A Different Vigil

As you may or may not know, on Maundy Thursday, I have in recent years had a tradition of visiting the church in my home town and sitting there in prayer for about an hour or so.

I do this in gratitude for what I believe Jesus did for me, because I like to try and give a little bit back. Knowing that he had nobody with him 2,000 years ago as he knelt and prayed with the weight of destiny and the knowledge of what he must suffer on his shoulders; I can't help but feel a sadness that his best friends couldn't keep their eyes open just for a while. So with this very much in mind and knowing that God is eternal, I go... to pray for Jesus in Gethsemane in the time leading up to his arrest, even though I know what happened. It's not that I think I'm anything fantastic, I do it completely as a response to what he first did for me.

However, having been to Israel and sat upon the Mount of Olives... I am now acutely aware that churches are perhaps not the best place to do this. Jesus did not go to the temple. Jesus went to the hill that looked across to his city, and watched over it as he prayed.I wanted to connect to that notion a little better. So last night, I changed old habits. I very nearly didn't, if the weather had been inclement... I would have abandoned the notion.

At about midnight, I took a torch and backpack and headed out to Primrose Hill. As you may know from previous Easter entries, this is the hill that every year blooms with a 30ft daffodil cross.... and this year is no exception (although the daffodils have bloomed even earlier and are know dying... and their number was somewhat diminished due to people sledging in winter).

I gingerly hopped across the A46 dual carriageway as Royal Mail lorries thundered past me deep into the night. Making my way along a bridle path, I eventually found the field that led to the hill. As I was now pretty much off the beaten track, I was quite anxious. Despite the presence of the moon, it was quite hard to make out entirely where I was going. I didn't know what critters were out there and my deepest concern was being discovered by some shotgun wielding angry farmer demanding to know my business at midnight... there was the loud sound of a gate rattling, it sounded as if someone had discovered me... but nothing came of it.

So it was that I found myself sitting above the crossbeam of the daffodil cross, illuminated only by the moon's pale light... and looking down upon the streetlights of the sleeping town of Alcester.

It was a moving experience. I really didn't feel alone. I had a great sense of God's presence as I prayed over the town... and for the historical event I was commemorating. I think it was more poignant and relevant for me to be able to do it this way. I eventually left the hill at 1am and made my way back into town. I did stop off and spend some time in the church, but being out there on the hill, really gave me a deeper appreciation and sense of "being there".

Having said that, being on a hill in the middle of nowhere is a little intimidating... especially when you aren't sure you should be there.

I am of a mind to do this again next year... but I'm seriously thinking of gathering a few brave souls to join me.... simply because I feel more could be done with a few more people.

Sorry I've been absent, had a few things on my mind lately... and for those of you who have access to the Inner Sanctum part of my blog, I may expand more a little on said things.

I have had a blog brewing for some time and I hope to post it very soon, however until that time... have an incredibly blessed Easter. Whatever you do with your time, I pray the peace of Christ that was won for us at great cost on that first Good Friday will fill your hearts and minds.

Different

Well I made it back.

But before I post anything about my experiences in the Promised Land, I thought I'd like to share with you the effect my miniature odyssey has had on me.

I feel like my procrastination levels have dropped significantly. Yes I think about things, but in several key circumstances recently I have found myself acting on my thoughts within a relatively short space of time. I don't seem to be afraid of my choices any more. I accept that some of those choices are not always going to pay off how I might like... but I'm not as scared of making those decisions as once I might have been.

What is more I seem more resilient to things that normally would have bothered me no end. Someone said something to me recently which normally would have speared me clean through and left me moping for ages... but I found that while I was initially hurt by the words, in hours they bounced off. I was bruised but not broken by it. I was kind of thinking... "Huh? This isn't supposed to happen!"

I think too much good has happened for me to risk casting it all aside over any one thing.

I set out for Israel in the hope of achieving three personal objectives. All three of those were met by the grace of God.

I flew, there and back again.

I swam in En Gedi and the Dead Sea (if you are a casual reader you are thinking "so what". However, if you know me, you know the reasons why I had hang ups on that front).

I met several Palestinian Christians.

How those things played out are tales in themselves... but the first two were utterly crucial steps in claiming back ground in my heart of hearts... and I simply could not have done it without the grace of God. However, in doing those very things I find myself changed and changed for the better.

The rules of the game have been favourably altered.

Remember an old passage I quoted in a time of sadness?

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life."

