The slightly controversial word: Obedience.

Posted on April 23, 2013 by Kath

obedienceWhilst at Word Alive last week we went to a couple of parenting seminars. They were very helpful in getting our heads around what we are trying to do in these first stages of the parenting world. Having someone else telling me that these first years are flipping hard work was deeply reassuring. The huge slap in the forehead was, however, the message that these first few years are all about obedience (EDIT – A slight over statement- I’m not saying these years are just about obedience by ANY stretch of the imagination, just that the seminar placed a large emphasis on obedience that made me think about this lots.)   I’m not very good at obedience, just ask my parents. I wasn’t very good at it about 30 years ago and I haven’t managed to get good at it as I’ve lived out my life. I used to think that made me cool and rebellious. I’m starting to discover that I need to love obedience so I can help my son love obedience.

The trouble is, as I write that, I wince at the words. Obedience is not cool. James Dean didn’t become an icon by obeying the rules. Everyone knows the prodigal son is the cool one in the story, he disobeys, comes back, is forgiven and everyone has a party. It’s in no way cool to be the older brother who sticks around, he was bound to get bitter and cynical right?

Hmm. Something needs to change in my heart to help me to realise that obedience isn’t such a bad thing after all.  I am called to be an obedient child to my Father after all, however much my rebellious heart wants to cry no.

I wonder why we hate the word and concept of obedience so much? For me it’s about not wanting to relinquish control, I think that obedience will lead to me having less of a life, less fun, less of everything. If I don’t get to do things my way all the time then I can’t conceive how that could be a good life. I also think that when we put obedience along with children in our head we come to all the wrong conclusions. We think it’s about shouting, being harsh, not listening to the child, not being empathetic, being dictatorial, being angry and imposing a stricter than necessary world upon a confused upset tiny human. We also fear what will happen to children who are taught to just do as they are told. There are a whole load of problems with the word.

I can’t decide whether we need to throw out the word all together or reclaim it. For me, as a Christian I can’t get away from the word, it’s right there in black and white in my Bible. I am called to obey God and children are called to obey their parents.

So lets go for the reclaiming option for the moment.

Obedience does not mean that we don’t empathise with our children, that we don’t say to them that we know that plug sockets are very interesting things to put fingers in, that we don’t offer alternatives to the thing they are so bent on doing that might just hurt them. It doesn’t mean we don’t explain why we are putting boundaries and rules in place, it doesn’t mean that we don’t get down on their level and help them through the many emotions going on as they get frustrated that they can’t get their way all the time. It doesn’t mean that we don’t apologise when we get it wrong, it doesn’t mean that our children can’t ask questions.

Obedience is a good thing to develop, it’s helpful for being able to get out of the house each day, for stopping children before they run head first into the path of oncoming cars and it’s helpful to create a world of routines and boundaries that is understandable to the tiny humans in our care. I want to help my son discover the world in safety, I want to help him through his emotions as he struggles to do as he is told, I want to be a helpful source of authority in his life, providing a world of love and support for him.

I’m still new to this whole world and I imagine I’ll revisit this when I actually start struggling with this with our small sonface. But for now I’m going to try and start to figure out that obedience can be a good thing, that we can reclaim this word, that living in God’s world, walking his way, obeying him is a good and wonderful thing.

I’m not quite convinced yet, I still hate the word so I think you’ll find some more posts around here struggling to find out how the command to obey can lead to a full rich life rather than the impoverished strange one I currently think it will lead to. I think I’ll try and start with working out how obeying God can be the best thing we could do… Watch this space.

(Disclaimer: I realise that this is a huge can of worms and the word obey has all sorts of negative reactions in us for a whole load of reasons. These are my baby thoughts on the subject.  I want to believe it’s possible to reclaim it. Do you think that’s possible at all in a world that equates obeying with obeying harsh commands or horrible things happening to children who are taught to do as they are told…?)

(oh and great to have the lovely Jason illustrate this again)

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On writing.

Posted on April 20, 2013 by Kath

IMG_1196It’s Saturday morning and the sun is shining. I feel the need for one of those checking in with myself posts, one of those looking around at the view posts.

This morning the boys are out with some other guys from church being manly (eating a fry up and pottering over the downs). The flat is full of sunshine and cool breezes from the open windows. In about half an hour a friend is coming over for brunch and I shall be able to talk without a small squirming thing to keep an eye on. I’m sitting at the new desk my Dad built for us.  Sadly the very lovely old writing desk had to go to make way for this new upgrade which is better suited to our purposes and possible future computer options. For now it’s a sleek space to store helpful office things and a smaller space to sit at and write. For that is what I shall do here.

I’ve found myself all too often in the last few weeks being uber jealous of others book deals, writing opportunities, ability to communicate over the internet about big things and build up audiences etc. The time has come to stop being jealous, stop comparing with others, stop worrying about how many people find my thoughts wonderful and get on with being me, here in this space.  I’ve come to the conclusion that once more I must find time to write because, as I’m coming to own, I am a writer. I process my thoughts through words typed on a screen. I am a writer. I don’t want to write to impress others, to proclaim my profound thoughts to all and sundry, to think more highly of myself than I ought.  I want to write because it’s fundamental to who I am, as much as my love of deep conversations that swim the depths, as much as my delight in cups of tea, as much as my love of standing on top of mountains and dancing for joy.

I write, I write, I write. And this weird old world of the internet means that others can join in the conversation and know that they too are not alone in these thoughts, ideas and ponderings of life.

