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. 

On suffrage and sacrifice

Last week I had the pleasure of seeing Suffragette.
Watch it. No, really. I don't care if you don't approve of their militant actions. Nor if you think that feminism has 'gone too far'. Everyone should see it.

As the lights came up and I hastily sorted my smudged eyes, I realised that my limited knowledge of suffragettes had come mainly from Mrs Banks in Mary Poppins. Sure, I had heard about force-feeding and some woman stepping in front of the king's horse... but it had remained an interesting, fantastical piece of general knowledge (like most other history lessons, really).

Instead of a rambunctious upper-class lady partial to breaking into song, I was confronted with the reality of suffrage. Malnourished, shamed and homeless women, giving everything - jobs, husbands, children - for this cause they believed in. It was inspiring to see this relatively recent show of sacrifice. These women believed they were fighting for something greater than their own lives, greater than commitment to husbands or children. And this demonstration of giving up everything felt rather alien to me.

Which is ironic, I guess, given that I've been a Christian for however many years and know Jesus' teaching about "take up your cross and follow me". It's just that as a teenager, that meant putting up with being mocked at school for my faith; and as an adult, accepting that the 'pool' of prospective romantic partners becomes pretty small if you narrow the search to only Christians. Are these things sacrifice? I'm not sure. They haven't stopped me from carving out the idea of a pleasant time on earth, enjoying fullness of life through Jesus and (hopefully) having a vaguely merry time of it.

[NB. Good news: faith in Jesus doesn't mean your life will be awful - that's *not* what I'm trying to say.]

But the idea that I have something so much greater even than women's rights or social justice, to give up my life for - I guess it just hasn't really had to occur to me living in the millennial Western world.

It's never occurred to me that I might actually have to give everything for the sake of the gospel. In theory, I've known and accepted it: but the chance of having to give up home, familial relationships or life for the gospel has always (thankfully) been pretty low.

What am I saying? Not that we should give up our current lives and go live in caves, or off of wild locusts and honey. But just that when you remember the call of Christian sacrifice - being prepared to give our lives, even - and the hope set before us in Jesus, it changes your perspective on Right Now.

If the core of who I am is striving for God's glory, his kingdom, seeing his face - then the tiny sacrifices I make now will be fairly insignificant. The idea of not getting married seems rather inconsequential when I'm faced with what any sacrifice would be for: the reality of Jesus; the truth of salvation; the hope of everything we've been promised.

Ode to the Hopefuls

This is for us
Who are still fighting
Holding on to wavering and (at times) blind, hope

That today and yesterday and the day before do not have to be the pattern for tomorrow
That yesterday's thought does not have to dictate tomorrow's feeling

That love is not just for the lucky or the strong
But for those of us who are still waiting, still hoping
with the scaffolding around us, still Under Repair

To hope against hope that the future can be different
even when the past trails a twisting pattern
of breaking and restoration

To hope, because hope is the only thing
between ourselves and admitting defeat

To hope in the face of deafening, unrelenting fears
at which dreams crumble to dust
leaving you winded and bent double

And even then to hope, because you know
the One who conquered death and lives to make you new again.

I am Happy.

This month's blog comes with a disclaimer: there is a small chance that I am currently under the influence, that is, inebriated, with the heady, blissful fragrance of spring sunshine. 

That's right, after seemingly endless months of grey, freezing days, I am FINALLY enjoying a warm spring evening. At one point I truly did believe that the White Witch had returned to curse us with an eternal winter, but surely as my hope in Jesus has not been displaced, neither has my trust that spring would, finally, arrive. 

I say I'm under the influence because it is shocking and (some might say) concerning how affected I am by this gorgeous sunny weather. 

But, whilst fully accepting the role a healthy dose of much-needed vitamin D has played on my mood, I feel the need to declare that, aside from this, 

I am happy.

I'm really happy.

I LOVE life.

It’s fair to say that anyone who's known me for a while knows that I would not always have said this, and I'm not the type of person to slap a fake smile on a crappy situation. I'm for authenticity - being real when things are tough, saying it as it is. I believe our hope in Jesus frees us to admit not only our blessings but our struggles and sorrows.

Last year, if I'm truly honest with you, a lot of the time I did not love life.

Sometimes (without being melodramatic), I severely disliked life. But just as I felt the need to be honest about that, I feel the need now to declare that right now, life is REALLY good. 

Most of the time, I'm not struggling with crippling anxiety. I'm peaceful and confident and fiercely determined to fight this beast. 

I live in an amazing city. I LOVE it. Yes, you all get sick of me posting countless pictures of Big Ben. But I do it because I'm still so excited to be living and working in this iconic place. I'm amazed at this blessing, to not only have a job, one I can cope with, but where the people are friendly. Actually, most of the time my job is really pretty dull. But in this time and season, God's not only giving me an opportunity to develop important skills for working life, but is also teaching me about His ability to be glorified through all aspects of our work, however boring or menial.

