O God, from whom all holy desires, all good counsels, and all just works do proceed...

....Give unto thy servants that peace which the world cannot give; that our hearts may be set to obey thy commandments, and also that by thee, we, being defended from the fear of our enemies, may pass our time in rest and quietness; through the merits of Jesus Christ our Saviour. Amen.

Tonight I went to Evensong, a service which I am very familiar with, but have been away from for a very long time. Yet in the manner one meets an old friend one hasn't seen for a long time, I settled quickly back into the familiar routine, with its familiar words, it's familiar comforts.

The Second Collect has always resounded with me. It has brought me comfort in times of trial and 'earthed' my feelings of loss and aloneness.

Give unto thy servants that peace which the world cannot give

God's peace is reachable. It is as accessible to us in the world in 2011 as it was in 1662 through these words above.

At this service a certain priest, not so far away from me, preached on the subject of finding who God wants us to be, and not being defined by our possessions. This line then jumped out, over and over again. God gives us peace, a peace that this world can not and will not give.

I don't know about you...but when I am worried about something this panicky feeling is not just emotional it is physical. I shake, I sweat, I cannot settle. God's peace is the only way to calm this. To say "Yes God, help me, I need you!"

I love evensong, whether sung by some world-class choir in a cathedral, said alone, sung in church with 2 or 3 gathered together, I would still love the essence of evensong. God's people gathered in penitence and praise.

On this day in 1994

On the 12th March 1994 the first women were ordained priests in the Church of England.

I was a mere 13 years old, a young female Christian for whom this news was joyous! I was confirmed at the tender age of 10 and took a full part in the life of the church. I was by this point, a member of the church choir, I had read lessons, and I had just started to lead intercessions under Dad's watchful gaze.

There had been a Deaconess in one of Dad's previous parishes, but I was too young to realise that these women were anything other than a usual part of parishes all over the country, or indeed to recognise the lack of ordained ministry for women.

By 1995, I was attending my first Eucharist celebrated by a woman. This woman was the Anglican chaplain at the Royal Berks Hospital, her husband was the Methodist chaplain. Dad had been invited to her first Eucharist and Mum and I also attended.

It was a wonderful occasion in that little college chapel. I felt the hairs on my back stand on end as she raised the Host during the consecration. I felt tears in my eyes as she gave us God's blessing. Words cannot fully explain how this felt for me, as a teenage girl, to be part of a Eucharist celebrated by a woman for the very first time, I cannot ever imagine how that would feel for the lady who presided.

In the car on the way home Dad turned to me and said "Now you could be a priest."

I have discovered today to my great joy that one of the ladies who was ordained on that glorious day in 1994 baptised our son in 2008. She is just one of the many wonderful priests, I have had the privilege to meet.  Male/Female the great ones are really great! God has given all these wonderful people a calling, male or female and I for one am so glad that they are all able to live out that calling within the Church of England.

Ash Wednesday thoughts

"Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return, turn away from sin and be faithful to Christ"

Yesterday was a strange day for our family. We celebrated my husband's birth 37 years ago, we mourned the death and celebrated the life of a person we knew and cared deeply for, and we both had ashes imposed to mark the beginning of the season of Lent (I should say that the Curate both imposed ashes himself and had them imposed twice, celebrated Communion once and deaconed once, and fitted in a piece of birthday cake and some presents too).

This sentence from the Ash Wednesday liturgy rang true for us particular after the events of our day. I was  particularly moved as it was the first Ash Wednesday when I have been able to be in church for 4 years, thanks to the kindness of a lady in our congregation offering to babysit.

In church last night were our Guides, a noisy bunch of young girls who behaved very well and appeared to be open to the learning experience a service for Ash Wednesday provided. However I am not sure but I suspect that, like me at their age, the line which reminds us of our human mortality was lost on them. It is difficult (and frightening for some) to consider the possibility of death, the death of our loved ones, not to mention our own death, when we are just at the beginning of our human life, and feel immortal. Yet Christianity has us facing that truth in the picture of Christ on the cross very early on in our faith journey, but not without the hope of the resurrection.

