The Upper Room

The Upper Room

A man with a jar of water. That’s who we’re looking for. That’s who Jesus told us would meet us. Thing is, you just don’t see that. A bloke, I mean, with a water jar. It’s always the women. I sometimes don’t get him. I glance over at John, who shrugs at me, drawing his hand over his sweat-soaked brow. ‘Can you see anyone?’ He shakes his head. We drag ourselves onwards, the heat of the day pounding us, wrapping…

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Tale Older than Time

Tale Older than Time

Beauty and the Beast? I’m going to do that thing where you say ‘Ah! That’s a bit like Jesus, that is.’ Sorry. So Adventure Girl and I finally went to see the new movie version. The 90s cartoon version was her favourite film as a little girl, and the movie took me back to hazy Sunday afternoons slumped on the sofa, catching up on sleep while my little girl with her endless energy spun around the room in her somewhat…

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Seen from a Scene

Seen from a Scene

I sleep fitfully, aware of you close by, so new, so needy, so I wake quickly to the sound. A kind of humming, gaining in volume, a resounding harmony of resonance. It pulls at my soul, something deep within, a knowledge I didn’t know of.  And then the light. First a chink of light, snaking down the mud-packed wall, a crack in the fabric which makes no sense in the dead of night. I glance around; you are sleeping quietly,…

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A Walk Through Sacred

A Walk Through Sacred

On the last but one night at New Wine 2016, I took a walk through the camp. A normal stroll, an everyday thing. An achievement for me, certainly, but it turned out to be so much more, because the ordinary hurtled me headlong into the sacred. It was a balmy evening, the last rays of sunshine bathing the showground in a gentle light, the only sign of a huge deluge a few hours before a few puddles where welly-clad toddlers…

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Bridges, not barriers.

Bridges, not barriers.

I’m feeling desperately sad. Not just because of the referendum result, though that’s part of it, but because of how it is polarising people in the UK (and beyond) even more than before. On social media, I’m observing fights break out between folks I love, ugly words, unpleasant judgments. If #Bremain had won, there would doubtless be the same polarisation. I don’t claim to have the answer. But the process has left me in little doubt that there is a…

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Christmas: It’s for the sorted, right?

Christmas: It’s for the sorted, right?

Here I am; another Christmas, another infection. Actually, the last two Christmasses have been good, infection free, and I’ve been free to join in with all that seems to make Christmas – carol singing, present buying and wrapping, Christmas meals out, Christmas food. I’ve been in on that this year too, well, up to two days ago, when my lungs decided they weren’t going to play ball. Since then, I’ve lain in bed or on the sofa, again observing Christmas…

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Advent Shadows

Advent Shadows

It’s Advent Sunday, and I started the day grumpy. I’ve been poorly for the past month and the antibiotics are taking their toll while not winning over the infection. Yet. They will. So we decide to get some of the advent stuff out and do home church, which is so lovely as it’s been a while since I got to church, but I then take my grumpiness out on the Adventurous pair and feel rubbish. When every movement hurts, takes…

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Unproductive

Unproductive

I’ve been frequenting various author/writing blogs lately in my novel-writing mission, but have found that I feel fairly depressed after browsing too many of them. Now this could merely be due to the fact that they actually procrastinate the very thing they advocate, ie actual, real Writing. Or, it could be something more, something whch seems to strike at the heart of me. These blogs are exhausting. All written by successful people with twenty zillion followers and thousands of perfect…

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Belief and Suffering

Belief and Suffering

Today I’m guest posting over at Mummy From The Heart, my lovely friend Mich’s blog, on why I’m still a Christian despite the suffering I see all around me and experience in my life. Thanks Mich for the opportunity. 🙂 <a href=”http://www.bloglovin.com/blog/7104111/?claim=y9d65kr5r5y”>Follow my blog with Bloglovin</a>

Dear Aylan

Dear Aylan

Dear Aylan,We’re sorry you died.We don’t like the picture.But you know, it’s not our problem. Not our problem, those hordes of the nameless,escaping from places unknownand oppression undreamed of. Not our problem, the baby at the border,screaming in a languagealien to us. Not our problem, your mother and brother,drowned as you fled,hope exstinguished. Not our problem, those immigrants,we can’t let them in,they’ll take our jobs,and our money. Not our problem,the unfaced on Keleti station,they can deal with them. Not our…

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