Thursday 31 January 2008

The way home

Journeys here in Guernsey are short: on a good day, it takes only half an hour to drive from one end of the island to the other.

They are safe: the top speed limit is 35 miles per hour, and in many places this is lowered to 25 mph. There is no fear of accidents, road rage, or car jacking.

Yet they are often not at all straightforward.

The roads here are so narrow that road repairs entail - road closures. For days. For weeks. For months - one road was closed for more than 6 whole months last year. So going from A to B often means a detour via C and probably D, E and F. It is necessary to follow the diversion signs at every twist or turn in order to avoid becoming hopelessly lost. (Of course, eventually all roads lead to the sea, but it can take an awful lot of driving and a huge amount of frustration and bad temper.)

Even uninterrupted journeys have their hazards. Mine this morning seemed to include every type of road user in existence.

First of all, I rounded a bend to be confronted by a tractor. Just a tractor. No trailer, nothing. In the scarcely dark early morning light. The lane was so narrow that I had to be content to trundle along at tractor speed. Which was just as well, for no sooner had he turned off than I had to stop. In front of me was a 'pooh truck'. Or, to give it its proper name, a sewage disposal lorry, busy pumping out effluent from a septic tank. The choice was a ten minute wait or a quick reverse and follow the tractor. I chose the latter. Curiously enough, I never caught up with him.

Next was a runner, in fluorescent vest and tracksuit. Speed before passing: an impressive 15 mph. Almost catching up the bicycle toiling up the hill in front of him. Timing again was everything: I had to wait to overtake, as one of our island buses swept around the corner, and we all squeezed in alongside a granite wall.

Other moving hazards included the posse of 50 cc mopeds which swept pass me, almost skimming my wing mirror, and then a huge motorcycle, its rider sitting back as nonchalantly as if he had been in an armchair at home.

At the traffic lights, the runner whizzed past me on the pavement while the cyclist overtook the line of stationary cars. A lesson in transport.

Sunday 27 January 2008

Fear

The news from Kenya fills me with sorrow as there is no end to the violence. Indeed, it is increasing - 700 killed since just after Christmas. I fear for our friends there - we have heard little of how they are faring. Most Kenyans are sitting tight, trying to live normal lives amid the spreading unrest, longing for the political situation to be resolved so that peace returns to the country.

I am praying for these dear friends: for safety, for peace in the midst of turmoil, for their country. Yet, to my shame, I cannot let myself dwell on it much. Behind the door marked 'Kenya' in my mind lies another, hideous and unspeakably ugly, named Terror.

I cannot let my heart remember those feelings of terror: the threat of violence; the fear of strange and unfamiliar noises; the dread of repeated robbery, bringing with it emotions so strong that my teeth would chatter with fright and I would sweat restlessly through the night; the worry that a loved one's failure to come home on time might mean that they had been carjacked, taken to a remote area, possibly killed; the ever-present alertness and sense of purpose needed when walking on foot in town, in an effort to avoid being mugged. I cannot let myself feel again the need to be permanently on the alert, to survive.

My mind can tolerate these things; my heart cannot bear to feel them. I pray my friends' hearts are kept in peace and safety.

Tuesday 22 January 2008

Imperfection

I find it amazing that we live in community - in couples, in families, in workplaces, in clubs and social groups, in churches - and yet we still do not really know each other. Of course, because of proximity we know some better than others yet there are still huge parts of us which remain hidden.

Nothing 'wrong' with that. Each of us is our own person. Yet there is huge benefit to be gained from opening up to someone else, sharing ourselves and learning from each other.

It's very easy NOT to do that. To keep the mask on, to share only what we want to and keep hidden things well hidden. Many have written about the benefits of being open, yet we still don't do it. It's not ideal.

I have colleagues I can trust. I go to church most Sundays. I have a small group of friends who I meet with weekly to share joys and sorrows, difficulties and dilemmas with. I meet with one particular friend to chat with and share concerns. Often, when I talk about situations and circumstances, I see my actions in a new light as these friends gently give me another point of view. I hope I learn from them, changing my behaviour and attitudes when necessary.

Yet I know too well that I permit them to do this only as much as I am open with them. And it is frighteningly easy to keep things hidden. Yet there is no escaping God, and so, most of the time, I try not to. The Bible says, in the first book of Corinthians: "...he (Jesus) will bring out in the open and place in evidence all kinds of things we never even dreamed of—inner motives and purposes and prayers."

Yet that's only the small group and a few trusted friends. I am uncomfortably aware that to others in our church I look 'sorted'. (I won't explain the reasons why.)

I'm not 'sorted'. Yes,many things about my life are very good, and I am very thankful for them. Yet I too struggle inwardly, as so many of us, if we are honest with ourselves, do. Sometimes life is easy and everything goes smoothly. Sometimes it doesn't. Then we find ourselves looking around at a world which seems to proclaim that no one has problems - except us.

