Free to be me

Here’s (yet) another poem on the subject of M.E.:

Free to be me

Once upon a time,
I could think of a rhyme
that was not about M.E.
rather, me.

Caught up in the fog,
left me stuck in a bog.
And I’m trapped,
trapped by the walls of M.E.

Sleepless nights
will bring me no more frights,
because of my identity
(and that’s not in M.E.)

Fighting the fatigue
that did not belong to me.

I have a retreat,
where I can hear the birds tweet,
in the sanctuary
of rest.

I’m not defined by the rain,
even when I’m dancing,
and in pain.

My identity is free;
free from M.E.
free to be me.

Free to be
the woman God called me to be;
me.

In my weakness,
the weakness of M.E.,
I had no choice
but to rely on The One you despise.

You can tear me apart,
you can wound my heart.
But you may hold me no longer;
this fight has only made me stronger.

Because He died,
He died for me.
He died so that I,
could be free.

Free, from the pain,
the rain,
of this world.
From the things that bound me
to M.E.

And I’m
Free to be
the woman God called me to be;
me.

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What gets you out of bed each morning?

If you know me, you’ll know that I’m not so good at the whole morning thing. This is for a few reasons; I’m exhausted. I’m in pain. I didn’t sleep well. I’m depressed. I’m lazy.

This can be especially bad if I don’t have anything specific to get up for. I do try and plan what I’m going to do the night before, but it doesn’t always work out, especially if my plans don’t involve letting anyone else but myself down.

It’s not even like taking a tablet to wake me up would work, because I need to have a reason to get as far as taking the pill.

I want Jesus to be the reason I get out of bed. Not some feelings of guilt. I want peace to know it’s okay to be in bed when I’m ill. I want a motivation that doesn’t leave me in tears. I don’t want to waste my ‘not so well’ days, never mind my ‘well’ days.

In CBT we started to focus on sleep and at some point I’ll be going to a sleep clinic; scary or what!
We decided I should write a list of things that might help me get out of bed, and I wrote a poster which now sits right by my bed, at eye level height so that when I wake up in a morning, once I can convince myself to open my eyes, I see this:

If you have any other suggestions, I’d love to hear them.
I hope it helps!

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Catching up, God hears and answers our prayers

So, I’m in the process of catching up with life, the universe and everything. I’m trying to keep things in some sort of logical order, which to me would mean some sort of vague chronology to them.

I was about to post about Sherif and backdate it to sometime last week, when I first heard. However news has just come in that he has arrived at Heathrow this very evening.

God is good.

For more information, go to http://www.releasesherif.com/ for more details…

Memoirs of an Ordinary Pastor

I recently finished reading D.A. Carson’s biography of his father, subtitled The Life and Reflections of Tom Carson. I’ve found a humbling reminder, of how we are meant to live ‘ordinarily under the gospel of grace.’ So often we aspire to the famous, well known preachers of our time, but Tom’s story was not about being well-known. It was living a godly life in the communities in which he was called to be.

I’d rather have Jesus than silver or gold;
I’d rather have Him than riches untold.
I’d rather have Jesus than houses or lands;
I’d rather be led by his nail-pierced hands -
Than to be the king of a vast domain
And be held in sin’s dread sway.
I’d rather have Jesus than anything
This world affords today.

Carson, p. 106, excerpt from his father’s journal dated September 6th 1973.

We will remember them

When I was in primary school I was always so moved by the poem ‘In Flanders Fields’ by John McCrae;

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

 

 

I also remember so well being told the story in assembly, during the first world war, how over Christmas the Allied forces and the Germans brought a truce and played football together in no-man’s-land. I love that story. I always wished it hadn’t just been that one day. I wish it would still be now. That we could live in a world of peace and harmony.

Today, I had the privilege of serving at the Royal Albert Hall for the annual Festival of Remembrance with the Queens’ Scout Working Party. For the matinee service, myself and James (with whom I was on the Readers’ team for the National Scout Service of Queen’s Scout at St Georges’ Chapel, Windsor for the Centenary of Scouting in 2007) were wheelchair pushers, which involved meeting the less able people at the security entrances, helping them into a chair and taking them to their seats. It was really great getting to chat with some really incredible people. And helping those who’d got lost back to their coaches at the end!

