I Believe

My inner- writer will give me no rest until I do this. That is, write a Statement of Faith.

This is SO HARD. What possible purpose would it serve? Who knows or cares?

I'm time-wasting, because as of this very moment, I have no idea what I'm going to say. So it's down to my subconscious to bail me out again: I shall take this opportunity to give my Right Brain the reins, and let rip:

I know that the Cosmos of which I am a speck, is more than 99% void. I look upon the void with wonder. I wonder that I am matter, and I wonder that I am conscious. Life is of inestimable value, conscious life even more so. I, you, everyone: so rare, so precious.

There rises from deep within me a profound gratitude for Being. This gratitude is unfocused, but real. I delight in every manifestation of life, especially in those three lives I helped to bring into Being. My children.

I have searched and searched for meaning, and for a purpose in my life, and have not arrived at any conclusions. This is what I think today, tomorrow I shall be as happy as I am now to write something quite different.

As there are as many purposes in life as there are gurus to tell me what they are, I may as well invent my own. Like you, I will do this in accordance with my personality, my upbringing and my circumstances.

I discovered that ' I believe ' is too passive. So I ditched it for, I will. And maybe I will. I hope so! Here I am:

I will do what brings me peace.

I will pursue happiness.

I will revel in adventure.

I will make myself laugh, and in doing so, I hope to make others laugh too.

I will endeavour to gladden the hearts of those I meet, and I will not always succeed.

If I have to be angry at all, it will be FOR others, and not with them.

I will try always to be kind.

I will react to the suffering of others - in all it's manifestations - with compassion, and I will,when I can, do what I can to alleviate it.

I will retreat into silence from time to time to connect with Gratitude, and give thanks for Being.

I will never forget how to play.

I will accept that this form will fade and die. Whether there is another form to come, doesn't matter: this one flawed, but perfect, life will have been enough.

I will make every day count by continuously calling myself back to being conscious and present in every moment.

I will remember love: that it is the most lavish and beautiful of gifts, that it never dies, and is never wasted.

I will try to remember how flawed I am, and bring no judgement down on others.

I will forgive myself for my imperfections, and offer the same gift to others.

And finally:

I will remind you, wherever you are, whoever you are, that you are loved.

Who Am I Lord? Who are You?

The title of this blog post is a prayer of St Francis of Assisi, or so I’m told. No reason to doubt it. A beautiful lead in to a period of contemplative prayer. 

Who am I? 

Rather oddly, I’ve never really taken to my name. I’ll sign with it, and answer to it, but it’s always felt borrowed rather than given, if you know what I mean. It was my godmother’s name, chosen over “Myfanwy” which was my dad’s first choice. He got his way in the end, because he was an aficionado of the Home Service of the BBC, which at the time of my introduction to the world, was serialising Daphne Du Marier’s, “Jamaica Inn” and dad was much taken with the barmaid, one, “Mary Yellan”. He misheard it as “Mary Ellen,” so Ellen was tagged on as a consolation prize, and became the name my parents used when I was in trouble. 

“Mary” is occasionally translated as “sweetness” and Ellen as, “light.” So thank you mum and dad! 

I am much into the theme of identity in Christ, as propounded all over YouTube by Jamie Winship. He has some very interesting things to say on identity, witnessing to  a Christ that doesn’t need Christianity to bring healing and wholeness to a broken world. (Well, Duh!) 

I’m going off track a bit, but bear with me. When in conversation with an enquirer Winship will  say, “I can explain that to you, or Jesus can talk to you right now, which do you want?” Then asks Jesus to do just that. Look him up if you want to know if this works. 

Who am I? Winship asked Christ to reveal his true identity and he is “Militant Peacemaker.” He takes Christ, though not Christianity, to Muslims.  

So, encouraged to give this asking God what my true Name is, a go, I discovered it’s “My Beloved!” Beat THAT, barmaid of the Jamaica Inn! 

Out of curiosity, I asked AI what “Myfanwy” translates into in English. You’ll never believe it if I told you. 

