Slapped Sideways

It has been a trial of a week, truth to tell.  I found myself at the end of my working week sitting in front of the computer screen.  I had googled “signs of a nervous breakdown” half in jest and half in earnest.

Have you ever watched those tennis matches where one player is hopelessly outmatched by the other?  During those breaks in the match between games, they sit with the towel over their heads as the commentators dissect each point and ask questions about commitment to winning or assess the man or woman’s fitness levels. 

Yes, I watched the Andy Murray game against Nadal.  Yes, he lost and it was not his finest hour – there was no taking it to the wire.  It appeared that Andy had lost no credibility in the commentators’ eyes – it was only six months since surgery on his back; it was only the second time he had got to the semis in the French Open; Clay clearly wasn’t his preferred playing surface; Nadal was playing out of his skin.

I was Andy Murray last night! All week at work I have felt outplayed.  I had been slapped sideways on so many occasions.  A low point occurred Wednesday afternoon – something precious and mostly irreplaceable – a work of art of the written kind – was cut adrift into cyber space.  Don’t tell me that I should back things up!  I thought I had backed it up on more than one device only to discover I had only a first draft, not a nearly finished product.  It was a towel on the head moment.

Things just hadn’t gone as planned and I was aware that things will get more hectic rather than more settled.  If I wasn’t coping in a time of relative rest, I was certainly not going to cope in a time of busy-ness.

I scrolled through the list of nervous breakdown signs and none of them applied.  I wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or robbed in some way.  

God snorted!

As if, He commented, I could be that close, when I had the Almighty on my side.  If only He knew, I thought sourly, that sometimes it is precisely because He is on my side that I feel close to the edge.  I had spent some of my week explaining to groups of young people some of the tough things Jesus said – like “turn the other cheek”. It’s just on the possible side impossible to make it almost impossible!

So, yes, slapped sideways described my week well.

I settled down to spread the week’s mess on the floor of God’s throne room ready for an autopsy.  No unsuccessful strategies, however, were pulled from the week, weighed and measured and scrutinised. 

I found myself reading Ephesians 3:16 “I pray (that’s Paul speaking) that out of his glorious riches He may strengthen you with power through His Spirit in your inner being,”

My inner man had taken a pounding and strengthening seemed like a good idea.

I went on to read the account of Jesus being tempted in Luke 4. There were things that Jesus knew to be true.  He knew himself to be the Son of God because God had said it out loud during his baptism.  Yet the enemy was poking holes and goading Him by saying “If You were…You would do this or that..”  

It is a sad day when out enemy knows more about what God’s word says than we do. 

Jesus didn’t debate the issue.  He knew God’s word – what it said and what it didn’t say.  If the word of God is like a two edged sword – the enemy has his own self-forged warped version.  The sword that Jesus wields is the true sword.

God reminded me that His word was deeply rooted inside me.  More than that – I knew the Author of the Word.  The trials of the week were not about poking holes into my boat and watching me sink.  The fact that there were no holes, and I didn’t sink, was proof that my boat was strong and seaworthy. 

Today was another morning of being slapped sideways – in a good sense. 

I enjoyed a morning of creative writing. It was a small gathering at the Breathe Chapel of writers.  Writing was a big part of it, as was sharing what we had written.

The first swipe came as a lady read out a poem about a broken chandelier.  At first read through I was just not getting it. Then, I don’t know what happened.  Suddenly the broken chandelier took on a whole new identity.  Memories of years of fertility treatment and miscarriages came back with all of the emotions I felt at the time. Asking why, not understanding, not being able to function afterwards.  My whole picture of “family” was shattered like a broken chandelier.  It couldn’t be fixed.  Poetry is about touching the emotions – and her poem certainly touched me.  It ended with picking up a broken piece of glass and handing over to God and seeing the rainbow of light glinting off the fragment.  It described so well what I did to be able to move on.

The second swipe, which was really the first swipe seeing as it came first, happened when another lady talked about the poetry of “Melanie Kerr” not realising she was sitting next to me. She had been to an open-mic evening at the Sunset Café.  She had picked up one of my books and shared a couple of the poems from it. She must have sat down to read more of the poems and liked them.  “Liked them” is perhaps too mild a reaction.  We will pass on the superlatives – my head won’t fit through the door. She really liked them.  I love my book and it never fails to amaze me that I wrote the poems. I really like them too. It was nice to feel appreciated.

