Why I Blog

For most of my life I told myself that I couldn’t write, ashamed of my stumbling words. I’m the person that avoids writing in a birthday card, through fear of spelling my own name wrong . ( yes that’s more than possible ).
My dyslexia holds my silent unspoken conversations . My stumbled unformed words stay locked within my heart. Unexpressed these words will eventually die. Each little wordy death takes some of my self confidence to its grave.

But then something happened.

Grief and pain that was so overwhelming I felt the only way to express these emotions was to write. The spelling and grammar just did not matter, what was important was finding an outlet for this pain.
Slowly I wrote, it was as if God was releasing all those dead words trapped in my heart. Each misspelt, badly pronounced word was finding its place in the world.
Each wrongly placed full stop, capital letter was typed up and shared on my newly published faith blog.
I am not being overly dramatic when I say that my life has never been the same since.
Something happened during the writing process that freed me from the pain of locked in words, I started to face my fears.
Each piece of writing had its own unique journey as years of frustrations were poured into cyberspace.

I don’t have what I would call natural talent. I can’t go from idea to blog in some quick effortless way. But if I take the time use and technology, I can write.
I’m am a writer.
My blogs have grown from a mumbled outpourings of grief to deep personal almost coherent reflections of my life with Jesus .
I am proud of my writing . I’ll never be William P. Young, in part because I am not. . I am Lindsay. With my own unique way of writing, which is given to me as a gift from God.

Blogging has enabled me to share how God has impacted, transformed and changed my life. Telling my story, sharing the love of Jesus in my ordinary every day.

Faith blogs are the new way to take the Gospel to the people. More and more people are turning to the online world to find answers and information on a variety of topics – including Jesus.
We are no longer bound by the confines of our postcode because the Internet makes it possible for us to connect with others literally around the planet!

My own blog “ it’s a beautiful word “ is its own little miracle because in doing it, I discovered, not what I couldn’t do, but what I could do. I stopped listening to that voice that told me I can’t do this and instead listened to the voice that said well done! With each person that viewed liked and commented on my blog came a sense of pride.
I had a voice… and .I would quickly learn that this voice came responsibilities.
Comments, messages and emails from those responding to my writing was a overpowering beautiful privilege, one that I could have never foreseen.

Today I see myself, not as someone incapable of writing, but as a wobbly voice, sharing the wonders and beauty of creation . God has once again helped me to see myself as I truly am, a gardener of creation with a gift to tell and share my story. To teach others the joys and treasures to be found in Gods beautiful garden.
Each blog is a tiny fraction of who I am, but each blog is a source of joy, and of pride, for in that moment I discover what it means to share the love of God to the listening hunger world.

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Ackiba’s creed.

WE BELIEVE in one master weaver.
Who shapes and intertwines
The stories of the Gospels held
Within our chocolate vine.

We are woven into creation.
Rooted in the ground .
We are the princess of the mountains .
Walking towards the promised land.

We have held Moses in his basket.
Journeyed down the Nile.
Long tendrils lead us to your vision.
Signposting us the way.
Reaching for the light.
Through him all things were made.
We have held bread and fishes.
Shared the jug of Red wine.
Please listen to our story.
As we weave through your time.

These are stories of salvation.
Of prophets, people and kings.
And all of the one God that knows everything.

Dancing through the seasons.
Weaving flowers, leaves and vines.
We might not always see .
Just how these weavings intertwine.

Supported by the Trellis of Pentateuch.
Hang Chocolate leaves of Grace and Goodness.
We believe as we climb through the Gospels.
Are woven into the psalms.
You weave us to your completion.
It’s your shape, your stories .
That we intertwine.

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Wrestling with compost.