So to continue my thoughts about the reason for Christ's death, I believe in a resurrected God. In order to share in Christ's victory on Easter day we have to follow Him to the cross. Allow Him to wash our feet, break bread with Him, accept the times when we have denied Him access to our lives and our hearts, weep with Mary at the foot of the cross, and experience her fear at the empty tomb. Only then can we truely share in the joy of Easter Day, in that most glorious victory.

So that is where the "turn away from sin and be faithful to Christ bit" comes in. This Lent I shall offer anew all I am to God who loves me and forgives me and who loves and forgives you.

God our Father,

the strength of all who put their trust in you,

mercifully accept our prayers;

and because, in our weakness,

we can do nothing good without you,

grant us the help of your grace,

that in keeping your commandments

we may please you, both in will and deed;

through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

Do not worry.

"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Matthew 6: 34

I don't know about you but for a natural born worrier like me, this is a very comforting verse.

When I was in senior school I had a very scary maths teacher. The scariest of scary kids were a little nervous of her, so it is unsurprising that an overgrown mouse like me would be nervous. Although my mathematics ability was negligible (and still is), I was placed in the top maths group in Year 11 which Mrs Scary, from Scary-land taught.

Each night before a maths lesson, after I had spent the evening struggling with the homework, I would toss and turn in my bed worrying about facing Mrs Scary the following day. I finally realised one night that tomorrow would come whatever I did and thought up a mantra. "In my bed, under my duvet, she can't get me here." Which I would repeat until I feel asleep.

The lesson, would nearly always go better than I thought. Normally because I could 'borrow' the homework in morning break from some sympathetic (and mathematically gifted) friends. However the proof of all this 'borrowing' came in GCSE results. I got a D. Then to add insult to injury, Mrs Scary was my teacher up until I retook the exam the following summer and achieved my longed for C grade.

There is very little point worrying about things that are beyond our control. It doesn't mean it is easy to stop worrying about them, that is the frailty of our human nature but as long as we retain some perspective. Mrs Scary, bashed my confidence, made me too afraid to seek help when I was struggling but ultimately she helped me achieve my Maths C grade, not least because I was damn sure I would not spend any more time in her classes!

When kids have cameras...

A dear friend of mine came here with her 4 lovely children on Tuesday. They were all playing with my son's Kidizoom camera. I have just sorted through the photos and come across some corkers but because I love the woman in question I shall share some favourites here rather than on facebook:

A rare and deeply attractive picture of me to start!

My friend tried to hide...

 ...and then this happened when they caught her!

 And finally her youngest son (who will be officially my God-son tomorrow if I get away with this) didn't seem impressed:

Mementos, Memories, and Memorials,

In between playing with lego, playdough and dinosaurs, I have been sorting through drawers and cupboards. As you are already no doubt aware, tidiness is not my strong point. So therefore in this house there are lots of drawers and cupboards filled with all manner of unclassified paperwork, bit of broken toy for fixing, odd crayons, and buttons etc.

The tidying all goes well until I come across something which for happy or sad reasons makes me stop in my tracks, sit down, and peruse it. By the time I am back on track, I have usually forgotten where I have got to, and the whole cycle starts again.

This has happened twice so far this week. The first occasion was Sunday night, when i was searching through my bedside cabinet for a vital piece of paperwork (not the most logical place to keep it and it has now been moved!). I found all my Dad's licences from the churches to which he served during his ministry. I knew I had them somewhere, certain things came into my possession after Dad died because we as a family couldn't bear to throw them away. I sat down and read through them one after the other, reminiscing about the moves, the licensing service, who had been staying with us at the time, how young I was etc etc. There were a couple of service booklets in the pile including the service to celebrate Dad's 25th Anniversary of Ordination, in later service books as in this one, one hymn was always a part of each service. The great Wesley number "And can it be". It was always deeply moving for us all as a family, the verse which concludes "My chains fell off my heart was free, I rose went forth and followed thee" spoke clearly to Dad. They were an opportunity to leave behind the old, and move into new and exciting ministerial experiences, following God's call and were therefore a rousing end to a final service in a parish or a declaration of Dad's commitment to following Christ into his new parish at the licensing service.

When Dad died there was no question of the hymns for his Requiem. Thine be the Glory, Sweet Sacrament Divine, and And Can it Be. This time the verse to note was the last one:

No condemnation now I dread;
Jesus, and all in him, is mine;
alive in him, my living Head,
and clothed in righteousness divine,
bold I approach th' eternal throne,
and claim the crown, through Christ my own.
Bold I approach th' eternal throne,
and claim the crown, through Christ my own.