When God encourages a person he does it BIG TIME.

 

My Tychicus

“Tychicus will tell you all the news about me. He is a dear brother, a faithful minister and fellow servant in the Lord. I am sending him to you for the express purpose that you may know about our circumstances and that he may encourage your hearts.” Colossians 4:7-8

I asked God for a Tychius yesterday.  I was badly in need of someone, not to tell me about Paul’s circumstances – I could read that for myself.  I need a Tychius to encourage my heart.

The day before yesterday had not been any kind of red letter day.  It had been more like a black one.  Small things had taken on gigantic proportions. I expressed the notion that I was considering writing a letter of resignation.  Later on in the day the news seeped through the work place that I was leaving.  For some, it seemed to be a cause for victory.  Others were somewhat dismayed.  I’m not leaving – not yet.  Put away the party poppers and the champagne bottles for another day.

Involved in the asking for a Tychicus was being watchful enough to recognise him when he did turn up.  It was never an “if”. Something inside my prayer life has shifted.  I know that if I ask God for anything, He will answer.  If I am praying about something, there will be an answer.  My words don’t go unheard by my Father in heaven.

My Tychicus turned up at about 10.00 am.  The phone rang.  I really need to speak to someone about getting a hearing-aid friendly phone. I have taken to removing my hearing aid to answer the phone.

“Is Billy with you?”

“No, Billy isn’t with me.  He used to be, but someone took him away.”

It appeared that Billy had been signed up to work with someone else, but the someone else he was signed up to work with was working with someone else.  They hadn’t time for Billy.  Poor Billy was left in an empty room with nothing to do.

“Billy wants to come back to you.  He likes RE.  Is that OK?”

That’s pretty much a first – someone who likes RE is a rare being. I chose not to explore why Billy likes RE. A quick glance at pupils surreptitiously sharing sweets and Roy playing with the blinds gave a clue or two.

So Billy came back – because he likes RE. He doesn’t know his middle name is now Tychius.

Not done with Tychicus he showed up again at 4.00 pm.  This time I did the phoning to check it was OK to turn up at the “For The Right Reasons” publishing office.  I had been mildly rebuked for just turning up and putting people under pressure.  It was just my presence that did it, not my words or actions.  They are publishing my poetry book “Wider Than The Corners Of This World”.

It is a very busy place.  Publishing there isn’t something “done” to you. Computers are available for you to do your own formatting, correct your own mistakes or even write the book in the first place. There are rarely more than a few familiar faces.  But I like it there!  It is full of positive energy. 

Kevin, who is the ICT genius, had not been well for a while. It was nice to see him there yesterday looking a little better. 

He placed my book – the third proof – with a cover and a blurb on the back – into my hand.  It is a third proof and not the finished version yet.  We had talked about illustrations for some of the poems and this copy had them in place.

I can remember distinctly sitting outside of a courier office sometime earlier this year, in my car, with a box of books from a printer down in Englandhsire.  The box contained the paperback version of the poetry book that a Welsh publishing company had produced.  There had been no proofs apart from a series of computer generated snapshots.  My computer didn’t really have the right software to see the pages properly.  The book fell very short of my expectations. I remember sitting in the car in the car park outside the courier off ice and crying. Disappointment seems too bland a word to describe how I felt.

The book Kevin gave me yesterday is not there yet.  He will not print anything that I am not 100% happy with, or that he is not 100% happy with.  We have reached about 90% on the happiness scale.

This time, yesterday, I sat in the car, in the car park just around the corner from Kevin and the crew and I wasn’t disappointed.  I actually wanted to grab a passer-by, thrust the copy of the book I had in my hand, my third proof, into their hands and say, “This is a great book! It’s full of really great poetry.  And I wrote it.” This is not a book for hiding in the attic.

We all need a Tychicus to turn up during our days to encourage our hearts.  We need to recognise him when he comes.  We need to thank God for the encouragement that he brings!

You’re Amazing!!!!!!!!!!

There was a newspaper article a few weeks ago where Archbishop Vincent Nichols, the leader of the Roman Catholic Church for England and Wales (note the absence of Scotland there!), suggested that social networking websites, texting and e-mails were undermining community life. People were no longer having face to face encounters with real people, but were stuck behind a computer, or hunched over a mobile phone, “talking” to cyber friends. People were losing the skill of reading a person's mood or body language. It was all having a very "dehumanising" effect on our lives.