It’s strange how certain activities trigger memories that unlock a world I have yet to understand. Physical actions gently push my mind, nudging my world closer to the words that I struggle to comprehend. Words that need to find a place in my heart. Require a practical understanding so I can relate to them in my own way. So I can learn to pronounce, remember and recognise them. To understand what they mean to me and others. I need that word to become visual almost tactile to revival something of it’s self to me. It’s a slow often frustrating way of learning. Taking time with just one word, allowing it to guide me in practical way.
The word Koinonia came into my life this week. I must have heard it before but for some reason I locked onto the word and tried to unpick what it means to me.
I discovered my answers while wrestling with a large heavy bag of compost. It sounds the most unlikely of places but together my faith joined my gardening world and made their magical connections to Koinonia.
I was taught at horticultural college to shake, turn and mix a bag of compost before opening it. It’s hard heavy work that I often question. I wonder how many other people get hot and bothered turning over these brute sized bags? Theirs no written notice on the bag “ exhaust yourself by shaking and mixing bag before use”.
Yet I know by putting in this effort my seeds/plants get the best compost to grow in. In the wrestling I mix all the nutrients and soil types within the bag. Ensuring my little seeds have everything they could possibly need to grow.
I never lose the wonder in planting seeds. It’s the endless possibilities, a unison between the creator and creation. My role is to mix compost, seeds, water and love together.
It’s that mixing that connected me to koinonia. It’s a community of love in which we grow. Its a seamless interchange of mutual love which unites the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. The more we live in communities of love, the more we can grow into the image and likeness of God who created us.
It’s that powerful incredible linked togetherness with others and God, at the same time being profundity at one with nature.
We are together as a family, as community. Expressing our need to be feed nourished fed and healed by God who is a community of love.
When wrestling with my compost bags, I mix love. Providing that micro community within my glass house. A community that loves, feeds and nurtures my seeds.
We are not as good as we could be at mixing ourselves. I never realised just how much we must move and mix within and outside of our community in order to grow.
Sitting in the same seat in church each week, doing the same things can slow down our growth, and the growth of those around us.
Sitting in the same seat has a lot todo with habit. When we do the same nothing changes, we expect the same.
Moving and mixing is difficult, it challenges us to sit among different people. To get to know someone new, to see a different perspective, to notice things we have never seen before.
When I walk into church this Sunday, I will sit somewhere different. Challenge myself and those who sit with me to change seats each week. Making us more open to change and growth. Mixing with those we do not know.
Maybe in that mixing we will build a stronger community. A Community that together can reach out to heal our wounded planet. A Community of love that grows flowers and fruits in likeness of God who created us.

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Hebrews 10:24-25 The Message (MSG)
22-25 So let’s do it—full of belief, confident that we’re presentable inside and out. Let’s keep a firm grip on the promises that keep us going. He always keeps his word. Let’s see how inventive we can be in encouraging love and helping out, not avoiding worshiping together as some do but spurring each other on, especially as we see the big Day approaching.

One big long emotional prayer.

A wooden cabin located in the Somerset country side was our home for the weekend.
This beautiful location with its own private garden was a safe place to off load the burdens that we carry. Two friends on a weekend date with God.
We gave ourselves permission to be real, not just with each other but also to God. We talked about pain and fears. Being open without the slightest fear of judgement, knowing that we are loved.
The weekend was best described as one big long emotional prayer.
It was weekend of giving to God in a way that I have never really experienced before. I started to understand that the gifts I have do not belong to me or the church, but to God.
Gifts that have been freely given to me with the purpose of using them to help others, to praise God in my actions.
I experienced how astoundingly powerful just being with someone can be. How sharing and preparing food together is an act of gratitude, knowing that we are fed by God.
It was strangely exhausting, An emotional exhaustion that is almost neutralised with prayer and love.
As I listened, prayed and journeyed with my friend I grew too.
I showed myself that I can lead prayer. I can pray with someone that’s hurting and make a difference.
Showing my love the only way I knew how. Grounded in the ambulance of natural beauty that surrounded us. I shared the love that residues in my heart. We both felt that peace and love that comes from God.
The prayers we shared were personal and a beautiful reflection of our friendship. The loose itinerary planned pushed us both in many different ways but at no point did we feel uncomfortable.
Journeying with my friend giving her space to be with God, to share Gods love for us was a privilege.
To listen to her story, to be trusted with her thoughts and to share her prayers was friendship at its best.
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1 Peter 5:6-7 The Message (MSG)
6-7 So be content with who you are, and don’t put on airs. God’s strong hand is on you; he’ll promote you at the right time. Live carefree before God; he is most careful with you.

