It's good.

People who are long term ill are not undeserving. In general, they are just beyond shattered. They are trying to live day to day, trying their best to get through, to accomplish the smallest of tasks, and to cope. To then be faced with the media casting these kind of aspersions on them could be the straw that breaks the camel's back for them. I plead with our government, with our media to remember everyone has a story, everyone has humanity. Everyone is valued, not for what they do, but who they are. I'd include those who are seen as undeserving but aren't necessarily physically ill in this. They have a story. They are people. I believe they are made in God's image, and I believe in grace, not only rewarding the deserving. I'd love to see a world where grace shone through. Another subject for another time, perhaps.

Meanwhile, I may as well keep chasing the book thing. It's a bit Rejection City round here though, so I may just sit and mope instead.

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

What value on life?

I watched the BBC documentary 23 Week Babies the other night and it's been preying on my mind ever since. In the first case, pondering on the harrowing and unthinkable suffering parents of these incredibly premature babies go through, and endeavouring to imagine what it would be like (impossible to do so, really.) And then there are the dedicated health professionals involved in the process, and the decisions they have to make, decisions that could mean life or death, impossible decisions.

But the documentary threw up some deeply disturbing questions, questions about life, value, disability and euthanasia. The narrator recounted how the statistics of babies born at this gestation were terribly negative, that in fact it was rare that a baby would live. And this led to questions about whether it was even worth trying, or a waste of NHS resources, which could go to 'better use' elsewhere.

Alongside this questions were raised about quality of life, and whether it was worth saving babies who would go on to be disabled, and have 'poorer' quality of life, whatever that may mean (some of the 'disabilities' tiny preemies go on to have are poor eyesight or hearing, for example). While I appreciate the statistics are poor (although not as poor as this documentary contended, according to the ever-right mumsnet.com ;)) I do wonder about the consequences of statements such as the spoken and unspoken ones in this programme. If we say that one set of people are not worth ploughing resources into, what does it say about other sets that society may deem less than valuable? If it is not worth endeavouring to save a 23 week baby, is it worth saving somebody profoundly disabled? If phrases such as 'quality of life' are bandied round about these matters then there could so easily be a danger of the beginning of making medical decisions based on how low the quality of life of the patient is deemed to be, not necessarily about the patient. It is evident to me as well that some do take this further, and add lack of use into the equation. While most of society, I hope, are concerned with quality of life in terms of enjoyment and comfort, some seem to look at what someone puts into society, and if they are unable to, value is somehow thought of as lesser.

Now as you know, I have a wee bee in my bonnet about usefulness, particularly when it comes to living with disability or chronic illness.But even only with the scenario of judging based on quality of life,  I worry that society may one day turn on the most vulnerable, and decide that their quality of life is so poor that it's not really worth putting resources into them, and the even scarier scenario of deciding at or before birth whether these people are worth 'keeping'. Now I realise this is slightly on the hysterical side, but I guess living on the edge with illness can cause dramatic mind wanderings at times :)

Mostly, my view on this is all taken up in how I see God seeing us, each one of us, 23 week baby or 91 year old cancer patient. We are valuable, we are loved and we are lovingly created to be in relationship with the God of the universe. I know it cannot be cut and dried, we cannot simply say 'everyone should be treated the same' but if there can be a view of value not based on quality of life and/or usefulness behind the decisions things may be different. Some may argue that we should leave things to take their natural cause, and that 23 week babies would never have survived before technology, but you could use this argument for any medical intervention. I wouldn't be alive if I'd been born 100 years ago, so that argument sits on somewhat shaky ground for me. The thing is, we have the technology, we have the expertise. Should we not use it?

But it's still not simple. The suffering the baby may go through undergoing such treatment is cited; but on the other side, we hear of the miracles, those 23 weekers getting through it and living delightful and loved lives (thanks to Mumsnet for many such testimonies). We cannot say that just because they may have disabilities they will not have good lives, we just cannot. Do ill people not deserve to live? Where can this line of thinking stop?

I realise I have asked a load of questions here, and not given answers. How can I? I feel wretched for the parents and wretched for the doctors. All I know for sure is that my father in heaven loves these tiny babies, and that they are people of value. In saying that, I can totally understand those parents who say it's time to let go, time to stop. I haven't walked in their shoes, and therefore I cannot make blanket statements about What Is Good or What God Wants.

