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Today I sorted out all the school work I've ever done. Mum is a notorious hoarder and has kept everything I've done since reception. Needless to say most of it is going in the bin!
It was strange looking through it all... especially stuff from lessons like PSE (Personal and Social Education) lessons with questions like "What are your good qualities? What do you not like about yourself?" It's like looking back at different people sometimes, and it's weird seeing which bits I've thrown out of me and which bits I've kept, and discovering things I'd just forgotten about.
When I was five, I was going to live in a house made of pastry and fudge when I grew up. When I was ten, I thought I'd have a husband and children and grandchildren by 2036 and I would be running a teashop. That seems a little ambitious for 52... I was never brilliant at Maths!
Today has been productive. I filled in an application form for holiday club work that I'm really pleased with and they're going to think I'm totally amazing and employ me instantly! (Hey, I can dream!) I've also decided that youth work is the field I'm going to go for. All the work experience and voluntary things I've done have been with children and I really enjoy it, so that's my plan. Some kind of further education or training in the next few years is probably in order... a stop at the careers centre first though.Pondering of the day - is the church built on Peter or Peter's confession of faith? I always thought it was just a wordplay on Peter's name - you are Peter (Petros in Greek) and on this rock (Petra... his confession of faith?) I'll build my church. (Paraphrased badly from Matt 16). It seems pretty silly for Jesus to build his church on a person, makes much more sense for it to be built on the foundation of truth rather than a flawed human. The NIV study Bible says either could be right, as Eph 2:20 talks about the church being built on the foundation of "apostles and prophets", but it fails to mention that the rest of the verse is that Christ is the "chief cornerstone". I still think the foundation being the confession of faith is more likely. I have faaar too much time on my hands.
I'm getting into Philip Glass, especially his Violin Concerto - the first movement is brimming with energy and moodiness, it's fantastic. Have a listen to an excerpt here. I'm also enjoying John Rutter's Distant Land, which includes a brilliant Beatles Concerto for orchestra and two pianos. It's big and dramatic in true Romantic style!
I thought I'd found my perfect full time job, working with children in a holiday club-type environment, but it's exactly that, a holiday job working for the council playschemes that run during school holidays. I'm going to apply anyway, as the holidays are approaching and it's good pay. Plus it doesn't require any formal childcare qualifications. Having A Levels doesn't seem to count for anything at the moment, most jobs require GCSEs, experience, or specific qualifications.
I've been going to Proclaimers Church in Norwich for several weeks now and finding it challenging and interesting. One of the things that irritates me about my previous church is the apparant lack of passion for God, but Proclaimers is more charismatic and the passion there is contagious! I'm finding it a challenging experience not only because of the good preaching but because of the way they embrace the Holy Spirit, which in some ways is quite new to me. I always seem to be a passive observer with the Holy Spirit, more often watching proceedings in wonder or bewilderment rather than participating in any way. I'm watching a discussion about the Holy Spirit on NYFC's forum with interest, and wondering why the whole thing is such an alien concept to me in 11 years of being a Christian. I'm looking forward to getting more involved in Proclaimers, it's great to find a place where I'm comfortable with the people but being challenged by the content.
"I had always heard your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the second before you die. First of all, that one second isn't a second at all, it stretches on forever, like an ocean of time... For me, it was lying on my back at Boy Scout camp, watching falling stars... And yellow leaves, from the maple trees, that lined my street... Or my grandmother's hands, and the way her skin seemed like paper... And the first time I saw my cousin Tony's brand new Firebird... And Janie... And Janie... And... Carolyn. I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me... but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry... you will someday."
~ Lester Burnham, American Beauty, 1999
Being at home with Mum is frustrating. She follows this 'prophet' who is beginning to have a very strong hold over her. He leads a group of her and her friends, acting as 'spiritual head' to the women, as they believe the correct way to get to God is for a woman to look to her man and the man to have Jesus as his head. They believe strange things, like reincarnation (Mum is convinced that there are very few are new spirits - her spirit was previously a person in the crowd at Jesus' crucifiction, and at some point the widow of a fisherman). Sometimes I'm surprised they bother reading the Bible, although the latest news is that this guy is planning to do a translation of the Bible - apparantly the people who have done translations have done it all wrong because they don't have the 'special sight' that he has. This 'special sight' includes being able to see people's auras and energy. I've been that I give out very bad energy, often at times when I'm completely calm and passive and nice. (But of course, I don't realise what energy I really give out).
