So long, 2015

2015 was going to be a Big Year. I planned to sort myself out, 'get my sh*t together'. I revelled in the fresh white page of a new year. I would face the monsters and overcome. 

That resolve lasted precisely 3 days before the aforementioned monsters woke up and smacked me full in the face.

I trudged through January and then February, waiting for the downpour to let up. Little hopes deflated and were washed away by the rain. 

And yet!...

[NB. This is not some Disney story with a neat ending 1 hour 30 minutes in. We're all normal broken humans with good days and bad days, areas of growth and stubborn habits we can't break. I also believe we're all in a daily process of change. So no, I'm not 'sorted' (neither are you... Even if you think you are :P) But it's encouraging to recognise progress!]

And Yet, 'OCD' is not the big label hanging over my 2015. Things got pretty bleak and it felt too hard. But it got better - as it always seems to do, despite my expectations - and there were many pleasant times. Dinners with friends, laughs with my housemate, weddings and dresses and first dates. The guys who came to hang out on Friday night even though they knew I felt sucky and would be bad company. Birthdays at the zoo (yes, the zoo), punting in Cambridge. Driving through Spanish valleys in glorious sunshine with a minibus of friends, blaring out Mumford & Sons. Actually feeling grateful for this life. 

2015 didn't go at all as I had planned. I didn't get the job I wanted; didn't maintain the relationship I started; left a hundred things undone and messages not replied to. But (and I'm not just saying this because it's the end of the blog and don't you love some sense of resolution?), it was many other things that I'd never expected. Despite the bits I just don't understand, I can see glimmers all through the year of the Father who knows me, giving me better dreams than the ones I'd set out on. No, I'm not some 'fixed' adult. But I hope I'm more real and more true: with more fight in me and a whole lot more dependence on my sustainer. Less fussed about a five-year plan and more content with being where I am right now, secure with the one who's in it for the long-haul. 

I hope this is an awesome year for you! I hope it's full of breakthrough moments and steady ascents. Be courageous to do things your own way. 
Recognise when the loudest negative voice is your own, and seek help joyfully, knowing that we were never intended for independence but for mutual support. In everything, run toward and not away from the one who created you and calls you by name. 

And if it's not such a good year for you - if you get to January 29th and you're So Over 2016 - please keep going. It can get better. Yes it's a giant cliche but maybe Florence (or whoever first said it) was actually right. It is always darkest before the dawn. I don't know what stuff you're facing in 2016, but I do know there are beautiful things to be grasped. 

Why I celebrate

I officially hit a quarter of a century - 25 years on the earth - later this week.

I've always loved birthdays, my own and other people's (more on this here). Making it a special day, marking it with something different. I never understood people who said they didn't celebrate their birthdays: why wouldn't you?

And yet this year, I've anticipated my birthday with nothing close to joy or excitement. Having a birthday and - specifically - turning such an undeniably 'adult' age means I can no longer hide behind the guise of being a 'Young Person' or '21 plus a few'. My Peter Pan-like self is forced to come face-to-face with the truth that I am, to all intents and purposes, an adult.

When I was younger and I dealt with these 'worries', I always expected that it would be a passing phase, something I'd grow out of; that by the time I was 'grown up' (whatever that means) I'd be a fully-fledged, fully-functioning adult and these fears would be a distant memory of adolescence. Marking my birthday means facing the painful reality that right now I'm kind of in a place I hoped I'd never be again.

So many people must feel similarly when their day rolls around. I can see why marking 'special' days after the loss of a loved one, a terminal diagnosis, or a relationship breakup is too painful to face.

And Yet. I'm still going to celebrate on that day. Not because life is perfect or particularly happy right now, not because I've achieved what I hoped to by 25 or that I'm where I hoped I'd be, but simply that I have LIFE. Joy may be somewhat eclipsed at the moment, but I still have family and friends who love me and a God who gave me life.

While I have breath in me, I have a reason to thank God for it. While I have life, there is reason to celebrate.
(Heck, there's even more reason after this life, but that's for another time).

When I'm coping okay, I can see the point of all of the above. But when I'm struggling, it feels far from what I want to do. Despite this, I choose to see my birthday as an archetype of the way I wish I lived every day. Not as a day where we pretend life isn't difficult and the world isn't broken, but a celebration of what we have, with a hope for what the future could hold.

Which way?

