Line in the Sand

I haven't blogged for a good while. I'd kind of lost my blogging confidence, muttering such thoughts to myself as 'no one really wants to read your meanderings anyway' or 'people are just being nice.' You know the kind of stuff. So it got longer and longer since I blogged and I got less and less inclined to.

Added to that, my faith was taking somewhat of a bashing this year. Looking back, there was always a (wobbly) certainty and peace underneath it all, but certain events gave me extreme difficulty and I didn't do the thing that would help the most; ie pray more. I looked back on this year as a bit of a wasted time. Two hospital visits and numerous infections, severe shortage of spoons and general exhaustion took a lot of the life and strength out of me. I was functioning at a fairly good level for much of the year, feel settled into my new community with lovely new friends but something was missing. It seems my poor health ground me down to an extent that apathy and hopelessness often reigned somewhat.

Then there were a couple of things that happened to friends and friends of friends. The loss of beautiful children from senseless disease, the loss of jobs, the loss of faith, Much loss and no sense in it. I got bashed.

So I went to New Wine this year a little fearful, in all honesty, a bit bitter possibly? Wondering how I would cope with emphasis on physical wholeness and healing when this pain had pervaded much of the year for me and my friends and acquaintances. When God had blatantly not healed a 9 year old girl with Leukaemia despite the fervent prayer of thousands. What could I do with that at New Wine?

So it was with a certain amount of trepidation I went into the Impact venue on the first night. Wasn't sure how my bashed faith would cope with the intense worship and teaching, while knowing deep inside was a longing for such which I'd possibly squashed a bit of late.

I needn't have worried. I walked into that venue and that was it. God was there. Well, he's everywhere, yep, but he was just there in this huge and powerful and awesome and stunning way that slammed into me with force and left me trembling. I turned to Adventure Bloke and said something akin to 'oh. So there is a God, then' and then fell into the most amazing week where somehow everything came together and all was well.

Somewhere on that first night the lovely Nicole Brown sang a new song, 'Line in the Sand'. These words struck me as a line for me, between the bashing and the wastedness and the loss of confidence.
'There's a line in the sand, and this is the end, for all that is broken, we know you can mend, And this is the start, the start of the new. For our God is able and oh so good, so good.' In a rush I knew again the truth of this, our God is able, and good. I never really thought this wasn't true, but had lived in a difficult time of doubts and fears where the questions sometimes outweighed the answers.

I'm not saying that God makes all things OK again. He blatantly does not. Suffering happens. The world is broken and we all suffer the consequences of that. Grief, loss, pain and illness pervade the world. But there is a hope we can grab in the midst of it all, a knowledge that God did the ultimate - got in it and suffered too. Wow. This is what I hold to, this is why my life is a great adventure, because I have a purpose. As someone said to me this week, this year was not a wasted year in God's economy. I will keep on doing what I do and being who I am, a person with cacked up lungs, who still believes fervently in God's goodness and faithfulness.

I saw healings of all sorts, physically and emotional and spiritual, some pretty profound stuff. Actually God healed acute lung pain in me that was threatening to mess up the week big time. There was no denying it. I also saw many people who carry their diseases and disabilities with strength and grandeur and who touch lives of all those around them with their honesty and their transparent love of God. Amazing.

So it's a line in the sand for me, and I'm back blogging, whether anyone likes it or not ;)

Dear Nice Person......

Dear nice friendly person:

No, I don't feel fine. Thankyou for saying I am looking really well. I know that you are only trying to be kind and upbuilding. Unfortunately it reminds me of the fact that even when I feel sick people think I'm doing well, and therefore I must be putting it on.I know this is not the case, but I think it anyway.
I am sorry, nice friendly person, that I am not talking much back to you. It is kind of you to ask me all about things I am up to in my life and work but I am using my last bit of energy to breathe at the moment. I am not being rude to you, I would love to talk more, and feel so awful that I must be giving the impression of someone totally disinterested and ungrateful. Inside I feel sad. But I cannot form the words, today they are too tiring. Please read the Spoon Theory - you may get a glimpse of how it is. For now though, I wish I could say this to you. Be honest. But I smile, say I'm fine, and attempt to eke out a few words in response to your kindness. I then go, leaving you feeling like I'm pretty unfriendly. I am sorry. If you got to know me, you'd realise I'm quite nice really.