Our stories of struggle.

Day 25 – Lent Challenge – live.

My Mother’s day stall has reminded how much I still need to cry out to God. Reminded me of how far I have come.
Mothering Sunday ended in tears. Emotions were high after the Sunday evening church service. The mother’s day run away service was a place to lay bare my pain, placing it in front of God. It was painful and exhausting; a place to just be, to cry out surrounded by friends, to fall apart in the warmth of the church, a place to be held, a safe place to ask why?
No need to pretend, no false smiles. A whole precious peaceful hour to just be. A hour carved out of a busy day to acknowledge it hurts. To lament and invite the God who loves us into our stories of struggle.

Today’s blog is to my great auntie. A lady that faced grief alone, she settled for simply surviving the pain and challenges that come her way. Her life stopped she turned away from her faith, she bottled it up. She refused to even enter the church. Angry she set herself a path in life that God was no longer a part of. Going it alone she had no one to share her pain with. No one shout out to. When we we turn away from God and those that support us our lives change as does the way we live.

This blog is also a thank you for those that understand our grief, come to us in our pain. For those that acknowledge life is hard. For those that plan and organise services that give us the space to safely fall apart.

On remembrance Sunday last year in the church where auntie was baptised, I shared Auntie and Jacks story. I am going to share it with you too.

Jack
Each year I trace the bronze words spelling out your name on the war memorial. It’s tracing the letters that connects me with you and your story. You were aunties first husband and her one true love.
You worked as a farm labourer and married my Auntie in the December of 1939.
I don’t how long you had together before you were enlisted but I guess not long.
Auntie was a war time bride, widowed within 5 years.

Gunner 1086881 172 field reg royal artillery was killed in action on the 20th January 1943 age 32.
Your story is also aunties story – you see Auntie was never the same after losing you.
She remarried in 1946. She never removed your wedding ring, placing the 2nd wedding ring on top of yours.
As a child I would sit on her lap and be fascinated by the two rings how they sat together. The rings had become almost one but with my small fingers I could separate them into two.
Even as a child I understood the questions I wanted to ask were to two painful for her to answer .
She never talked about the pain and the loss, it was all locked away unspoken like so many.
I grew up knowing the story of you going of to war and never coming back.
I would look at your photo framed in the front room. The room that was never used. The strange blue sofa that was never sat on. In the room that you never came back to.
Auntie just she carried on, remarried and had a different life. She longed for the children which never came and a husband that never came back from the war.
Auntie carried the scars of war with her for the rest of her life.

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Matthew 11:28-30 The Message (MSG)
28-30 “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

Comforting powerful words.

Day 16 -Lent challenge 2018 – Stillness.

One of the things that has really helped me find my faith is all the little seeds of faith planted by the wonderful community and family that surrounded me as I grew up.
Today’s blog is a thank you to our next door neighbour for teaching me Psalm 23.
I don’t have many memories of her. But I do remember her dark brown doors with high handles that I could reach but my younger sister could not.
Being in the garden while my mum and next door where both hanging out the washing. They Stopped to chat over the fence,the excited conversation about the pope visiting England. I had never next door so excited before.
But most of all I remember my visits to her house, when she would take down Psalm 23 and recite it to me and my sister.

When my life became full of pain it was Psalm 23 that gave me such hope and strength. The words that where once forgotten became alive. Comforting powerful words backed up by a strong healing message wrapped in Gods unconditional love.
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Psalm 23 King James Version (KJV)

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Greek Holiday 1989.