Proverbs 13:12

Well...in the past couple of days I've found myself coming back to a passage that was mentioned quite early on in our studies in Israel:

"But I am like an olive tree flourishing in the house of God; I trust in God's unfailing love for ever and ever. I will praise you forever for what you have done; in your name I will hope, for your name is good. I will praise you in the presence of your saints."

Psalm 52:8-9

Perhaps some very important longings (longings I may not have been entirely aware of), have been fulfilled. And with that fulfilment there is perhaps the promise of a new period of personal growth.

I remember very clearly the day I dived into the waters of En Gedi. I remember it especially because earlier that day I had nearly collapsed with heat stroke on the barren slopes of Masada. I somehow made it to the bottom and kept myself going... but it was not until En Gedi that I was restored to a better condition.

That event was a microcosm for so much in my life. Trying to climb down from a desolate fortress in the beating rays of the midday sun, and then discovering that in order to be restored, I needed to commit myself to do doing something I feared and let God have me in a situation I did not wish to consciously go. Plunging into those icy waters was not just restoring to my body but restoring to my soul... something I feel the whole holiday experience has been about. I am determined to see that the lessons and experiences I have taken from my trip, are not lost from memory or time.

But I have a question to ask of you.

Are you on Masada or in the springs of En Gedi? Are you stranded on a mountain and failing fast, or have you learned that there is an answer to your weariness and burdens... albeit a difficult answer that requires you to face something you fear or are uncomfortable with? Sometimes you have to face your Masada's before you can finally be in a place to find the refreshing spring.

But please take it from someone who knows. As awkward, troubling and challenging as that journey may seem to you... you should take it, because restoration is at hand for the one who is willing to surrender to God instead of striving through their sorrows.

May God bless you, grant you courage and above all... restore your soul.

Fulfillment?

This time tomorrow I shall not be in the UK.

That's quite a daunting prospect for me... afraid as I am of the whole idea of flying.

However, as I prepare to head out into the skies above Europe, one thought occupies my mind. It is the memory of a vision I had many years ago whilst praying. I've shared it here before, but I have special reason for raising it again now.

In my vision, I saw an eagle hovering over a cliff top and stripping the nest of it's young.

I felt very strongly that God was saying to me, that this was his desire for me - that he was going to take away the things that forced me to stay on the ledge, he was calling me to fly with him. This image remained with me and was bolstered by a two friends independently telling me the same story (but crucially ending it differently).

The story concerned a man who had stolen an eagle's egg and had taken it home to his farm to hatch it among his chickens.

As the eagle grows, it pecks the dirt along with the chickens it has lived among. Then one day, as it reaches adulthood; a great eagle flies over the farm. Looking up, the eagle asks his chicken "siblings" what it is. They tell him that it is an eagle and that it belongs to the sky... but they are chickens and they belong to the ground.

Sadly in one version, the eagle takes heed of the chickens... and lives out it's days believing it was nothing more.

Crucially though, I also heard a version where the eagle listens to an unheard voice... a deeper call. It beats it's wings, takes to the sky and lets the thermals take it up to be with it's own kind.

My fears and anxieties would have me peck in the dirt till the end of my days. The people who have pegged me in a certain light, would have me remain in the mould they have cast for me. Since I booked my holiday last year, a lot of things have been happening to try and discourage me... the political unrest flaring up in Gaza... the increase in the number of planes dropping out of the sky.

This is me saying no to it all. This is me saying, I've got to trust that voice within - the one who calls me from the cliff side... trust him no matter what happens and no matter where he takes me. This is me breaking through the latex barrier that protects me and yet prevents me from exposing myself to situations where I can potentially thrive.

And as I take to the skies literally, in a very real sense my actions will be heralding a far more important flight somewhere deep within my soul.

A passage for you as I leave. Please ignore the fact that it is sometimes regarded as a
cliché, it is not. It certainly is not for me in my current context:

"Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.

He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.

Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;

but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint."

Isaiah 40:28-31

Jesus also said that he who wants to save his life will lose it, but he who is prepared to lose it for him, will live. We often tend to regard that saying as to the physical concept of life and death. I'm not sure that's the only way it should be seen though. Jesus also told the parable of the talents. That's a tale where a man loses everything because he's not prepared to risk what he's been given. Now I'm not advocating gambling here. I'm talking about the willingness to invest in things God tells you to invest in, even though you don't see a potential harvest. That's the kind of living sacrifice I talk about. If we aren't prepared to take those risks, then I truly believe that parts of us begin to die.

As Captain Kirk once said: "risk is part of the game if you want to sit in that chair."

In fact I'll play you out with the theme song from the much maligned Star Trek series, Enterprise... because it encapsulates a lot of what I am speaking about.

May God bless you until my return.

