Winding down from Whakatane

Dotterel Point was sooo beautiful that we stayed another night: the only campervan in the car park, though several cars had been and gone with dog walkers or surfers. One man had visited three times, surfing twice, in the course of 8 hours.

We had stayed in many, many lovely spots, but where else could you watch rolling surf pounding the beach and then, turning around, gaze at the calm waters of a shallow harbour only a hundred metres or so behind us?

We were still only half an hour’s drive from Whakatane, so we decided to go back for Sunday morning church.

Good decision. We visited LibertyLife, a church with Presbyterian roots and a Pentecostal outlook. Good music, powerful testimonies, encouragement to carry on living the Christian life: it felt REAL.  And we were, just a little, out of our comfort zone – a type of service we are not used to – no bad thing.

Still, it was exciting to hear about all the many things the church was involved in, but what impressed us most was the calm and personal welcome. |Mike Davies spoke to us as we make our way out, introducing us to others, sharing a little about his life; then, too, Kelvin Deal approached: it was exciting to hear about what God is doing through this vibrant church of, perhaps, a hundred plus people.  And we – complete strangers – were even invited to lunch. (Which would have been lovely, but we had many miles to go before our sleep, so, regretfully, we declined.)

So we made our way back north, towards Auckland. Our destination was, again, Ray’s Rest, a freedom site next to a wetland bird sanctuary, of RAMSAR importance. But first, we had to endure the most severe hailstorm we have seen since leaving Kenya. Fortunately, we were stationary at the time, because the hail piled up on the windscreen like snow and left the roads covered in white.

It was an interesting challenge afterwards to negotiate the Karangahake Gorge...

And so, here we are, back, in Ray’s Rest. Auckland tomorrow, and the end of ‘camping’ adventures. But looking forward to Yet More Wedding Planning – caterers have submitted their quote and everything is go...

Just negotiating on the bride price now. We’ve asked to be paid in sheep, not goats; have the offer of some Herefords instead, but, actually, it would really have to be Guernseys....

Full days.

Sometimes, a day seems like a very satisfying meal. Climbing up a hill before dawn was so beautiful.

And the birds: the native pigeon, the Kereru, in the Coral tree above our heads, the tree itself, Erythrina Caffra, a close relative of our African 'lucky bean' tree. Then there was the striking purple gallinule, the Pukeko, strutting across the path as we made our way down from our 'sunrise' hill; the silver-eye, flitting among the aloes in Auckland's Botanical Gardens...and the ever present myna, garishly eye-catching.

So many impressions in the last couple of days: the lively worship of Life Church felt like coming home; the sun warmed us the whole afternoon as we watched Cat and her friends in an energetic, fun-filled frisbee game; friends and family so warm and welcoming; gannets, and even a couple of seals, at Muriwhai...

People are fragile

We live in a fragile world. A world of deteriorating environmental quality, a world of natural disasters and man-made tragedies. And in it, we all struggle to live our lives. Daily.

Some of us struggle less than others. Some of us have been born into Western world material comfort, though many have less 'comforts' than the wealthy few. Yet many more of those who live on the planet lack even the most essential of needs: adequate shelter; food - of some description, not necessarily, even, good food; clean water.

Many have lost fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, friends and neighbours.  Many have suffered great personal tragedy.

Overwhelming.

Yet beauty can come out of ashes. Friends can be family. Kindness can overcome cruelty.

So I need to remember - we ALL need to remember, but I am responsible only for my own actions - how to behave kindly.

To praise and encourage and say kind words to gladden other people's hearts.
To give the benefit of the doubt.
To be gentle with pointing out errors. And that, only if absolutely necessary.
To forgive.
To apologize.
To say 'Thank you. I'm so glad you did that.'

And, also, to be all that to myself as well. Because we are ALL fragile.

I was inspired for this post by Deidra:

"I have three passages of scripture I use as my marching orders. They rest soundly and squarely atop John 3:16, because where would I be without For God so loved the world?