I write because I have always written, from poems and thoughts when younger, to meandering introspective journals as a teenager and student (thank God that the internet was still in it’s slow down when America gets online and geocities are cool phase when I was at Uni) to the world of blogging which I’ve been doing for 8 years on and off now. I write because if I don’t my head goes crazy and I forget the lessons I should recite over and over until they stick. I write because I want to know that I am not the only one. I write because I cannot articulate these thoughts verbally. I write because I must.

I’ve been gradually realising this over the years.  I wrote this a while ago which says all I’m trying to say:

She was always a wordsmith. Always a writer, Always someone who wanted to put things down in words. To write. To see that words can sometimes express, pull into the light and wash down ideas concepts truths and reality. To see from different angles, to express all these thoughts that swirled around her head.

She’d always been a writer. And wanted to see if others might benefit from these thoughts, from the way she expressed the old old story, from identifying with the struggles and joys of walking through this life.

So there you go, nothing new here, just a marker along the way to say, yes I must write. I must make space in these crazy weeks to sit at this desk and press fingers to keys to create.

(Future Kath- are you listening? Have you done this? I know you are my most avid reader so seriously, if you haven’t, go now, make a call, get someone to look after the boy for a couple of hours and write dammit.)

Oh and many thanks to my wonderful Dad for making this space possible, and encouraging my weird poetry all those years ago, making me think that what was inside me was worth reading.

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Thoughts from Word Alive…

Posted on April 14, 2013 by Kath

Nwa 2013Life at Word Alive is very different these days, especially when you can remember coming to a conference on and off for 20 years – things are bound to change over the decades.

I’ve come as a snotty moody teenager, a student, student team member, coming from the working life, back on the student team helping shape the student tracks, normal punter and this year was my first as a parent.

Its easy to grow cynical at the whole weird strangeness of a whole bunch of Christians being in one place for a week and believe me I’ve been there lots over the years.  Lately though its come to feel a bit like a hearty healthy meal. We stayed off site which helped us not get overloaded with all the things we could do. We had a tiny human to look after which again limited choices but the stuff we went to feels like it has been good for our souls.

This year there wasn’t a whole load of new information to be absorbed, there weren’t really any lightbulb moments or revelations of the next area of life to be cleaned up as in the past when I’ve come here.  What we heard has felt like a nourishing meal. The old old story has been doing it’s work again.

It was wonderful to sit in a talk without a squirmy thing on mine or husbandface’s laps. It was good to hear of a cup, a cross and a God who takes my sin away and enables me to be in his family. It was good to remember again who I am and what we are doing in this world. It was good to have our boy looked after for an hour and a half whilst we did that.

It was good to see others on the journey here and it was good to be in a place where there are many people who believe in this stuff. As someone who is easily swayed by the majority it’s good to remember our minority isn’t as small as I think sometimes. It was good to know God is wonderful and works in many places in many ways.

I think we’ve returned with more hope, refreshed by some space away from the boy each day and we plunge back into life in Brighton aware that there is a God who is at work in this world, who loves us and won’t let go of us. Phew.

(My brain is clearly malfunctioning, husbandface is sitting next to me as I edit this scrappy piece of writing, proffering ‘helpful’ suggestions as to how my writing could be improved. Sigh. One day I’ll find my mojo again… One day. In the meantime apparently I could make better use of the comma. Pah.)

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Sunday

Posted on March 31, 2013 by Kath

dawnDawn. Resurrection morning

The tomb is empty.

Tears are shed. Where is he?
Not here in the place of the dead.
Not here in darkness and gloom.

Here speaking hope in a garden.
Here on a bright sunny morning on a beach, waves crashing out joy on a shore with fish roasting on the fire.
Here in an upper room filled with confusion.
Here on a road, breaking bread, spinning tales of battles won.

Here. He is here.

And suddenly everything has changed.

New life is possible. Hope is more than wishing it lives and breathes and dwells amongst us.

The unthinkable has come true. Death is dead. The trail blazes across the sky for us to follow and dance in. We have a future. There is more than this pale frail world in front of our eyes. There is a world of wonder and newness guaranteed to us by the one who is the first born of that world.

Our hope is not in vain. Our hope is not in vain. Our hope is not in vain.

We can dance in the sparkly sun of this morning because joy will come, because this is not the end. Because he calls us to come and have breakfast with him.

So stand tall today. In the midst of the pain of this life light has forced its way in and will not be quenched. Stand tall. Dance over mountains, sing loud shouts, breathe the clear refreshing air of resurrection day.

“Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen!”

“Death has been swallowed up in victory.” “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

“Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.”

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Saturday.

Posted on March 30, 2013 by Kath

And this is the stillness.
This is the quiet in-between.
The moment when creation held it’s breath and we stopped.

Some wondered, some watched.
Some stood and gasped out tears in
This space, empty and full.
Despairing and yet tinged with the refrain of hope.

Hope in what yet might be.
Hope in a tomorrow.
Hope in words lost in the noise.
Hope in the straining to hear the whisper of
A promised return.

We live our Holy Saturdays in this world, full of despair and yet with the hope that only knowledge of the end of the story could bring. We wait in shadows with the women who followed Jesus, we cry and run with the disciples and yet we know the end to this night. We know that dawn will come. Not as an easy platitude that will erase the darkness but as the only light in this world that lasts. Even in the deepest darkness, beyond our feelings, senses or reason remains a solid unquenchable deep truth that holds our life together. Not hiding from the pain but digging to something that goes deeper than this present darkness.

And so we keep walking, we live out our days, until he comes. Until he comes.

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