Day 14 – Lent Challenege 2018- Journey.

This year I am following a 12-month Bible reading plan.
The Journey through Acts sent me on a physical journey to the loft. After lots of rummaging through suitcases I finally found my Greek holiday journal from 1989.
This Journal is full of memories of a fabulous trip to Athens followed by a cruise around the islands.
It’s great to see my photos of the places mentioned in my Bible readings . The places I visited as a teenager are helping me today. Joining up my worlds making the Bible come alive .

Years later my travelling companion introduced me to my husband, supported me through pregnancy loss. When her beautiful baby daughter was baptised she choose me to be one of her God parents.
It’s a massive hug of thanks to my friend of many many years.

Acts 17:16 Good News Translation
While Paul was waiting in Athens for Silas and Timothy, he was greatly upset when he noticed how full of idols the city was.

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Acts 21:1 Good News Translation
We said good-bye to them and left. After sailing straight across, we came to Cos; the next day we reached Rhodes, and from there we went on to Patara.

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Acts 19 Good News Translation
While Apollos was in Corinth, Paul traveled through the interior of the province and arrived in Ephesus.

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Revelation 1 Good News Translation
9 I am John, your brother, and as a follower of Jesus I am your partner in patiently enduring the suffering that comes to those who belong to his Kingdom. I was put on the island of Patmos because I had proclaimed God’s word and the truth that Jesus revealed.

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My One Word.

New year resolutions always seem so full of promise. The reality is they often are long forgotten by February.
From childhood my new years resolutions have always included to stop sucking my thumb.
The reality is this will never happen . The comfort my thumb gives me far out ways the new years resolution. It’s my built in ability to calm and relax myself at any place and time. Why would I want to stop !

“My one word is an experimental idea to move beyond the cycle of broken resolutions. The challenge is simple instead of making unrealistic challenges – You pick one word to focus on every day all year .
One word that sums up who you want to be or how you want to live.

For 2018 my one word is patience .
God is patient , I am not. I have a acknowledged my lack of patience many times over 2017.
The patience of God is staggering, I think of all the times God has been so close to me yet I failed to look.
God is patient towards me as he refines, develops and strengthens me.
I thank God for the patience that is shown to me by others. The patience that at times I do not deserve.
I will blog more on patience as I explore what it means to me.

2 Thessalonians 3:5
And may the Lord direct your hearts into the love of God, and into the patient waiting for Christ.

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Meeting  Destiny .

Three things happened this week.

I meet Destiny
I built a cardboard wall of Jericho
Had to make a big decision.

I sat with Destiny chatting stringing beads together making bracelets. I made her a Yellow bracelet with the words “ you are amazing “. I made myself a bracelet with the words “No fear in love”.

Destiny explained to me the meaning of her name. We talked about fate and destiny what it meant to us. Destiny excitedly told me her life plan, how she was going to be a fashion designer making Yellow clothes.  She explained to me that as I was already grown up I must be doing what my destiny had planned for me.
It was a big conversion to have with 8 years old. I  think it was a conversation that Destiny enjoyed and has many times over when she meets people for the first and proudly tells them her name.
It was a privilege to meet Destiny. Reflecting on our time together I got an email that required a lot of thought in its reply. My instant reply was  No, I can’t do this.
I have had enough given up let fate take control. I have no control or influence it will only open myself up to more pain.
Whatever happens, happens, and I  can’t do anything about it. Apparently, this is called “fatalism,” and it is not biblical.

I prayed my problems holding the bead bracelet that I made with Destiny. It’s  words spelling out “ No fear in love “.
I asked myself the question is fear saying no?  Am I  just sheltering myself from pain? Am I looking for a place to escape the harsh reality of this meeting and the consequences it might bring?
Running is not going to help, I need to face the pain and the system that caused it.