I have amazing relationships that are life- and joy-giving, some that are deeply rooted and others that are in their infancy. 

I'm at a place in life where, crazily enough, despite not knowing what my 'next step' is and without a plan, I am happy, peaceful and content. Within the last year, I've come from a place of sometimes despair, through fear, uncertainty, and through to a current place of flourishing and fruitfulness. If you look back to my blog from 6 months ago, I was feeling daunted and very apprehensive about this new place God had brought me to. And yet embracing this new place and season of life has, I believe, been God’s way of bringing me out into a spacious and fruitful place, one where I can grow.

For that the only One to be praised is the living God, who daily shows his power in restoring broken things for His glory, and making beautiful things out of ugly situations.

When things are really good like this, I get scared – things can’t be this good, I can’t be this healthy – surely something will go wrong. And yet, in Jesus, I have the freedom to fully embrace the fact that this peace and happiness may only be a season, and could be interrupted by sorrow or relapse. However, that’s not for me to know. Right now I’m in a place of flourishing, happiness, and gratitude for all of this.

I have to remind myself that my happiness is ultimately not grounded in whether the sun shines or life looks sunny, but in my unshakeable Saviour and the hope I have in Him.

On Love.

“They say that Home is Where the Heart is

- I guess I haven’t found my home”

(Ingrid Michaelson, 'Are We There Yet?')

The Valentines season - and all the gooey sincere and not-so-sincere sentiment it brings with it - helped me to re-evaluate my own thoughts on love. Now this is by no means a put-down of love, committed relationships, marriage or any of that malarkey. But when cards and songs scream out about ‘Finding The One’, it suddenly dawned on me that, mercifully, I don’t need to do that.

And not even because ‘ I'm okay on my own’ – I'm not. I can admit that I needed saving.  

I was made out of love and to love, by a relational God - I can’t do life without relationships. 

However, I realised recently the incredibly freeing fact that I have already found ‘the One’ – (or we may argue, He found me). I’m not on the look-out for that ‘special someone’ any more. He came and found me, loved me when I was unlovely and hated him, and died that I might be able to enjoy this special relationship with Him. I've never known a love like it, and never will. I HAVE found my home, my heart does have a resting place and I know it’s safe in His hands (to quote Phil Wickham).

So whilst I might see lots of beauty and good things in relationships and marriage, I don’t need to pine for them as my ‘end goal’. I already have it, that thing that fulfils its promise to satisfy. And I've been promised that I’ll never be separated from this love. WEHEY!! This is incredible news, surely.

This doesn't mean I'm always happy being single and Do Not want to get married. It’s just helped me a little to re-evaluate my attitude towards those things. I don’t need to be pitied by people in relationships (any more than I should pity them) – we are both blessed. I haven’t ‘pulled the short straw’. In his book The Meaning of Marriage, Tim Keller highlights a number of often-used reasons why Christian singles are not married. (My favourite is, ‘“As soon as you’re satisfied with God alone, he’ll bring someone special into your life” – as though God’s blessings are ever earned by our contentment”).

Keller also quotes a woman who says, 

“I am not single because I am too spiritually unstable to possibly deserve a husband, nor because I am too spiritually mature to possibly need one. I am single because God is so abundantly good to me, because this is his best for me... I may meet someone and walk down the aisle in the next couple of years because God is so good to me. I may never have another date... because God is so good to me” (Paige Benton Brown, in Keller pp 110-111, 119). 

This has really helped me to have a more realistic view of marriage and of singleness. Yes, it’s hard sometimes when everyone around you appears to be loved-up (in restaurants, clubs and - my pet peeve - on Underground escalators. Just GET A ROOM)...... anyyywayy.... But it’s also hard for married people when they want to go out and have a drink with other single friends, but need to put the washing on for their spouse or look after the kids. Swings and roundabouts.

Ultimately, the thing that will keep me going if I'm not feeling so chirpy about singleness, is that first paragraph – and the love I know I already possess. I don’t require anything more. Maybe a romantic relationship would be a nice added bonus. But I guess it’s trying to find contentment in every situation, like Paul says (Philippians 4:11-13). And, moreover, to trust the one who has freely given me such beautiful and abounding love, that “I may meet someone and walk down the aisle in the next couple of years because God is so good to me. I may never have another date... because God is so good to me”.

For more thoughts on love, 

• Read Tim and Kathy Keller, 'The Meaning of Marriage'. It is the best book I have read on relationships, singleness and marriage. It is FANTASTIC. Go read it.
• Check out www.pcpc.org/ministries/singles/singledout.php for Paige Benton Brown's whole article

'Be My Valentine'

Don’t worry, folks. This isn't going to be like my Christmas blog.

For starters, I actually like Christmas.... no but really, this isn't going to be a rant.

The ‘Big Day’ hits us next Thursday, meaning that since mid-January (but especially noticeable this week) we have been subjected to red envelopes, an overkill of hearts and teddybears, and a load of largely useless and slightly trashy love-related gifts. Including, for instance, a piece of plastic which promises to stamp hearts into your toast. Hearts? On a piece of toast? Come on. It’s not exactly a handy gadget, is it?