I've gone over and over all this in my head, and talked to Christians I respect about it, who have assured me that it's right to think Mum is wrong, but she still has the power to scare me. Yesterday she gave me a serious preachy talk about the perils of ignoring a prophet of God. She pointed me to Deuteronomy 18, so I read it later:
'The LORD said to me: "What they say is good. I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their brothers; I will put my words in his mouth , and he will tell them everything I command him. If anyone does not listen to my word that the prophet speaks in my name, I myself will call him to account. But a prophet who presumes to speak in my name anything I have not commanded him to say, or a prophet who speaks in the name of other gods, must be put to death."'
Obviously I'm hoping this situation falls into the second category, but there are still times when I'm unsure, especially when I'm at a low with God and I'm wondering if life as a Christian would be more fruitful and blessed if I were to believe this guy and listen to everything he says. The horrible thing is that Mum is constantly going on about loving me properly, at meal times she always thanks God for sending her this prophet and asks for help to love me properly. We don't have a good relationship, we're perfectly civil but I wouldn't say I love her, which worries me because she follows her prophet and she tries to love me (to the point of smothering me with affection, which is difficult to cope with when she's not shown much love in the past few years), yet I'm trying to follow God and I can't even bring myself to smile at her sometimes. I don't know if that speaks of her rightness or my inadequacy as a Christian. Definately the latter... possibly the former as well, I really don't know.
Prayer appreciated!
I’ve been reading through Mark recently. In an effort to make my quiet times more regular and not so much of a chore (I don’t believe spending time reading God’s word should ever become a chore) I’ve been using The Message paraphrase. It may not be fully accurate but it does capture the energy of the original text, which makes it an exciting experience and puts a different perspective on passages that have become familiar before being understood. Yesterday this passage struck me:
Calling the crowd to join his disciples, [Jesus] said, “Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You’re not in the driver’s seat; I am. Don’t run from suffering, embrace it. Follow me and I’ll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to saving yourself, your true self. What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you? What could you ever trade your soul for?
(Mark 8:34-37, TM)
In Jesus’ time, with him physically standing there, saying “follow me” might not be so puzzling, but it seems a somewhat strange concept to me at times. It means being in constant contact with Jesus, communicating with him (both speaking and listening) and doing what he says. Sometimes the apparant legalism or religiousness of doing a regular quiet time gets me, but the goodness of having constant contact with Jesus outstrips that and I wonder why I don't spend every waking minute with him.
I’m very sorry about the lack of blogging recently, and the poor quality. Often I feel like I’m too pre-occupied with trying to get to grips with life to have any deep or inspiring thoughts about it!
Spring, however, started today (honestly, it did, it was warm and sunny for quite a while this morning!) and, after a productive few days I’m ready to blog again. It feels more like three months, no three weeks, since I was at uni in St Andrews. Apart from the beach and my housemates, I really don’t miss it. I passed my exams though (miracle of my year!) so I have 60 credits to show for it. I’m currently job hunting which is a degrading experience, simply because of the way Job Centre staff treat people. They’re very nice but a little patronising. It is a motivation to find a job quickly though.
One of the things that annoyed me about the issue of university was the assumption that, because I was capable of A Levels, I should go. Having attended for a term, I’m convinced I was right, I shouldn’t have let myself be swept along by others’ advice. (By “others” I mean teachers, career advisors etc). There are so many factors in people’s lives that there cannot be one set formula for life. Even the several paths that are available are not diverse enough. My plans, now that I’ve had time to think properly about it, are to work for the next academic year and go to university after that. I’m thinking about studying English at the moment, a subject I did consider briefly before, but dismissed too quickly! I’m certain I won’t be going back to St Andrews. Much as I love the town and Scotland, it’s just not where I want to be at this point in my life.
Leaving university has made me realise that there must be a compromise between giving in to society’s demands with no question and deliberately not doing anything society expects purely to be different and free. In practical terms, I’ve realised the need for and value of a degree, but I stand firm in my decision to leave and won’t be going back until I’m ready.
The worst news of the last three weeks was breaking up with Ben. A week on, I can see that it was the right thing to happen. I did cry and take refuge in Bridget Jones though…
“It’s no good. When someone leaves you, apart from missing them, apart from the fact that the whole little world you’ve created together collapses, and that everything you see or do reminds you of them, the worst is the thought that they tried you out and, in the end, the whole sum of parts which adds up to you get stamped REJECT by the one you love. How can you not be left with the personal confidence of a passed-over British Rail sandwich?” (‘Bridget Jones’ Diary’ by Helen Fielding)
Ben, the brilliant friend that he is, quoted a bit from ‘Much Ado About Nothing’ which has been helpful in alleviating the moping!
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more;
Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never;
Then sigh not so,
But let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny;
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into Hey nonny, nonny.
Sigh no more ditties, sigh no mo
Of dumps so dull and heavy;
The frand of men was ever so,
Since summer first was leavy.
Then sigh not so,
But let him go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into, Hey nonny, nonny.