... The first passage of scripture is in the letter we call Ephesians:

The Messiah has made things up between us so that we’re now together on this, both non-Jewish outsiders and Jewish insiders. He tore down the wall we used to keep each other at a distance. He repealed the law code that had become so clogged with fine print and footnotes that it hindered more than it helped. Then he started over. Instead of continuing with two groups of people separated by centuries of animosity and suspicion, he created a new kind of human being, a fresh start for everybody.

...Jesus is in the business of tearing down the walls we build to keep us separated from each other. We build the walls. Not Christ.

...The second passage of scripture is Matthew 18:15, which says, “If a fellow believer hurts you, go and tell him—work it out between the two of you. If he listens, you’ve made a friend.”

...I believe Jesus knew we’d get on each other’s nerves, even in the Body of Christ. I believe he knew we’d see things differently and step on each others’ toes, and that we’d be tempted to let that cause a rift between us. I even believe Jesus knew how we’d tend to take to Facebook and Twitter before we’d walk a mile or so to stand in front of the person who ticked us off and try to work it out between us. Jesus knows the way we think and so He said to us, “Hey, when you get on each others’ nerves, go to that person—face-to-face—and try to figure things out.”

The third passage of scripture is this: “This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples—when they see the love you have for each other.” (John 13:35, MSG)

Church (as my pastor used to say), the world is watching us. Like it or not, it’s the truth. The world is watching us. And when we get it right, it’s our love for one another that the world finds attractive. It doesn’t matter what you’ve heard or read, but it’s not programs or numbers or followers or shares that make the world sit up and take notice about the things that matter for eternity. It’s not even miracles and signs and wonders. Jesus didn’t say they’d know we’re His disciples because of how much money we raise or how many books we’ve published. He said the world will know we’re His disciples because of our love for each other.

That’s something, isn’t it?

I have this crazy idea that if the Church—the Body of Christ—could figure this out and stop building walls and holding grudges and let the world see a new kind of extravagant love, we might actually be able to speak truth to power and let God set a table of grace, even in the presence of those who see things differently than we do.

...where is God inviting you to join him? It may not be as far as you think. What’s keeping you from saying yes to Him? What if God wants to grow that seed He’s planted in your heart and all you need to do is let Him do it?

Connection

Day Five - Sunday.

Psalm 139:9 - 10
If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.

We are visiting Life church, truly on the far side of the sea from home. Wonderful worship, challenging teaching: held fast and guided by God. As we met so many people, we experienced a real sense of being part of God's family. An added bonus was that this church where Cat has made her home is so similar to Proclaimers in Norwich, Jonny's church family.

A walk on Mount Eden, one of the many dormant volcanoes studding Auckland, gave us views over God's creation and the work of his people...

Proud

Proud mama.

23 minutes in...

March Madness

March was the strangest month. I've already blogged about the snow - a freak blizzard which brought Guernsey to a standstill for three days.  Skidding into school, it looked as if the worst was already over - just a few grains and a light covering - but then the storm hit. Force 9 winds lashed the islands with hail and snow, which accumulated, in places, in drifts over 8 feet high.
The airport was, of course, closed as heavy machinery struggled to clear the snow.  Fortunately for Guernsey, the airport was already undergoing major work and so the contractor's heavy plant proved to be very useful.
Goodness knows how many trees were uprooted: the total of just the ones which blocked roads was 70, while fallen trees can still be seen in hedgerows or, in one case, fallen across one of the footpaths.
Firewood won't be a problem for a while.
Around the storm, life continued as usual. The pace at school picked up as we struggled to fit in activities before the end of term - sadly, Easter barely got a mention. No eggs or chicks, let alone an acknowledgement of the festival's real meaning.
As well as fitting in our usual church and house group commitments, I enjoyed a fascinating morning listening to a visiting speaker teach on apologetics; we also started teaching a CAP money coaching course; prepared a prayer workshop for Good Friday, with practical activities for reflection; and I contributed a post to another blog site as a guest.
We also caught up with friends, especially from Devon and Dorset; celebrated the school holidays with a fun 'bring and share' and then numerous trips to cafes; and I made the journey over to London for the day, to celebrate my brother's 50th birthday. What a joy to meet up with childhood - and more recent - friends, one of whom I hadn't seen for over 30 years.
And, at the end of the month, wonderful answers to prayer. God is good, ALL THE TIME.
March seemed, before I looked back, somewhat of a 'mini' month. How wrong I was. March demanded maximum effort in every minute.

