Monday, 25 March 2013

Broken is Beatiful?

So is broken beautiful? Or is it just messy and obsolete? I passed an old broken boat the other day. There was just enough of it to make out it had been a boat.

It didn't look beautiful. It just looked broken. Surely it's destiny would be to be bright and shiny, sailing the ocean free, not rotting in the mud.

But as I thought about that, I imagined that perhaps it has sacrificed its freedom to become permanently embedded and anchored to a 'home' . And it has become a home for countless little sea animals that live there. Much of the time, when the tide it up, it is completely hidden. It is empty forever of people, but it is full of water. Were the water not from our polluted land, it would be washed clean.

It is broken but it is washed, full of water and it is home. Perhaps there can be beauty in brokenness.

Sunday, 17 March 2013


So I was out walking in an old lane and saw this sign...................

Now the sign was written in old English font and the spelling 'olde' is an ancient spelling. A coach house was traditionally an inn (i.e. pub) in the days long before cars - days of coaches and horses. On a long journey, the coach would stop at a coach house to get fresh horses, or you might stay overnight there or take you would expect an Old Coach house to be a welcoming place for weary travellers, a historically interesting, old, inn.
Well this is what the Olde Coach House was...

What a let down. It was obviously - despite the sign - new, complete with solar panels! Nothing traditional or historical about it. It did not look like visitors would be welcome - CCTV and alarms all round, and big sparkling bars to keep people out.

It made me think.
So often I take things at face value because of how they are named, or signed.

 I keep hearing that church is a family, but families do not just see each other once a week. Families have time for each other.

I am not saying there is no love at church. There is. But it is not a family. I cannot just roll up at someones house just slop on their sofa and know I am welcome. I might be welcome if it is convenient, but if they are busy - go away.

I keep bumping against boundaries. Boundaries should be to keep strangers or unwelcome guests out, not family. Don't family have permission to 'come on in'? Perhaps not to the bedrooms, but certainly to the downstairs rooms.

Our definitions and labels say one thing, but the truth is different. It would be a foolish person to see the sign to the Olde Coach House and just wander in, taking no notice that everything about it screams 'private' and 'keep out unless you own a key'.

For my own safety and sanity I have to look beyond the labels. My house has no label. I don't think I could live up to it if it did. I am not always friendly looking, I can be suspicious, even prickly on days. But I never turn anyone away.

Surely having time for one another is the base line.

 I John 3:18 Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.

Forgive me if I sound bitter, forgiveness is a work in progress.

Saturday, 16 March 2013


So where have I been?

It's over a year since I posted. I wrote 'the pain of loving', and put the blog out there. Then a few friends asked if I blogged, and I gave out the blog address only to be challenged about the various things I have said. I should have taken on board my own words! The pain of loving indeed.

My heart felt violated. Yes this is public, but why do people who live nearby prefer to see my heart online instead of over a coffee?

It is a short cut to my heart.

Not only were they preferring an instant insight that cost little time or vulnerability on their part, but my heart was judged and my words were used against me.

By putting my heart online I am saying, 'this is worth something...what God is doing in me...this is precious.' It is out there in the hope of connecting with fellow travellers who may be on a similar journey.

I am becoming convinced that we are, that you and I are His Beloved. Just as He is mine.

And he doesn't qualify his love, he doesn't wait until we are healed, set free and sorted out. He takes us in our brokenness, so that He can shine through all the more like treasure in clay jays.

The last months have been a difficult and painful journey. I have been battling with feelings of betrayal and abandonment, I have been aware of lies and offences been thrown at me. Ah the battle to avoid bitterness taking root.

And I have felt gagged. I have felt a pressure, in knowing who reads this blog, to sounding spiritual. To say the right things. Knowing that any wrong things may be taken down and used in evidence against me. Knowing that some of my deep heart feelings may be bandied about as if they cost nothing to write.

And yet here I am, writing again! Why?

Well I have changed the blog name and removed followers who live nearby, lest I be judged, and this blog name will just be hidden amongst thousands of others, and may only be stumbled upon by weary travellers wondering if they could possibly be Beloved too. Oh, and you are. So Beloved.

Perhaps old and distant friends may find their link still works and that is fine. You are welcome here.

I want to be honest. Authentic. Without feeling threatened or that I am TMNE (too much or not enough.) One day I will have the courage to be that authentic with all whom I know. But that day is not today, for my heart has been damaged, and trust is a hard commodity to find right now.

I feel like I have been left with so little and yet so much.

I look around, and apart from my fantastic husband (and that is a Big exception) I see few people nearby. Perhaps my increasingly prickly reactions or my retreat has pushed them away, but really it is ok. Forgiveness is starting to flow as I drink the cup Jesus drank. Yet increasingly, my vision is filled with Him. Utterly beautiful.

Bless you my lord for daring to walk this painful road before any of us, and in a depth we will never experience.