I doubt that I would ever have found my brother Mike without Facebook. I can’t see that Mike would have written a letter, or made a telephone call or simply just turned up on my doorstep one sunny afternoon. It is more likely that being on the computer anyway, writing one of his witty articles for Costa Life Magazine, he would have popped over to Facebook to see who was posting…and found me.

I confess to liking Facebook! I have 72 “friends” some of whom I have met face to face, some of whom I share more than a few chromosomes with and some whose names I know from the interests we have in common. There are one or two genuine “strangers”.

What I really like about Facebook at the moment is one of the messages that pop up in my notifications. It says, in capital letters “YOU’RE AMAZING!!!!!!!!” It is linked to an on going poll about who likes who! I rarely make the top ten of the best liked among my friends, but I find that the words YOU’RE AMAZING lift my spirit! It may only be a computer generated message to tell me to waste a little bit more time selecting ten of my pals to nominate, but sometimes I just need to be reminded that I am, indeed, amazing!

I have to admit that I would rather someone told me face to face that I am amazing. Over this whole year so far I think I have been pretty amazing! We all need someone to tell us that we are amazing, rather than have them scrutinize our lives to highlight the not-so-amazing things that we do!

I challenge myself! Don’t leave it up to a computer generated message to say to someome “YOU’RE AMAZING!!!!!!!!”

A Modern Day Parable

A tale told echoing the style of Jesus’ parables:-

“A certain woman (me) was traveling along Ingilis Street, from Marks and Spencer’s to the Market Brae Steps (having perused the sales rails in Markies, and thought briefly about buying some “Count on Us” desserts) when she fell into the hands of the Healing on the Streets team. (There was a moment when she considered the merits of disappearing down a side street. Talking about the condition of her sister in hospital is not easy! Tears seem to come too easily these days) They talked to her, lay hands on her and prayed for her and her family with words of great faith and power. (Much of what was said confirmed the words that God had spoken during the week! That was very encouraging! From the mouths of two or more witnesses…) They left her to walk on her way, feeling much built up and encouraged.”

“Her husband happened to be waiting patiently for her outside Woolworth’s. (A place they had arranged to meet after having had a very late and leisurely breakfast – after all, I am on holiday now!) When he saw the woman he asked her, “What took you so long? I have been waiting here for hours!” (Not true at all – he had been waiting for five minutes tops – which is a lot less time than I waited for last night when he said he would phone!) She told him about her encounter with the Healing on the Streets team. He was much built up and encouraged too.”

I forget sometimes that God has not called me to a lonely road of burden bearing! Sometimes I am conscious that my view of the glass being half empty needs to be balanced with a more faith-filled perspective.

Thanks, Mark and the team.

Life in the Spirit

I have to admit that I have found this week to be quite a struggle. Part of the problem has been the absence of my husband who had been away to a training week in Glasgow. Partly I just did not always act in a wise manner and reaped the consequences!

I just dug in real deep with Jesus and spent much more time in His presence. One morning, while reading Romans 8, I was stirred to not just read it is out loud, but to make it personal too. I wrote down each line as a personal declaration.

I am not under condemnation.
I am set free by the law of the Spirit of life.
I can fulfil the righteous requirements of the law because I live according to the Spirit, not according to my sinful nature.
I am controlled by the Spirit.
The Spirit lives in me.
My body is dead because of sin yet alive because of righteousness.
The Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead lives in me.
I receive life in my mortal body through the Spirit who lives in me.
I am not obligated to live according to my sinful nature.
By the Spirit I put to death the misdeeds of the body.
As I am led by the Spirit I demonstrate that I am a child of God.
The Spirit I have received does not make me a slave to fear.
I can confidently call God, “Daddy.”
As a child of God, I am also and heir of God.
I share in his sufferings that I might also share in his glory.

Did I feel better afterwards? That was what I was looking for after all – to feel cheered up! Well, actually no. I was almost treating it like a spell or a magical formula! I could almost see the Spirit shaking His head. This was not about me being cheered up, but about being built up, being reminded of wonderful truths that the situation that I faced couldn’t dismantle.

I would like to say that I did as the Spirit asked – combined the reading of them with faith to make them active in my heart – but I rushed out to work for another bruising day!

I got it right eventually!