Talking About Revival

Many of us say, glibly, “We’re Bible-believing Christians.” But are their limits to this belief? 

This morning, shortly after the fourth decade of the Rosary, when contemplating Jesus’ baptism, I began to wonder about the descent of the Holy Spirit. 

Of course I believe that Jesus was full of the Spirit. Just look at what he achieved, but when reading THIS, I hit a buffer: 

 “And you also were included in Christ when you heard the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation. When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God's possession—to the praise of his glory." Ephesians 1:13-14

Is St Paul referring to ME? 

I always knew it to be true. The amazing gift of God’s own Spirit, the Third Person of the Holy Trinity is too wonderful to comprehend. Maybe I’ve just untied the bow and peeked at Glory, hastily retreating into the commonplace:this God-being is too much for me! 

“Think again!” A whisper from somewhere, or Someone else. “What if the commonplace, is where we meet?”

“Let’s give it a go,”  I said, aloud.

So We went weeding. It was hard work, and exasperating, this attempt to eliminate the ivy that was strangling the sage. But there was something different. Having invited God to be present, made it more purposeful somehow. You’ll know what I mean.

“Let’s go to Linda’s for coffee!” Ray returning from an errand was up for a treat. 

And that’s when it happened. Threads that were disparate and disjointed in time and place began to weave themselves together. I spoke to Linda of meeting with Di and Emma at The Ark Cafe, of praying for the town, for the world, for Revival. Linda spoke of the Vinyard Church in Gloucester, and I remembered. I have seen revival. How could I not have known? 

1985, Wembley Conference Centre “Signs And Wonders Conference.” I attended as an Evangelican Anglican from St John and St Matthew’s Church near Rainham in Essex. Day One, The keynote speaker and Vinyard Church founder,  John Wimber stands up and reads from Matthew 21. (Jesus to two disciples) 

“Go to the village ahead of you, and you will immediately find a donkey tethered with its colt. Untie them, and if anyone says anything, tell them, The Lord needs them.”

 After one of the shortest bible passages read that week, Wimber closed his bible with a snap, and delivered the shortest homily on record. Five words that changed the lives of hundreds of people that day:

“Jesus wants his church back.” 

There was a shocked silence. Then the Holy Spirit descended and all heaven broke out.

Grown men and women, lay people and ministers from every denomination fell to their knees sobbing. People all round me dropped to the floor, some were shaking, others screaming. There was laughter too, and behaviour that looked awfully demonic to me. Wimber’s  team moved quietly through the mayhem, praying with, and ministering to, the crowd.

I was praying too. “Please God, don’t let anything like this happen to me!”

I was, frankly, terrified. This was not like any Christian gathering I’d been at before. 

Intrigued too. The following day much the same happened. Once again, I prayed just as fervently, “Please God, don’t let this happen to me!” I was safe. 

The last day of the Conference , I prayed a third time,” God, why isn’t anything happening to me?” 

He came! Not with raucous laughter or incontrollable sobbing, but a deep, deep,  peace that filled me from head to toe. Wave after wave of it. 

“I give you what you need, not what you fear.”  

There were miracles of deliverance and healing that day, and the days that followed. Right in front of me, a man fell to the floor and shook for a long time. I felt rather uncomfortable because some very sceptical people from my church had come that day, and I was worried they’d be,“ put off.” (They were …) Eventually the young man stood up raised his hands and shouted, “I’M FREE!” I felt the gentle chiding of the Lord, “What would you have chosen for this man, many years in therapy, or an hour with me?” 

I didn’t know it then, in fact I only realised it today, when recounting this story to Linda forty YEARS after it happened. I was present at a revival. I was privileged to see first-hand, the power of God through the descent of the Holy Spirit. 

Then everything returned to normal. The commonplace became the norm. But as I learned today, too, that’s just as it should be. He’s still here, sanctifying the  everyday, present in all we do. It’s all miracle. 

