My mum's parents met at war. I'm sure many people of my generation could say the same. But my grandparents didn't meet at a dance, or as they served valiantly alongside each other; no, they were supposed to be enemies. My Grandma was German and my Granddad was British.
I don't actually know any details about how my grandparents met or fell in love. I know that after the war they lived in Germany for some time and my two eldest aunties spoke German before they spoke English. I know that when they did come back to England, it still wasn't cool to be German in the working class north east. Unfortunately their relationship did not last the many challenges that were thrown at it, and my mum knew what it was like to grow up in a broken family before such a thing was common.
But something must have been there; some spark of love or passion that would not be ignored in spite of its impropriety or inappropriacy. I can see those traits coming through in my mum- she feels things deeply and has a conviction in what she does, even if it is not popular with those around her. She has a rebellious compassion that I love.
I know that I often find myself caught in the middle of conflict where I'm inconveniently affiliated to both sides. Like when a couple, whose relationship was as solid as the orbit of the earth around the sun, split up. Or when some best friends left my church under a cloud. Or when I just happen to like two people who don't like each other!
Growing up I loved church; the Sunday morning format of singing and worshiping then sitting and listening worked perfectly for me. But I found myself an oddball amongst the oddballs, drawn to those on who struggled to relate whilst relating perfectly well myself. Always the awkward one, standing in the gap.
Not to say that I have always loved easily; I have carried hurt on others' behalf but felt no rest until I gave it up. I could not deny the hurt that I saw, but neither could I deny the love of Jesus that I knew. I have chosen not to take sides, but to embrace the awkwardness that comes with being on both sides.
I am a product of my history: Reconciliation is my heritage.
I've recently discovered the 'sheloves' magazine. It is full of beautiful stories, and each month invites its readers to join in on a particular theme. This months theme is 'Heritage' and it has really got my imagination going! I'm going to try and post something each week on the theme, just to keep my creative writing juices flowing. There's so much to be drawn from looking into the past.
I don't actually know any details about how my grandparents met or fell in love. I know that after the war they lived in Germany for some time and my two eldest aunties spoke German before they spoke English. I know that when they did come back to England, it still wasn't cool to be German in the working class north east. Unfortunately their relationship did not last the many challenges that were thrown at it, and my mum knew what it was like to grow up in a broken family before such a thing was common.
But something must have been there; some spark of love or passion that would not be ignored in spite of its impropriety or inappropriacy. I can see those traits coming through in my mum- she feels things deeply and has a conviction in what she does, even if it is not popular with those around her. She has a rebellious compassion that I love.
I know that I often find myself caught in the middle of conflict where I'm inconveniently affiliated to both sides. Like when a couple, whose relationship was as solid as the orbit of the earth around the sun, split up. Or when some best friends left my church under a cloud. Or when I just happen to like two people who don't like each other!
Growing up I loved church; the Sunday morning format of singing and worshiping then sitting and listening worked perfectly for me. But I found myself an oddball amongst the oddballs, drawn to those on who struggled to relate whilst relating perfectly well myself. Always the awkward one, standing in the gap.
Not to say that I have always loved easily; I have carried hurt on others' behalf but felt no rest until I gave it up. I could not deny the hurt that I saw, but neither could I deny the love of Jesus that I knew. I have chosen not to take sides, but to embrace the awkwardness that comes with being on both sides.
I am a product of my history: Reconciliation is my heritage.
I've recently discovered the 'sheloves' magazine. It is full of beautiful stories, and each month invites its readers to join in on a particular theme. This months theme is 'Heritage' and it has really got my imagination going! I'm going to try and post something each week on the theme, just to keep my creative writing juices flowing. There's so much to be drawn from looking into the past.
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