I Minus 7 Days

This is it... the final countdown.

It's been a long road but in seven days, I finally reach that crossroads where I choose adventure or fear. Do I stay here and live according to routine, or do I break the cycle and do something different and a little risky. If everything works out... this time next week I'll be in another country having ridden upon the clouds for the very first time.

Of course, the time for questioning myself is practically speaking... far too late. I've invested too much time, money, effort and hope to abandon my personal quest now. So it's time to spread the wings and let the breeze take me up into the stratosphere, a time to raise the main mast and tack into the wind.

If you had asked me 9 months ago how I would have expected to feel about this trip, I would tell you that it would be something like 85% anxiousness and 15% eager anticipation, so I'm quite surprised to find myself in a position that is somewhat the reverse of that.

It is interesting that in the time I've waited since booking my little holiday, my destination has become more than a little politically unstable... and the average number of aeroplanes dropping out of the sky has also increased. It's almost as if the world doesn't want me to break the chains it has forged for me... but I shall not be bound by a lesser master.

Curiously I've also been dwelling on a dream I had some time ago concerning my destination and wondering if it was as random as I might have thought.

It's also interesting that I caught the end of Vanilla Sky on TV the other night. It's kind of the position I find myself in:

... and I think I'm going to leave you with that thought - that every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around,and that more importantly... if the world around you is becoming a dystopia shaped by your fears and anxieties. You need to surrender to what is greater (Him) in order to wake up to a real life.

God bless

Nick

Real Reality TV

Take a good look at yourself in the mirror.

No, really... take a long hard look.

Do you like what you see? Do you think you measure up sufficiently to the standards of those around you? Do you think they would approve of you being seen in public?

You probably don't have the faintest idea what I'm talking about.

Following on from my recent post entitled Lepers, Shades and Pariahs; it wasn't long before a very real and disturbing example of the kind of prejudice and discrimination I was talking about, surfaced on the news...

CBeebies TV presenter Cerrie Burnell, was the unfortunate target of some pathetically bigoted parents here in the UK. What was her crime?

Cerrie was born without the lower half of her right arm.

This doesn't in any way affect how she does her job, but some "worried" parents voiced concern that her appearance might disturb their children, stop them getting a proper night's sleep and terrify them.

Shall I tell you what terrifies me?

The fact that there are adults out there who share that opinion. Sometimes there is nothing as bigoted as parents who are full of their own self righteousness.

It's people like that who have in the past helped to neutralise my own sense of self worth. You see, I myself have a slight disfigurement - a scar on the centre of my chest... but I'm extremely lucky "tis but a scratch!" I can cover it up... the convenience of that fact is quickly substituted for cowardice and without exception I hide my scar away.

The fact that there are people out there such as Cerrie, who not only cannot hide their differences, but furthermore say "why the heck should I hide?" is a source of great inspiration. I do not believe she chooses to do this to provoke a reaction or make a point, she just does what feels natural and comfortable to her... and that is the real point.

Children will not be terrified - true... some kids who have been raised poorly (and sadly there are a number of them), will mock, but the vast majority of children will probably insatiably curious at first (as children so wonderfully are), and then they will just shrug and get on with it. Children don't start out with discriminative attitudes... these are learnt as they grow up.

I never used to be bothered by my scar as a child, but it all changed when I grew up and I never really understood why... it was a puzzle to me. However, it's through this recent turn of events (which I am reliably informed by a transatlantic friend has now hit the US national news), that I think I have finally grasped what a significant part of that puzzle might be...

As a child, I thought like a child. I didn't care about adults opinions of what I looked like, I just wanted to have fun and... be a kid. However, when I grew up... suddenly the opinions of adults started to matter a lot. I've talked recently about the danger of being defined by others views about yourself... and I know I promised to return to that subject (I haven't forgotten). It's yet another example of caring too much what people think. I don't think the timing of this is entirely coincidental for me, as I'm on a part of my journey where I will perhaps have a chance... no, maybe even a necessary opportunity to challenge that.

There's a certain level of unfair expectation on television here in the UK. People are known to get their noses out of joint even when presenters retain their regional accents (I was very surprised when my current favourite weather presenter was criticised for this... even though I think her accent is slight). Society is enthralled by so called "reality TV", but if we are genuinely serious about reality on our televisions; then surely true reality is not merely showcasing ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances, but breaking down barriers and allowing people who don't fit the traditional stereotypical roles, to be extraordinary people in ordinary circumstances.

Humans come in all shapes, sizes and designs... why shouldn't they all find equal representation on the glowing magical box in the corner of our living room.