Breakfast!

I've talked before about my monthly breakfasts.

I love holding them.
I love meeting with the women who drag themselves out of their houses early on a Saturday morning, when the 'to-do' list is long and there are families, children, husbands who all want to lay claim to their time.
I love the warm sense of companionship.
I love how I feel I've had a holiday, a break, refreshment and relaxation.

And yet...

Every time, in the run-up during the week, I wonder if it is worth it.

People often don't tell me they are coming until the last minute. So, by Friday afternoon, I was expecting 3. Then the phone calls and emails started coming - at one point, we were up to 12, I think, or more. (I lose track easily.)

There were 9 of us. Perfect. 9 is the perfect number for sharing, for being able to really open up our hearts and be real with each other.

Every time, I find myself running around to get ready.

This time, even more so. I was rather too relaxed and didn't realise I hadn't got up until an hour before they were due to arrive.

An hour in which I had to lay out crockery and cutlery; cut up and arrange fruit; make toast. Bake cinnamon rolls. (The last was unplanned, although fortunately I realised at 9pm the night before that I didn't have any baked goods or even enough bread in the freezer. No problem: just put dough to rise over night.)

But then I noticed that there were several other 'little' jobs desperately demanding my attention. Rather like taking your children out to visit someone you don't know really well and realising that their hands and faces looked as if they'd been making mud pies all afternoon. Remember when your mum used to clean you up with a bit of spit and polish? A lick on a handkerchief and a hard wipe round delicate skin on your child face? That's what the house got. (Don't look for the dirt in the corners.)

I felt a bit ashamed, really. I hadn't given the forthcoming breakfast enough weighty consideration, so I hadn't prepared adequately for visitors to my home.
On the other hand, I knew that these ladies from church would not be judging me on the quality of my cleaning, cooking or tea-making. They knew that 'Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.' (1 Samuel 16:7)

Guess what the topic was this time?

Appearance!

Here are my lovely friends, who look beyond the outward appearance to come and share precious time together:

Digressions and a working breakfast

We’ve had wonderful weather here for the last couple of weeks. Brilliant blue skies, sunshine so clear you can almost touch it, sparkling seas… sometimes rustling and playing, white caps tossing tiny heads, or occasionally as still and calm as a translucent mirror.

But today is different.

Today, the skies are clouded and frowning. Sprinkles of rain-mist tap my face as I walk outside. The wind is chill.

So I’m here at school, trying to catch up. I have reports to write, an inbox which is bulging so much it is in real danger of physically splitting, a desk piled high with papers and files. And that’s after tidying and sorting out before I left on Friday… whoops, that was yesterday. Less than 24 hours ago.

What am I doing? None of that, obviously. Catching up on my blog. It’s important.

It’s important to stop and reflect. To take that deep breath and review where life has gone in the last couple of weeks and where it is heading off to next. I’m only talking the next 14 days or so.

It’s important.

My morning was a precious oasis of catch up time, too. Every month I love to host a breakfast for working ladies in our church – whose lives are too busy Monday to Friday to go to home groups or other socials but who crave more time with God and His people than they get on a Sunday. We feast together, chat together, laugh together and focus on God’s word together. I lead, we all share. A good friend has caught the vision and comes early with gifts of food, helps me prepare, welcomes everyone. The breakfast is open to all the church, but typically there are about 10 of us and we all fit comfortably around my big table. There are some old, some new faces; friendships are forged, renewed, deepened. We take time out to reflect on our working lives: on how God sustains us in and through our work, and on how we can return that favour – to our colleagues.

I talked this morning about prayer. And digression.