Maybe it's because it's grey and rainy, and my usually favourite season of autumn 

is showing its unpleasant damp side. Maybe it's the recent changes in my life, or a 

lack of time spent with my Heavenly Father. Or maybe it's just from spending time 

in the presence of good friends facing exactly the same sort of questions. But 

something about life right now seems to be throwing into sharp illumination the 

vague,grey form my life appears to have taken on at the moment. I feel like Rachel,

Phoebe and Monica from Friends in the episode where Rachel realises she has no plan

in life, and Phoebe assents that this stage is 'floopy'. Yes, on one hand, my 

freedom means apparent doors of opportunity, adventure, and possibility ahead - 

but in real life, it usually means a misty fog lying ahead of me, with no clear 

path or even vague light to direct the way. 
 

What is it about this stage of life - post-university, pre-full blown career, 

marriage, family - that makes me, us, feel so directionless? Is it just that we're

so accustomed to having life directed by the education system, or the ties of 

family, that we are thrown by suddenly having to carve out a way for ourselves, by 

ourselves?
 

This sense of 'floopiness' can seep into every part of life - not just work/career, 

though for many of us that's the primary example. My year was one of the last who 

was still instilled with the mantra that one should go to university in order to 

get a good job. Now we're out in the real world, and this mantra has fallen flat 

on its face. Graduates are two-a-penny; degrees appear worthless without 

'experience'; that degree exploring how to make the world a better place seems

 kind of unecessary when we find our jobs wrapped up in writing e-mails and 

ordering stationary. The great, ambitious plans of falling into career out of 

university are unmasked as foolish preconceptions of an easy life.
 

There are all sorts of brilliant talks, books, articles, on guidance, and trusting 

God. I'm aware that so many of our problematic doubts or 'floopy' feelings can 

transpire because of our desire to know what lies ahead and to be in control. 

However, right now, those things don't concern me. I'm not asking for a map-out 

of the next 20 years; I'm just asking for some vague sense of where I go next - 

in careers, in geographical location, in pretty much every aspect of life. And 

I'll admit that I'm impatient; life is too short for me to sit around watching 

life and opportunities to live pass me by. Maybe I should accept that sometimes 

God only allows the fog to lift when we force ourselves to stop and wait on Him. 
 

At times like this, it is far too easy to allow the bleakness of the weather, 

the relative loneliness of post-studenthood life, and the vague mist shrouding 

all that lies ahead, to get the better of me and be overwhelmed by it. As ever, 

my only choice is to force myself to lift my eyes to Him who has seen the end 

from the beginning, and is intimately involved and actually caring about the 

direction of my life. I have to stand, and fight as hard as I can against the 

strong current which seeks to floor me in the face of uncertainty and options. 

I have a choice about the way ahead: I can put my fears and apprehension about 

the future into the hands of him who holds it all; or I can be washed up by the 

sheer enormity of the choices ahead. I need to choose to be comforted by the fact 

that, however I feel on a Monday morning, my life is not directionless, that I Am 

Not on my own in this, and that God Is still at work in my life, even if it feels 

like He's having an extended tea-break.
 

I have to continually remind myself that my trust is in Him who is eternally 

loving, who doesn't forget, or get overwhelmed, or 'drop the ball' on us. 

And that, therefore, my future is in the safest of hands, the most reliable of 

Fathers.  

"...faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see." 

~ Hebrews 11:1

Keeping warm against the January blues

“Meaningless! Meaningless!... Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless!” (Ecclesiastes 1:2)

I really hope you enjoyed that encouraging, positive beginning to the blogs of 2013.

Now let’s be honest here, I’m generally a fairly positive person (I even get chastised for enthusiasm at work). However, yesterday was officially deemed to be ‘Blue Monday’, the most depressing day of the year (or something like that). 

    Now who knows how they reached that kind of consensus (and if you ask me, the way to perk everyone up on a Monday morning is not to announce that this is the day everyone will feel depressed). But I’m also going to be honest and say that this verse did pass through my mind as I trudged home tonight through the slushy remnants of snow and constant freezing temperatures.

It’s stupidly cold, and whilst London is still exciting, I guess in some senses the novelty is wearing off (well it had to, sooner or later). Don’t get me wrong, I’m still very grateful to be here and I LOVE London – but aside from anything else, it’s too darn cold and dark to do much once a day at the office is done.

   5 months into the job, and I start questioning where I am and where I’m going. Actually, let’s just do that for the whole of life. WHERE ARE YOU GOING IN YOUR LIFE? Eh? EH?

But just take one minute to stop; breathe; fix my eyes on Him again, and the blindingly obvious suddenly dawns on me, yet again. 

   This whole putting my future (and come to that, my present) in God’s hands and for His glory – it’s not about my career development, or wearing a big white dress, or future happiness (whatever that even looks like). It’s about Him and me, doing life right now, for His glory. Right now, I don’t even have to be able to see further than tomorrow. He goes before me, and that makes everything possible.

And, breathe.