I guess it all goes back to my mini mission: To speak for those whose voices have been dimmed, those who feel society has condemned them to a life of uselessness, those who feel they have no value because they cannot Do. May we never place a price on life, in whatever 'quality' that may be. May we simply be representatives of God's all encompassing love and grace, for all, in all times.

Is God a User?

There is a certain phrase prevalent among Christians (particularly a certain 'flavour' of Christians) which comes under what I call Christian Jargon-ese. Now this phrase is something I never really thought about or worried about until Adventure Bloke wrote his most excellent Master's Thesis. As I began to read his notes and engage with the subject I realised that the phrase was sitting more and more uncomfortably with me.

I therefore would like to issue a challenge to my Christian friends who find themselves using this language. Do the words 'God can use you' or 'God uses anyone' or 'God used me' (and so on) ever creep into conversation? Read a good many Christian books and you will find these words oft repeated. The thing is, the words are used <no pun intended> with all good intentions. The premise behind the language is of God loving us so much God works through each of us, whatever our gifts are. But I would like to look beyond the intention and examine the language a little.

Now, imagine you see the words 'he used her' in a newspaper article. What would be the emotion coming to mind? Would it be positive? No, because the phrase in common usage means something entirely different. When somebody is 'used' it usually means they are 'abused', 'discarded', 'worthless'. Hardly feelings we would like to be associated with how God sees us. The verb 'to use someone' is in fact incredibly rarely describing a positive event. It is much more often telling a story of brokenness, of rejection.

So where do we get it, and why do we say it? You may be surprised to find out that the bible never once tells of God 'using' somebody. Nothing. Nada. God working with, yes. God loving, even more. But using? Never.

What do our friends who don't share our beliefs think if they hear this language? Society pretty much only uses this verb with negative connotations attached. So banding round phrases such as 'God has used you so much!' may be having the opposite effect to what is intended. Who, after all, wants to be 'used?' (and my dear friends who are not Christians, I would love to hear your opinions on this :))

Now, one problem lies in the language, what we really mean, and how we can say it. I was talking with a dear friend the other day about this issue and we were sharing how easily it is said and how we need to find alternatives. We decided that a positive and meaningful alternative was possibly 'God partners with us.' This is a powerful representation of God working with us, God seeing us as valuable and giving us the choice to surrender to him so he can partner with us. Almost breathtakingly simple? Some of you, however, may be thinking about how 'God using me' language reflects us being totally open to God, saying for example 'I am totally giving my life to God, so I invite God to 'use' me however he wants.' Again, the intention works, and it can be difficult to find language that does the same job, but I still think it remains problematic. How can we say that God loves us and uses us in the same sentence? Can a God who loves be a God who uses? Well yes, if you say that 'uses' merely means God graciously working within what we have invited God to do. But no, if we want to engage with those around us and respect what such language may feel like to them.

I think there is another aspect to this too, something on a deeper scale. I wonder if the wording 'God can use us' implies that 'we need to be useful.' And I wonder if there is an unacknowledged presumption at the heart of it; a presumption that says 'we can only be used if we are useful', ie God can only work with us and through us if we are doing, if we are being of use in some way. Society reflects this to a certain extent - how many of us find that the first thing we are asked is 'what do you do?' From the point of view of someone who doesn't 'do' an awful lot due to illness, this can be destroying. And to wonder if I cannot be used by God because I cannot be useful, because I am Invalid, is a dark and scary kind of pattern of thought. Yet I think there is a subconscious level at which this does happen.

So I challenge you (and me): Chuck out the 'use' and chuck out the 'useful'. Let's liberate ourselves from the expression which may only be viewed negatively by some, and which may be at the root of insecurity for many followers of Christ. Let's be partners with God. How amazing would that be?

These are my very unformed thoughts, and I could witter for a while yet, but will stop here for now. I am fascinated by this issue and would be interested to hear thoughts on this, even those that tell me not to be so daft and over-thinking ;)

So, I wonder what other Christian Jargon-ese should go into Room 101? Answers on a postcard....