This is DIGRESSION. A breath of fresh air before I dive into work. And it is SO welcome!

Shoes in the church...

I showered and shaved, I adjusted my tie.
I got there and sat,In a pew just in time
Bowing my head in prayer, As I closed my eyes.
I saw the shoe of the man next to me, Touching my own. I sighed.
With plenty of room on either side, I thought, "Why must our soles
touch?"
It bothered me, his shoe touching mine, But it didn't bother him much.
A prayer began: "Our Father", I thought, "This man with the shoes.. Has no pride.
They're dusty, worn, and scratched. Even worse, there are holes on the side!"
"Thank You for blessings," the prayer went on.
The shoe man said A quiet "Amen."
I tried to focus on the prayer But my thoughts were on his shoes
again.
Aren't we supposed to look our best When walking through that door?
"Well, this certainly isn't it," I thought, Glancing toward the floor.
Then the prayer was ended And the songs of praise began.
The shoe man was certainly loud Sounding proud as he sang.
His voice lifted the rafters His hands were raised high.
The Lord could surely hear.. The shoe man's voice from the sky.
It was time for the offering And what I threw in was steep.
I watched as the shoe man reached Into his pockets so deep.
I saw what was pulled out What the shoe man put in.
Then I heard a soft "clink" . As when silver hits tin.
The sermon really bored me To tears, and that's no lie.
It was the same for the shoe man For tears fell from his eyes.
At the end of the service As is the custom here.
We must greet new visitors And show them all good cheer.
But I felt moved somehow And wanted to meet the shoe man.
So after the closing prayer I reached over and shook his hand.
He was old and his skin was dark And his hair was truly a mess.
But I thanked him for coming For being our guest.
He said, "My names' Charlie I'm glad to meet you, my friend."
There were tears in his eyes But he had a large, wide grin.
"Let me explain," he said. Wiping tears from his eyes.
"I've been coming here for monthsAnd you're the first to say 'Hi.'"
"I know that my appearanceIs not like all the rest.
"But I really do try To always look my best."
"I always clean and polish my shoes before my very long walk.
"But by the time I get here They're dirty and dusty, like chalk."
My heart filled with pain, And I swallowed to hide my tears.
As he continued to apologize For daring to sit so near.
He said, "When I get here I know I must look a sight.
"But I thought if I could touch you Then maybe our souls might unite."
I was silent for a moment Knowing whatever was said
Would pale in comparison I spoke from my heart, not my head.
"Oh, you've touched me," I said "And taught me, in part;
"That the best of any man Is what is found in his heart."
The rest, I thought, This shoe man will never know.
Like just how thankful I really am That his dirty old shoe touched my soul.

Appreciation corner

I'm so thankful for so many things this week.
Thankful for my friend Sarah, carving out a precious slot of time for us to meet, drink tea, catch up and pray.
Thankful for Jonny and Cat at the end of the skype line, beavering away at their studies while running a hectic social life.
Thankful for a husband who has vacuumed the house and cleared the kitchen until it is literally sparkling.
Thankful for my little School Council boys: all 20 of them wove and wriggled their way among 60 septuagenarians who had gathered for our 60th birthday celebration at school. Like little moles, the boys burrowed between adults who were totally absorbed in the delights of rediscovery and reminiscence, serving them birthday cake. They even managed to serve the ladies first - a gesture which did not go unnoticed.
Thankful for the prospect of rest over half term.
Thankful even for a long journey ahead of us tomorrow - thankful that we have the opportunity to do this.
Thankful for a church which gathers round those who are sick or in crisis.
And, above all, thankful for our God who listens to and cares for us... a 'thank' which is only the beginning of a multitude of thanks...

Renewing and reenergising

I took some rather strange 'time out' on Saturday morning. Strange in that 'time out' usually means, for me, a quiet time: reading, walking, writing, reflecting, doing something on my own. This was spent with a dozen other women.