Amen

Post Script:

One of the gifts God has given me is that of encouragement. This poem is for you: 

I am thinking of you, whoever you are

And holding you lightly

Here- just under my heart - in the

Place reserved for God  

Wow!

I expect that comes as a surprise! 

But it shouldn't: daughter, cousin, friend,

Anyone, everyone,

You are all precious.

I guess what I am finding words to say

Are those we would - if we were wise -

Whisper, or shout,

Or  pass along, like salt over dinner: 

"You, whoever you are, are loved.

And held, quietly,

Beneath the heart of God

And here, if lightly,

In my hand."

Be FREE. 

And The Greatest Of These Is Love

 Very little remains with me from my High School days, which let's face it were sixty long years ago. Sitting in the space beneath the Domestic Science Block teaching an innocent the facts of life, aged eleven. Promotion to the B Stream, aged thirteen.  At fifteen,  being given detention for not knowing my Times Tables, Hightlight of my sixteenth  year? Shocking my teachers by doing well in my O Levels. Lower Sixth, my Folk Group Year. Singing "Blowing in The Wind,” behind Sally Fearn, lead, and only, guitar, for "The Ribbettes" at what must have been our only gig. Winning a cup in Gloucester Regatta at eighteen:small things, of no interest to anyone now, but here recorded for an indifferent posterity.  Enjoy!

Headmistress Hilda Mortimore is no hero of mine. Her focus was on the girls of the professional classes. Working-class girls like me, were consigned to Domestic Science and Secretarial Courses. Our destiny was to work in an Office and marry the boss. I bucked the trend. so much so, that on gaining the necessaries to apply for Teacher Training College, she sent for my parents and told them not to send me, because they would need my wage. Futhermore, I have the distinction of being the only student NOT to gain admission to Rolle College Exeter on her recommendation, because she didn't give me one. 

Am I bitter? Never. Not then, not now. Her unshakeable disbelief in me sent me to Yorkshire, where I made a lifelong friend in Viv Goldman,  - and met my husband. With a loving and supportive family and unshakeable faith in myself, I met my career goal, that of becoming the Headteacher of a Village School (Take a bow, Miss Read) and began the life journey that brings me to exactly where I want to be: the matriarch of an amazing clan. 

I do, however, owe Hilda a debt of gratitude. It was her habit at the beginning of every term to read the same passage from the New Testament. St Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians, Chapter Thirteen. "I may speak with the tongues of men and have angels, but without Love I become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal..."

St Paul knew that love makes the world go round. Amazing to think that the most profound and lasting lesson I learned at High School was written 2,000 years ago and quoted three times a year by the least impressive educator I ever met: 

“Love endures with patience and serenity, love is kind and thoughtful, and is not jealous or envious; love does not brag and is not proud or arrogant. It is not rude; it is not self-seeking, it is not provoked [nor overly sensitive and easily angered]; it does not take into account a wrong endured. It does not rejoice at injustice, but rejoices with the truth [when right and truth prevail]. "

Love bears all things [regardless of what comes], 

Love believes all things [looking for the best in each one], hopes all things [remaining steadfast during difficult times], endures all things [without weakening].

Love never fails [it never fades nor ends]. 

But as for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for the gift of special knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part [for our knowledge is fragmentary and incomplete].

10 But when that which is complete and perfect comes. that which is incomplete and partial will pass away. 11 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; but when Ibecame a man, I did away with childish things. 

12 For now [in this time of imperfection] we see in a mirror dimly [a blurred reflection, a riddle, an enigma], but then [when the time of perfection comes we will see reality] face to face. Now I know in part [just in fragments], but then I will know fully, just as I have been fully known [by God]. 13 And now there remain: faith [abiding trust in God and His promises], hope [confident expectation of eternal salvation], love [unselfish love for others growing out of God's love for me], these three [the choicest graces]; but the greatest of these is love.*

Happy Valentine’s Day! 

Amen 

(*Amplified® Bible Copyright © 2015 by

The Lockman Foundation, La Habra, CA 90631)