In the evening, I was on duty in the Grand Tier, ‘selling’ programs. I say ‘selling’ because they were free, but a donation was requested. It was interesting, because many of the boxes are ‘owned’ by certain patrons, who host a select number of guests. And there is A LOT of money on that level! It was interesting to watch how a lot of people who came to the evening performance were there ‘to be seen to be there,’ in contrast with the sincerity of some of those who had been at the matinee.

I was stood about 6 ft away from the box David Cameron, his wife and other important people entered. It felt somewhat surreal! Ed Milliband almost pushed me over as he entered the Grand Tier – I wouldn’t have minded, but it wasn’t as if the corridor was heaving with people at that point (it was empty)! As the service began, Karen and I hung around to wait for the Queen to arrive a few minutes in to the event. A lot of the Royals were there, we counted everyone except William and Harry.

I remember watching the Festival on the television most years with my parents while growing up. I know it’s a very moving occasion. And yet, I still struggled with it’s intensity, of being in the auditorium during the service. Clapping as the Chelsea pensioners and widows etc. entered the arena just doesn’t cut it. This annual festival doesn’t pay for the loss of any person. Nothing we can do or say can ever make up for even a single life lost in conflict, however just or unjust. And that’s what I know some internationals struggle with; Remembrance Day isn’t about endorsing war or conflict, it’s about paying respect to those who have fought and given their lives for the service of others. To enable us, British citizens, to sleep safely in our beds at night.

The famous stanza from For The Fallen (1914) by Laurence Binyon left me holding back the tears.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

 

 

We will remember them.

N.T. Wright on Women in Ministry

Weekends in the country

I’m pretty sure I’ve said it before, but I need to make sure I escape London town and make for the hills every few weeks or so. Else I’ll go insane. I’ve had a lovely couple of ‘weekends’ of late with friends and family, and I feel really blessed.

The weekend prior to my birthday celebrations, I went to stay with my cousin, Mark, and his family in Leamington Spa for the weekend, which for me was a new thing; I’m the youngest of all our cousins, and they’re between 20 and 16 years older than me. So, when we (my brother and I) were growing up, for one reason and another, we didn’t really see our cousins that much.

Mark is ordained working as a vocations adviser for CPAS, where he runs LifeCall events. After conversations, he finally twisted me into coming along. As it happened, Dave went too.
I found LifeCall a really helpful day, despite being exhausted by the end! And I will explain more about this, specifically, in a separate post.
But it was just so nice, to get away from London for the weekend. To hang out with my cousin and get to build ‘adult’ relationships with him and Cathy, and mess about with their kids. We ate Chinese, we watched TV, we played games, we talked, we went to church… Just plain chilled out fun times!

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During the school half term, I put on my new boots and went to Burgess Hill to visit Hazel and Tony for a couple of days. I’ve not had chance to see them both properly, other than their wedding day, for ages! It’s the first time I’ve visited their house (which Hazel lived in prior to their marriage and Tony moving in), so it was really great to see them settled in. We went to the seaside, we celebrated birthdays, we went bowling, we ate lots of food, we played Monopoly; Tony won!

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This weekend, I traveled up to Liverpool in style; a First Class ticket was only £2 more expensive than the Standard one, so I figured it was worth it for the cup of Tea and internet! Cousin Heather and her husband, Alan, met me at the station, and again, it was great to spend time with them. Again, we had Chinese; it must be a Norris family tradition!
On Sunday, I went to Liverpool Cathedral, where I met Jules, ex LST lecturer, who was to be installed as Canon that afternoon. He showed me around the Cathedral, bought me lunch, I went up the tower as I waited for the Minibus with the LST contingent of supporters to arrive for the service. It was so Jules. It was wonderful to see him so happy in a job which is so much who he is! Jules took us out for dinner at a local Indian before we set off in the Minibus back to London!

I’ve really appreciated the opportunities to get out of the ‘big smoke’ for a couple of days each week for the past few weeks; probably should try to make it less often, but I know that getting out of town really helps me put life in perspective

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