We gathered in my sitting room for breakfast. I provided the coffee, the croissants, the fruit and the juice. They provided the bubbly enthusiasm, the generous love, the warm companionship. We chatted for a couple of hours, reflecting on our lives and what it means to be a woman of God in the workplace. We gained support and encouragement from each other. We had 'time out'.

Renewed and reenergised.

New Year New Challenges

I've never been much of a fan of New Year: I understand its significance, but every day for me is a new day. After all, God's mercies are new every morning. So we've never celebrated in frenetic party style either - many a New Year's Eve has found us asleep well before midnight.

This year was a little different. We went to a party at church. Great fun. About 100 people dipped in and out during the evening, talking, eating, drinking, playing games, or even having a quiet moment in the prayer room. Friendships renewed and begun. Relationships strengthened: with each other, and with God. At midnight, we gathered in front of the altar, hugged each other, sang worship songs, prayed, celebrated God's goodness. Overall, there was a wonderful sense of family, of safety, of being together as we face another year.

The next day, as we ate lunch together as a family, we took time, each in secret, to write down our own individual prayers: heart wishes, expressions of thanks to God. We keep them in a tiny glass jar, decorated with the words: Living the Light. In a year's time, we will look at them and see how God has answered. It is always wonderfully encouraging

Church

We looked at our values at church committe last week. We narrowed it down to five. I rather liked this acronym:

Real relationship - with God
Open to God - through prayer and worship
Living in love - relationships with each other
Overcoming evil - the reason for being, our mission statement
Seeking God's kingdom - teaching the Bible and, I would add, through the experience of the Holy Spirit.

This is a lovely acronym. Rolos are delicous sweets: toffee, covered in chocolate, stacked up in a tube.

I'd rather like to be a Rolo

Busy busy

I look back at my week, in a rare pause-for-breath moment. I can't quite believe how hectic it has been. It's Saturday now, and my to-do list is still long. Some with school, some with home. No real pause-for-breath time yet.

This week I have had over 20 parent interviews. That's not much - I'm not a secondary teacher so don't see a lot of students, just my little flock to nurture through this year.

I have written around 10,000 - yes, ten thousand, that WAS the right number of noughts - words. No, not a dissertation - just end of term reports on around a dozen different subjects for each child.

I have planned and organised a cross-curricular day, incorporating History, English, Geography, Maths, Science, PSHE, PE, Drama and Art.

I have been to a church committee meeting, having great fun thinking about our vision and values - who we are.

I have been to a wonderful celebration where Christians from all over our tiny island, from many different churches, gathered together to worship and pray.

I wouldn't have missed any of that for the world.

I love meeting parents, allaying their anxieties about their children, celebrating progress made, gaining an insight into the kids I teach.
I love writing reports: reflecting on the progress the children have made and where I want to take them to next.
I love 'different' days where we dress up and follow a theme throughout the day. It makes learning so much more relevant.
I love being part of an active church which seeks to honour God in everything it does.
I love worshipping God with music, poetry and prayer. I love seeing Him at work in my life and the lives of those I love.

Would I miss any of these to be a little less busy?

No.

(Though the ten thousand words were too many to write... I'd like to do fewer of those next time).

Home is where the heart is

It’s nearly the end of the uni term, so Cat and Jonny will be home in a couple of weeks. They have all but finished their exams, have no more lectures or course work… so why aren’t they hopping on the next plane back to Guernsey?

Why aren’t they coming home straight away?

Because home, for them, is again more than one place. Kenya is still home. Guernsey is home. Now Norwich, where they are studying, is another home.

It’s not because of the university, though. Both of them have found new spiritual homes in the churches they attend. Both enjoy helping out, becoming more and more involved in the life of the church. Becoming part of a community which has become home to them.

They – and we – are the richer for it.

Cat and Jonny

"Parents are so useful," said my daughter Cat, when we were skyping a few days ago. "Really good to talk things over with." She was calling to discuss her complicated summer plans. She's fitting in work, going to two Christian summer conferences (one as a leader, one as a delegate), volunteering for Tearfund, visiting friends all over Britain and going on an activity holiday to Switzerland. (We almost dragged her off to Africa with us too, but that's another story.)

