The Long Walk Home

Apologies for this. It’s just too addictive.

So, back to the thinking deeply part of this blog. I’d like to insert a note of caution to the lovers of theology out there, to those amongst us who work in the weird world of ‘Christian’ work (insert your own jargon tribal phrase for what the official title might be, eg ‘paid full time gospel ministry’;-). A note of caution on two fronts, which have been niggling at my brain and life for the last few days so you can share in them… if I’m going to be hassled to change, I don’t see why others shouldn’t share in that too. 🙂

1. We have to live this stuff out.
Sometimes I want to know less than I know. Because if I am not loving, if my character is not growing, if I am not cutting out sin in my life, living and breathing the reality of all I say to others, then what am I doing? It is easy to be a whitewashed tomb. Someone who says and does all the right stuff on the outside and yet has no love, no grace, no hope for anyone struggling along the way, no tenderness, no compassion, no humility. There has to be reality to our lives, depth, understanding of what walking as Jesus did really means. And maybe that will require less reading and more living. Knowing things in our head should deeply, deeply transform the way we live.

2. We are not all armpits.
You might say, yes Kath, I know I’m not an armpit. Bear with me. We are not all armpits. We are a body together made up of unique bits that aren’t made like other bits. I’m slowly (being a bear of little brain) coming to understand that I’m not a one man band.

I’m not even close. I’m Kath and I am good at some things and appalling at others. And that’s ok. Because there are other Christians out there who are better at other things than I am. We’re all different. It’s ok that I don’t have every gift out there, that when someone asks me why I am a Christian my mind goes blank and I wonder what the answer is, and it’s ok that I have some gifts, that I can tell people that God uses the weak and foolish things of this world and see their eyes light up because that means God can use them. But can we get on with appreciating that in each other? To spend more time working together and rejoicing in each others different gifts and personalities, rather than comparing with others, wishing we were someone else, being jealous, envious and proud.

Instead, we can get on with building each other up, delighting in the way God has made us all so brilliantly different. I might be an armpit, but you are a left toe, a right nostril, a small bone in the ear. Lets help each other in not just banging on about how great it is to be an armpit, so all the unarmpit like people feel small and rubbish, but to recognise the brilliance of being a left elbow. (ahem, clearly this body illustration is about to fall apart, but you get my drift). I need to stop wishing I was someone else and get on with being who I am where God has put me to be me. How hard it is to sing ‘If I were a butterfly’ with deep conviction, am I really thankful to Him for making me me?

This is my family. Examples of how faces can say so much to people who know them. These faces are part of my life, and part of what makes me me. I love this photo as it captures so much unsaid stuff that goes on in my family. At the back there is Mark, grinning smile masking the slightly uncertain wary look in his eyes, the questioning ‘what is she doing now?’. Then Mum and Dad, Mum on the verge of telling me not to be so silly, and Dad bemused as ever by the randomness of his daughter. I love the fact that a simple action, like me taking a photo of them, sparks off this reaction in their eyes and faces. All because I have told them to do something strange like, “Smile for the camera”.

1. I enjoyed the experience of Mission today.
2. I remembered that there is more to this world than the visible world.
3. Harold really needs to grieve. Shutting everyone out just won’t work forever.
4. Sleeping on a bad sofa gives me strange dreams of people dying through sofa attack. I kid you not.
5. The prospect of my own bed, clean sheets and a warm night in is almost too exciting.
6. I bought Ice Ice Baby from itunes. Oh dear.
7. Today I grinned all the way home because I’m loved, called and kept by the maker of the world. mm. (Jude 1 if in doubt)

Ok, ok, so I promised myself I’d not do this, but here goes. We’re live at the Portsmouth Mission. There you go. Anyway, before you hit the snooze button, I’m really talking about being back in the land of the student house. It’s an strange place to be back in, but this one is considerably tidier than I remember. Important things to note though are the large amounts of fairy lights, the ability to msn each other from every room in the house (things have changed since I was young…), birthday celebration posters from two months ago, random chipped mugs, bottles of wine from Christmas and the sad old brown furniture.

Things are different in studentville from when I was around though (old granny hat on). There are no more posters instructing me to CHOOSE LIFE, pictures of Pulp, Radiohead, the Telly Tubbies or Mr Men. It’s kind of sad. But awaiting me tonight there is a saggy brown sofa to sink into, and presumably a mouldy bathroom to have a morning shower in. Ah, some things don’t change. I like being a student worker, it means that I get to go back in time every now and again. Oh and the mission is going well too. Loads of people at Jazz and Curry tonight. I’m not hardcore and am returning to my own bed, house and saggy brown sofa tomorrow but it’s been grand to take a trip back into the student world.

To continue the student theme- presumably this isn’t true.