The wonderful Eulogy given by a dear friend of my parents, included a piece from the book Dad had been writing at the time of his death.

When my father died in 1973, I selected the memorial cards and chose the verse beginning 'I am the Resurrection and the life...' I did not pick this verse in a sentimental comforting way: I knew my father was with the Lord. I selected it as a statement of belief for both of us. Each of us shares in Jesus' resurrection in two ways - firstly in a sacramental way through Baptism and the Eucharist and secondly through the free action of ours which welcomes God's graciousness. We are spurred on and energised by God's Spirit towards the final fulfilment. However broken and hurt we may be God's healing is available for us, first in this world and ultimately in the next. 

On this occasion the find was a happy one, and I am grateful for my lack of order because it gives me the chance to stumble upon these memories in a natural and organic kind of way. This last week a dear friend died suddenly and left his wife of 50 years bereft, shocked and overwhelmed with grief. So this exercise, as well as drawing my mind back to my dear Dad has also given me the opportunity to stop and pray, for the soul of this departed friend and for God's comfort for his wife and family in their grief. Also to pray for all who grieve for those they love but see no longer in this life.

Faithful God,
Lord of all creation,
You desire that nothing redeemed by your Son
Will ever be lost,
Comfort those who grieve,
Grant eternal rest to the faithful departed,
May they rest in peace.
Amen

Friends Forever?

We had some playground politics on Friday. Little Bear was the only child in his class not to receive an invitation to a birthday party.

There are lots of reasons why this was a fairly reasonable thing to do. This is a child Little Bear has hurt in the past, Little Bear has a reputation for being "difficult", and last and by no means least the child concerned obviously does not like Little Bear. However if the parent only knew how much not being invited would upset Little Bear then maybe she would have had a word with me so that I could work out a way to tell him he couldn't go rather than just being ostracised as she made her way down the line in the playground giving out invites. (Note: Little Bear wouldn't cope with a kid's party, I would hate it as I have only one playground buddy, and we would make our excuses anyway - but being asked would mean a lot.)

Later that day Little Bear lost it with the same boy. (Teachers were not aware of the party issue) He very nearly bit him but resisted at the last minute, apologised, said he knew he shouldn't do it and burst into tears. This is major progress for Little Bear who has a fairly basic grasp of his own emotions and very limited impulse control (amongst other problems) and his teacher's recognised this with a special achievement sticker.

At home LB started discussing birthday parties all of a sudden (he would like a dinosaur party and we would be guests), so I casually brought up the subject of birthdays in his class. He told me about this little boy's birthday but said "He said I'm not his friend". Ah I thought to myself, that's why you tried to bite him.

Can I just point out at this point that there is NO excuse for biting or indeed hurting another in any way, and LB is fully aware of this, however for him it is a sign of extreme emotional stress. "I don't know how to handle this, I can't cope!" and then an inappropriate response follows. He doesn't intend to hurt but it doesn't change the fact that it does still bloody well hurt (I am not sure that I would be able to manage with a friend who bit me"!

So it got me thinking, how does one explain friendship to a 4yr old who has emotional delay and suspected ASD? How does one explain friendship to a 4yr old at all? How does one explain friendship to an adult?

I am a fairly straightforward person. I therefore only have two types of friend. I have lots of people with whom I am friendly, I care for them, and they are remembered in my prayers and there are lots of these people. Then there is one other group to whom I shall dedicate this post,  the ones who fit the following criteria:

• We may have known each other for many years, it may just be months but we are confidants for each other.
• We may speak daily, weekly, monthly, or annually but when we do meet our relationship is just the same as it was the last time we were together.
• We know each other so well that we can tell how the other is feeling without being explicitly told, and then we can allow momentary irritation to wash over us, safe in the knowledge that there was no hurt meant.
• We appreciate every inch of each others personalities and embrace them - even the annoying bits.
• No matter where we are, near or far, we are in each other's thoughts and prayers.

That's explained it for me but it's taken 30 years on this earth to work it out - my 4 year old has got a while to go yet.