Balancing time, money, working out what's best for her and the friends she cares for and supports. She's incredibly giving, loving and generous.

So is Jonny, her twin brother. He finished his exams a couple of days ago, but he's not coming home until the beginning of June before he goes off to Tanzania to meet up with some of his best friends, Jesse and Trevor. They've known each other since before they were born. Are now continents apart. Still great friends.

So Jonny is hanging around, being a good friend as only he can. (Watch him in a group. He has identified the newcomers and come alongside them, befriending them and drawing them in, before you can blink.) And helping out at church. On a Sunday, he's up at 6am to help go and set up ready for the services. I am so proud of him and his servant heart.

I won't embarrass them any more. I could go on and on. I won't.

Honesty or, The Great Cake Analogy

Ironic that I've been thinking about honesty. The vicar mentioned it this morning. The necessity of being honest with God.

And, to my mind, with each other as well.

Ironic also, because I just made a cake. I just love analogies. This is my latest. The Great Cake Analogy.

My cake making is... okay. The cakes usually taste good, even when I don't measure the ingredients properly. But it's a bit hit and miss - partly because I don't make cakes very often, so I forget how to do it. As for icing... well, it's always necessary. Necessary because I really like the icing best of all, and necessary to hide all the lumpy bits. The cakes never turn out with good smooth, level surfaces. There are bumps at the side and on top, but nothing that a layer of icing can't cure.

The trouble is, icing isn't good. It's calories your body doesn't need and sweetness which damages the teeth.

I do other damage to my life, if I'm not careful.

My life is like one of my cakes. Lumpy, bumpy and doesn't look good, although it doesn't taste too bad. Yet a lot of the time I ice it over, so no one can see the ugly bits.

My icing is made of politeness, dissembling, camouflage and hidden emotions. It contains lies, which are very useful for covering up hurt and difficulty, the sort of lies on the lines of 'I'm fine, thank you,' in answer to 'How are you?'. It is smoothed down with the hot water of positive thinking - if I don't admit to the problem, it will go away.

People can't connect properly if I am not honest about my life. If I gloss over difficulties - particularly if I cover them with holy optimism and Bible references - others cannot see the real me. Icing over my life isn't good for me.

Am I prepared to be honest with God? Am I prepared for people to see the uncovered ugliness that is like one of my cakes before cosmetic treatment?

Decisions, decisions

Sometimes it's really hard marking decisions.

Sometimes, just deciding whether or not to have another cup of coffee takes a little thought.

Sometimes that's just ridiculous.

A cup of coffee? For heaven's sake.

For heaven's sake, the price of a cup of coffee can make the difference between life and death.

Sometimes I need to decide very very carefully about that cup of coffee.

Our vicar's induction

The church looked great last night. After all our hard work cleaning, the floor gleamed and the pews were dust-free. Several huge floral displays were banked up at the front of the church - there is a wedding today.

But last night's occasion was of greater significance than even a wedding . After nearly a year without a vicar, the time had arrived for the new one to be formally introduced - inducted - into the church.

It was quite a performance. All the local churchmen were there, the Dean of Guernsey, various lay readers - all robed up and sitting behind the altar facing a packed church. There was much standing up and sitting down, surrounding various rituals - ringing the bell, washing hands in water at the font and promising to baptise, accepting the key to the door, a bible, a prayer book, a concordance; making countless solemn promises.

It was all quite beyond the experience of most of us. We are indeed an Anglican church, but very informal. Ritual and liturgy are kept very low key, happening seldom. Responses among the congregation encompassed incredulity, bewilderment, amazement, amusement...

Yet it was all very comforting. Hearing the new vicar who will be leading the church make promises was reassuring. He confirmed that he will guide us according to the beliefs of the Anglican church. Of course, there is a careful selection process, but there was still something inherently safe about the whole service. Our new leader will, we hope, continue to take us on in our lives with Jesus, without sidetracks or distraction. We are all pointed in the same direction, and the induction service confirmed it.