Still undecided about what I should do I set about the task of preparing my cardboard box wall of Jericho for the children’s group Bible story.
The higher I  built the wall the more I thought about the fun and laughter we would have as I told the children  Joshua’s story. I planned that we would march around the church  7 times shouting, blowing trumpets than knocking down the cardboard box wall.

The message I wanted the children to hear is we need to listen to God. I am going to tell the children the importance of listening to God when today I am too scared to listen myself.

“The walls of Jericho were so thick that chariots could be driven on them. Joshua knew that they could not conquer the promised land until they conquered Jericho. There were many more obstacles in front of Israel. There were many cities to be taken, but Jericho was the greatest obstacle to everything God wanted for them. It was the gateway to their destiny”

As  I prepared the cardboard boxes for the children to knock down I saw my problem as my Jericho wall. It’s one of many walls that I have met on my journey it’s a big wide wall that has until now always been in the distance. Like Jericho, it’s strong scary but it’s my gateway to my destiny.

I need to confront the obstacles in front of me overcome them. Resisting the temptation to walk away, not to compromise.  This is not just about me, I don’t want other families to go through the pain we have. People need to be seen as people and not a piece of paperwork that can be moved from office to office desk to desk.
I am a person with hopes and dreams and with a heart that wants to keep on loving and giving.
We live in a physical world apply and judge on what we can see.  I need to be seen and heard.
It’s the world that is of God that is important to me.  This meeting is not a battle to be won, no winners or losers.
By being honest and open with them. I pray that at as a big organization they will take the time learn by their mistakes and listen to me with their hearts before they make their decisions.

I can only do this because Jesus is with me. When I walk into the room tomorrow It’s with Jesus. I will never be alone again, When I cried out he came to me. The gifts he has given me are the only reason can do this. Fighting for justice I can start to see the suffering and the pain is for the greater good.
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1 Peter 5:7The Message (MSG)
6-7 So be content with who you are, and don’t put on airs. God’s strong hand is on you; he’ll promote you at the right time. Live carefree before God; he is most careful with you.

Thank you Mister God for rest .

Day Thirty – Retreat – Lent challenge .

Mister God  this is Anna brought me to tears , it’s a moving beautiful true story about a runaway little girl and the young man who brought her home like a stray puppy in the 1930s. It’s about faith  love and friendship and Mister God, and all the things Anna taught Fynn before she died, and one or two things she taught him after.

I want to share my favourite bit of the book with you it just reminds me that I need to rest and  give my brain time to untangle the muddle and recharge .

Mum had this lovely gift of asking questions that landed somewhere .
what , she asked us one Sunday afternoon ” What was God’s greatest creative act?”
Anna was watching her intently in chin cupped in hands . There they sat , looking at each other , Mum with her wonderful smile and Anna with her intense look.
Suddenly it happened . Anna slowly placed her hands on the table and pushed herself upright . She gasped ” it was the seventh day of course ”
I don’t get it, I said . ” God worked all his miracles in six days and than shut down for a bit of a rest . What’s so exciting about that ?
“Why did Mister God rest on the seventh day ? “She began.
“I supposed was a bit flaked out after six days hard work” , I answered .
” He didn’t Rest because he was tired though.”
“Oh – didn’t he ?it makes me tired just to think about it all ”
” course he didn’t . He wasn’t tired .”
“Wasn’t he?”
” No – he made Rest.”
” Oh .He did that did he?”
” yes that’s the biggest miracle. Rest is . What do you think it was like before Mister God started the first day ?”
“A perishing muddle I guess”. I replied .
” yes, and you can’t rest when everything is in a big muddle , can you?”

My place to retreat / rest is my garden it’s  a quiet outdoor space where I found God  and feel his presence , it’s a place to reflect,  appreciate the silence the beauty and the spiritual  feeling my garden brings to me and to others .

Thank you Mister God for rest .

Mark   6:31 Come with me  by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.

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