I'm sure I'm in no way alone in inwardly wanting to vom at this overbearing display of genuine (and not-so-genuine) affection for one’s Valentine. A phrase from our beloved Single Lady (no, not Bridget Jones – the other one) – Miranda – has been circling through my mind the last few days: “I don’t know who Saint Valentine was, but I hope that he died alone, surrounded by couples”. Fair play.

And I know what you’re all thinking. Especially you couples/married ones. “This has ‘Bitter Singleton’ written all over it”. And due to this not being the case, I feel the need to set the message straight. Firstly, Valentines as an idea is really sweet. And yes, I'm sure Valentine’s season would be less overbearing if I had a hot date lined up and roses delivered to the door, but even with that alternative reality, there is something undeniably superficial, disingenuous perhaps, about the Valentines season. This is at least partly to do with the fact that (and NO, this is not bitterness speaking), it has become such a big deal through the fuelling of the ‘season’ by card shops, gift shops, flower shops, restaurants, hotels etc. Kind of like the way Christmas has been taken over. Except (and yes, this is bitterness speaking), Christmas is not an exclusive holiday where one is meant to feel happy or sad depending on whether they have been given a card saying ‘Bee Mine’ (cringe).

It’s not like Valentines is still just a quaint way of telling someone that you like them, or reminding someone that you love them. I was in a card shop today and saw two different cards which simply read – no joke – “Your willy makes me happy”. REALLY, people?!! Come on. We were made for more than this.

If Valentines is about two people who deeply love each other (and, preferably, can express that without sucking each other’s face’s off in public), then I'm all for it. It’s sweet and how can you not be happy when two people fall in love?

However, if and when Valentines is about finding a randomer to send a card/pair of knickers to, ‘because it’s Valentines’, then all that does is expose our desperate need to be wanted and desired.

That’s an understandable human emotion. But why go searching in that way when all the love you ever needed is available to you? I know someone who has loved you since before the creation of the world, and showed it by giving Himself up so that we could know Him and know His love. That might not feel as ‘warm and fuzzy’ as receiving a red envelope next Thursday, but it surely counts for a heck of a lot more.

No, it's Not Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas

   Firstly, a disclaimer: I am very much not a Scrooge. I LOVE Christmas! I'm beginning to get excited about it and very much looking forward to heading home to the countryside for a proper break.

However.

Surely I'm not the only one who thinks it is, at best, ridiculous, that some shops have been playing Christmas music already for two weeks?

I'm already tired of hearing the canned jingles of the same three Christmas songs repeated again and again, and am now convinced that such torture could turn Father Christmas himself into a Grinch.
I don't know how Sales Assistants cope.

Yes, I'm all for a bit of festive merriment, but c'mon: it's the frikkin' 5TH DECEMBER! We still have 20 whole days to go before we actually celebrate this. I don't want Christmas songs playing in every shop I walk into between now and then!

To be fair, I'm sick of Mariah's 'All I want for Christmas....' before we're five seconds in (the irony of playing this in a shop selling perfume, diamonds, jewellery and all the other things she wants is apparently lost on the shop management).
  I don't want to hear Chris Ree's 'Driving Home for Christmas' (which, by the way, I love) on the 5th December! The only people 'driving home for Christmas' today are students.
Or, people who are driving from here to Australia for Christmas. But other than them, my argument still stands.

I know it's a much bemoaned fact but playing Christmas songs - more than that, all the frivolities of Christmas, from the moment we hit December - are nothing short of ridiculous. I've been putting off getting the Christmas tree - if you get it on December 1st, surely it's well and truly dead by the time we're meant to take it down on January 6th? And a withering, brown Christmas tree can arguably be a metaphor for all the festivities: exciting, but very temporary and with insufficient substance to last the 2 months festive season.

Some people make such a big deal about it from mid-November that by the time the 25th rolls around we're even a little bored of Christmas. No wonder the moment Boxing Day is over people are hurrying to get the decorations packed away.

At times like this, when crazy Christmas shoppers on Oxford Street tempt me to chuck my shopping at the nearest stranger, yelling 'I GIVE UP!', I can be truly thankful that there is more to it to this.

Without, y'know, the whole True Meaning of Christmas thing, the whole fiasco just seems like a big excuse to spend money that we don't have on things we don't want, in the name of 'Family' and Bing Crosby ballads and 'feeling Christmassy'. Thank God that even if the turkey's frozen in the middle and your Amazon products don't arrive in time, there is ACTUALLY a reason for joy, love and all those other smushy words people use during the festive season.

When you reflect on the notion that this all came from God choosing to come to earth Himself, to save us from pain, sorrow, but primarily from ourselves and our mess, whether there's a Kindle for me under the tree isn't all that important. The beautiful permanence of this sharply contrasts with the paper hats which will be crumpled by the end of dinner and the tree which will sit outside sadly withering away.