Daddy

"Daddy!"

I cried in the deepest darkness night

and Daddy came

with evil in his heart

and lust in his eyes.

"Daddy!"

I cried when I fell and hurt

and Daddy came 

with poker

and with broom handle.

"Daddy!"

I cried.

But Daddy had no kind word

No arms to hold me

No healing

and no comfort.

"Daddy!"

I cry in the deepest darkest night

And Daddy God comes

with Grace in his heart

and love in His eyes.

"Daddy!"

I cry when I fall and hurt

and Daddy God comes

with arms opened wide

and a gentle smile.

"Daddy!"

I cry

And Father God has kind words

and arms to hold me

Healing

Comfort 

Redemption.

O Love That Will Not Let Me Go.

Darkness falls around me

Like a shroud

Clawing, cloying

like recent death.

Trying to convince me that

nothing is worth it

I am not worth it.

BUT

A still small voice

whispers

Light is not extinguished

Hope is not lost

Love is not impossible

Life is worth living.

I am not pointless

I am not worthless

I am not hopeless.

I am a Child of God

Radiant

Beautiful

Made Clean

Made Whole

Made Holy

We are Loved 

beyond measure

beyond reason

beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Jesus love will not ever let us go.

Greenbelt 2012 and the never-ending story.

Last year towards the end of August I amongst many hundreds attended the Greenbelt Christian Arts Festival held at Cheltenham Race course.
At the beginning of August the youngest of my three older brothers took his own life.
I arrived at Greenbelt in crisis and went downhill from there.
I would say I had four states during the four days of the festival. They were: self-destruct, drunk, crying and suicidal.
All my defences were at zero. My 'internal policeman' had abandoned her post. I was a mess.
What I needed was a friend or two to pull me out of the pit and hold me while the storm raged.

I freely confess  that my behaviour at times was shameful. I drank too much and engaged in conversations that were far from Holy. I related poorly to people and allowed my inner flirt free unencumbered egress.
I felt totally out of control and frightened myself as my ability to hold myself together weakened.

Finally Dan held out a lifeline and I took it. Slowly I began to get myself under control as the storms began to quieten.

I spent a lot of time with God when we returned home. Allowing Him to gather the broken pieces I watched as He cleaned each piece making them shine like new before He put them back into place.
There are still some pieces that need attention. God is not through with me yet. God is restoring me, healing me, forgiving me on a daily basis.

Sadly because of my vulnerability I have to let go of some things that are important to me.

In the sermon today we were reminded that God called and used adulterers, murderers, liars and even the dead. It seems that even though God still calls the vulnerable, the weak and the screw up - rehabilitation within Church sometimes needs time to be fully realised.

I allowed the bits of me that are usually hidden to be seen. I allowed those I thought were trustworthy to see the woundedness and the darkness at the very depth of my soul.
My inabilty to keep these things under wraps at a time of great pain and confusion means that I am less far along the Healing and Wholeness journey than I thought I was.

So I remain on the outside looking in. This is where I have always been. Perhaps after all this is where I belong.

May God Bless You.

May God Bless you 

with discomfort at easy answers, 

half truths and superficial relationships, 

so that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you 

with anger at injustice, 

oppression and exploitation of people, 

so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.

May God bless you 

with tears to shed for those who suffer pain, 

rejection, hunger and war, 

so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and turn their pain into joy

And may God bless you 

with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in the world, 

so you can do what others claim cannot be done 

to bring justice and kindness to everyone.

This is what it means to live honestly and with integrity. To feel the pain of those who suffer and give voice to the voiceless. To be dissatisfied with the usual platitudes and worthy advice.

I may stand alone at the end of my life, having frightened everyone away with the intensity of my song. But I will sing.

I will sing of aching abuse and frightened children. I will sing of cancer and suicide. I will sing of families torn apart and of individuals so wrapped in hate they no longer see the light.

And I will sing of a Man, born in an animal shed. A man who preached Love and healed the broken with a gentle Word and a firm touch. I will sing of the Man hanging broken and humiliated on a wooden cross. I will sing of His Love for this world. His Love for the broken and the misused. For the overlooked and underused. I will sing of His love for the Victim and the terrorist. 

I will sing until Heaven is a reality in this place. I will sing until I cannot sing anymore.

I may be alone - but I don't think so.