Dear lovely friend:

I'm sorry I couldn't hold a coherent conversation with you on the phone. I love chatting with you but worry you must think I don't want to be bothered with you, can't wait to get off the phone. I'm sorry. My pain is making it difficult to talk and draining energy for chat, and the drugs addle me somewhat. I'd love to have a good long girlie chat, but today I cannot. It's not you, it's me, and all that.

Dear Daughter and Daughter's friends:

I'm delighted you are having fun together today. I would love to be up and about making cakes for you and giving you drinks and making you feel welcome and at home. I am so sorry I'm huddled on the sofa under a blanket looking pretty rank. I worry about your impressions of me. I shouldn't. I wish, DD, that I could be a better Mum for you.

Dear Son:

I'd love to play games with you all day. I wonder if you think I don't care very much about you sometimes, when you've asked me and I've yet again said no. And when you've asked me for a story and I've said not tonight. Tonight I just haven't got the breath, DS. I love you so much and wish I could do more for you and with you. I'll read that story soon.

Dear Random Stranger:

Please don't ask me what I do, or suggest what I could do. OK? Thanks. :)

Dear Adventure Bloke:

I am so grateful I never have to pretend with you, or apologise for being ill. Not that I'd get away with such antics.

Dear God:

Thanks that you know all these things and all these thoughts and all these feelings. And I never have to pretend with you. And I know you're always with me.

Days Like These

So, what do I do with days like these?

Today is officially our Day Off, so I am officially allowed to relax. I also seem to have picked up a chest infection and feel that slight run-over-by-a-bus sensation, so that kind of puts a dampener on stuff like going out for lunch or mucking around the garden.

So why do I feel slightly guilty about....ahem....doing Nothing? I am poorly, but not poorly enough to be utterly laid out. If that was so, I would be nowhere near this puter. I am in an in-betweeny stage of poorliness, which is very annoying. There's a part of me telling me that I should be Being Productive, and not in the physio sense (Brussians will get this) But the other part saying chill, it's OK to Mumsnet all day, it's OK to watch rubbish daytime TV and it's OK to download more books onto my Kindle.

So on days like these, I need to find a way of being that doesn't make me feel bad about not doing stuff like starting to be Pioneer-ish. On days like these, perhaps it's OK to say that I have few spoons, so I will watch This Morning, drink tea and Be Happy.

Pondering on endings

So, we're in the very last week of school. Adventure Girl was sent off from Guides in style on Friday and Adventure Boy from Beavers yesterday. They both had mixed feelings; happiness from the love and care shown to them and the fun they've had, sadness from moving on. Adventure Boy says to me 'what if the new Beavers don't like me? Or don't do football?' Much as I can assure him they will, my feelings are with his, and I find myself thinking 'what if they don't like me? What if the school gate mums ignore me?' <Funnily enough, not 'what if they don't do football?>

It's such a time of bittersweet wonderings. Stoke has been amazing. I love the people here. I can only stand back in wonder and see what God has done. How can I go on from this place into the unknown? Especially to such a role - a church plant? Sometimes I'm overcome with excitement. More often, I'm left thinking 'what on earth are we doing?'

But today I am sad. The school week is crammed with last things. I can't get to many due to spoons being in short supply this week, but I'll do what I can. Tears are near!

It's not really an ending though, I suppose. It's all just part of God's great plan, and woven in with where we were before and where we will be next. A step on the journey. A stage in the Great Adventure. And so we can do it, we can embrace it, we can go for it.

But a little piece of me will always be in Stoke.

The Spoon Theory

It is hard to explain what it is like living with illness, especially when you often look so normal (well many friends may disagree on this one ;) ) This lady who has lupus has produced what is called 'The Spoon Theory' which conveys as well as anything can a little of what it can be like. For me, some days I start with very few 'spoons' and others have quite a lot, but there is always a limit, and once they're gone that's me done that day (you'll really have to read the link for any of this to make any sense!)

Days where my spoons are few (!) taking Adventure Girl and Boy to school may use them up entirely, and sometimes there are not even enough for that, and Adventure Bloke steps in and takes over, as he always does so gracefully. Has done today, in fact, as I assessed this morning that my spoon number may be somewhat low today.

I hope that goes some way towards explaining what it can be like?