I would like to stand up and say: "Don't believe what you see. Don't have misconceptions about me. Don't think I'm okay, when you are struggling. Take heart. We all have difficulties. You are not alone..."

Wednesday 16 January 2008

Humbled

I went to a talk by the Prison Alpha team from Holy Trinity Brompton yesterday. They take the Alpha Course into prisons all over the UK, and had come to spend three days with the prisoners here.

All had amazing stories to tell.

I'm amazed and awed - but not by them. I am stunned by the power of God to turn lives around. In some cases, it was instantly; in others, it was gradually over time, after a defining moment of change.

But I was totally impressed by their focus and dedication to the work God had given them.

A wake up call: can I be similarly focused, thinking only of how to please God as I go about the minutiae of my days? What would I do differently?

Monday 14 January 2008

New Resolutions

Looking back over my New Year comment, I realised I had left out my uppermost thought.

It is this: That every day is a new beginning: as the book of Lamentations says, adapted into a wonderful hymn:

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases
His mercies never come to an end...
They are new every morning,
new every morning,
Great is your faithfulness O Lord,
Great is your faithfulness."

With God, we get a new start EVERY day - we don't have to wait once a year for the first of January.

Better than that, even: we get a new start with God EVERY time we turn back towards him and look for him. He is there, waiting for the moment. Longing to see our faces and not the backs of our heads.

Longing for us.

Missing you!

I HAD thought that there was at least ONE advantage to Jonny and Cat's departure for uni: a clean and tidy house. We had had a particularly busy time over Christmas, with lots of visitors, and it had been quite time-consuming to keep on top of all the housework.

So I'm halfway to catching up on the washing, vacuum-cleaning and all those other delightful chores.

But the house feels SO empty without singing from upstairs, music blasting out all over the place, the slamming of doors and the thunder of feet up and down the stairs.

Even the dog seems quieter now without playmates.

I'll get used to it - but boy, do I miss those two!

Sunday 13 January 2008

The New Year

I don't go a bundle on New Year's eve celebrations, or New Year resolutions either - although I can see that it is definitely a spur to action for many. 'Turning over a new leaf' is always attractive.

Yet there is definitely a 'clearing away to starting anew' feeling after Christmas. For me, this comes once all the Christmas decorations have been carefully packed away until next year, and the house cleaned.

I don't usually do this before January 6th, frequently leaving it until later.

This year, I only started on January 12th. After Jonny and Cat had left to return to university.

We were having too much fun to think about tidying up before that.

Thursday 10 January 2008

Responsibility

One of the challenges of teaching is to help children mature and, in doing so, to take responsibility for their actions.

Another challenge is to get parents to realise that their child can be held accountable.

A natural response is for children to knowingly get up to all kinds of mischief, relying (if at all the possibility of getting caught even crosses their minds) on the power of an apology to get them out of any consequences or punishment. If that fails, they call - naturally - on their parents to get them out of trouble.

I have taught children who have educated their parents very well. These adults believe their child is incapable of doing wrong. Not only that, but if it is proven that the child has committed some heinous act, out comes the excuse: 'He's only a child.'

Indeed.

Yet a colleague reminded me yesterday that 10 years old (8 years in Scotland) is the age of criminal responsibility in England. In other words, the age at which a child can be held LEGALLY - not just morally - responsible for his or her actions.

Hmm. This does put the homework excuses in a new light.

Friday 4 January 2008

Kenya

The news of the unrest in Kenya is deeply unsettling.

Not so much because of the rioting, looting and lawlessness: we lived through many such situations when we lived in the country. The attempted coup of 1982 and the demonstrations in subsequent years often spawned violence, usually in relatively small areas of the country. It wasn't too difficult to avoid if one was sensible. Then, after a short time, it was back to business as usual.

It seems different this time. So much tribal enmity. Neighbours have turned against each other, whole communities have been destroyed. It is heartbreaking to get emails from acquaintances who are hiding indoors in fear, often with rioting going on around them, and with little food.

I can only begin to imagine what it must feel like. Terrifying is far too mild a word for the intense stress of fearing for one's life. I experienced this once, for a relatively short time. What must it be like to be in that situation for days on end?

It is hard to see a way forward for Kenya which is not paved with further damage and destruction.

Cycling

Getting back on my bike this year wasn't particularly easy. It was great to be exercising again - there's such a carefree feel about moving through the air while sitting back comfortably - but the weather was bitterly cold. Brought tears to my eyes.

The wind makes it especially interesting here. Round a corner and you are met by the full blast of an Arctic northerly. Equally, a turn into a quiet lane where hedges and stone walls shelter from all but the slightest of breezes.

Still, it's fun. I got myself up to school, freewheeling home on a sunny afternoon; dodged huge lorries as I took a shortcut through the industrial area; and managed to do all my shopping locally, putting a few items into a small rucksack with the remainder on the carrier. So much more satisfying than stepping into the car.