Life is full of disappointments

I have just had a long chat with the Vicar. The upshot of which is that I will not now be involved with the first wave of Missional Communities.

My response to my brothers death has somehow made me unsuitable to be involved for fear that my issues may damage the discipleship group.

This feels wrong to me and I am struggling to understand the reasoning.

I understand that this particular group is not the right place to explore or work through my issues. I understand that I need to do that elsewhere.

The group was, I thought, a place to begin serious discipleship and authentic relationships. It seems my honesty has somehow excluded me.

Jesus called the broken, the weak, the downright unsuitable and turned their lives around. He calls us still but some areas still seem to be off limits.

I am hurt and sad all over again. This process of engaging with Missional Communities was, for me, an opportunity to finally build the kind of relationships with others and with God that I have so far only dreamed about. A chance to truly be Christ to one another. Sadly though I am for now being excluded from that opportunity and being placed instead in the needy category.

I shouldn't be surprised. It always happens. I get along fine but as soon as I let people into the vulnerability at the heart of my soul I am judged differently. Suddenly I am the problem to be managed and not the potential resource to be utilised. I am once again framed in terms only of my need and not what I have to offer.

I know he will not see it like that even though he makes the effort to see it from my point of view he cannot grasp the magnitude and the significance of what his decision really means for me.

I feel that Jesus has invited me to the feast but the doorman wont let me in.

I could rant and rave - and believe me the six year old in me has having an almighty tantrum - but it wont move me on and I could live without the resulting headache.

The thing is I have to trust him because if I cant trust him then I cant stay here and here is where I am meant to be. I have to trust the Vicar and I have to trust God and believe that they are in fact working together for my good.

I know, deep in my being, that He who began a good work in me will see it through to completion. (that's from the Bible but I am pants at remembering chapter and verse.)

I have to believe he is using Dan to move that process along.

A year in a day.

Wow. A whole year and a little bit has gone by and I have not blogged.
 Why?
 I dont know - I love my blog - have depended on it - have stayed close to friends and made new ones through it and yet...

 Time has just slipped away.

 I have so many dreams and hopes and aspirations but so often they just look like so much dust and debris at my feet. Easier to brush them away then try to engage and make them beautiful.

 2012 began as a year full of hope but became a year of sadness and struggle.

 In August, while on holiday with the family, my brother - the youngest of the three, took his own life.

We are still awaiting the inquest but the reasons are clear.

 Raymond was injured whilst in the army and lived his life through the haze of pain and prescription meds. He couldnt work and on some days could barely function because of the pain in his back.
 His wife left him - years of trying to put up with mood swings and outbursts.
The twins went with her and he was heartbroken.
I think he just got to the point where life physically and emotionally was too much for him and he chose how to end it.

 I was doing ok until then but the suddenness of his death frightened me.
I wondered if I would be next - if the curse of my birth family would track me down and extinguish all hope. I wobbled, I lost it for awhile and gave my Vicar plenty to worry about. I was, in short, a mess.

 BUT I have some amazing friends - some I met whilst blogging and have never laid eyes on but are as much a part of my story now as those I see every day. Some who I have only a little contact with through moving away and our lives moving on. Some who are physically close.

All in their way held me - physically, emotionally, spiritually - until the shaking subsided and I was able to find by feet.

 I learned that my foundations are no longer built on the shifting sands of the family I was born into.

 I have been adopted into a new family with foundations built on solid rock. I am a daughter of the living God and a princess in the Royalist of royal families. I have a new name and a new purpose.

Whatever life conspires to throw at me I remain rooted and grounded in Love.

This is not a magic wand. I live with deep pain and sorrow and sometimes I wonder if this is my cross to bear.
I have lost two siblings to death and many other family members through misunderstanding, suspicion, unforgiveness and hate.
There are relationships I think will never be healed and I mourn the loss.

 So 2013?

 So far, so good.

 I am learning to drive and I am hopeful that I will be able to drive myself to Greenbelt 2013.

 I am considering getting a tattoo (or two) - a part of finally feeling that I can be me. I have happy days. The kids drive me to distraction but they also crease me up in laughter.

The sorrow though is like a constant companion. I will seek some counselling but I am not sure if this is something that can be talked away or worked through. Perhaps it is just mine to accept.

 I resolve to blog more - its good for me - even if no-one stops by.