Totally Useless!!

I have enjoyed getting my craft on over the past month, both with the #30for30crafting challenge (I'm just about still keeping up to it now I'm back at work) and generally enjoying what others get up to and where they squeeze it into their lives. What's lovely is that there are a lot of different communities: 'stitch alongs' where everyone follows the same pattern at a similar pace, and 'swaps' where people from across the world make things for each other (usually along a theme) and send them. It sounds like such fun!

I've not been brave enough to join in something where I could possibly let another person down: I'm not quite confident in my own abilities yet. But I have come across the "Totally Useless Stitch-Along" which I feel I'm more than qualified for!

It's dead simple: collect up all the scraggly ends of thread as you've been stitching, and store them in a glass jar. The colours are pretty and there's less mess in the house. The jars are called ORTs for Old Ratty Threads. Then take a picture and share!

I think you're probably meant to add a bit more detail as well, about what you've been making. Most of my threads came from my lightning-speed birthday card production, and some crochet-ing (which is nearly finished and I'll broadcast it then). I'm writing as I wait FOREVER for my MND/ALS Ice Bucket Challenge video to upload, so I'm reluctant to use up much more bandwidth just now!

All the other TUSALs this month are here...

How Beautiful

As kids, my brother and I used to love watching a VHS of "Handel's Messiah" being performed. Looking back, that's actually quite odd, but we liked it all the same. My Dad listened to classical music a lot so I guess it came from there. We used to love the affectionately nick-named 'teddy bear man' who played the jubilacious trumpet at the the end.

It makes sense then, that as I have been thinking about the content of this post, a passage from the Messiah has been floating around in my head:

How beautiful upon the mountains
     are the feet of him who brings good news
who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness,
     who publishes salvation,
     who says to Zion, "Your God reigns."
          Isaiah 52:7

For me, bringing good news and glad tidings have been increasingly wrapped up with another verse over the past few years:

He has told you, O man, what is good;
     and what does The Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
     and to walk humbly with your God?
          Micah 6:8

My grown-up theology has come from The Message trust and Eden projects in Manchester, from 24-7 Prayer and Shane Claiborne. People who have given up everything to live in community with the broken. That verse from Micah, that is the trendy mandate in those circles.

Bringing good news has meant doing justice and loving kindness. In turn, doing justice and loving kindness has meant going out onto the streets and meeting those whom Jesus came to save; visiting them in their homes; building relationships with families; giving children and young people an opportunity to encounter God and develop a relationship with him for themselves. You should go and explore the work that Kidz Klub and Space do: they have had a massive impact in my city and continue to bring the love of Jesus to many difficult situations.

This year has been tough. That version of bringing good news doesn't pay the bills so add in a full time job, a new marriage and a small social life, and you get one exhausted Becca. After much soul-searching I have taken the decision to step back from Kidz Klub for a while. It's for the sake of my own health, and to enable me to do the things that remain, well. In the crafting world I'm happy to be 'Jack of all trades, master of none' but where I have responsibility for people's lives I don't think that's acceptable.

This summer has been long and beautiful. I've rediscovered my creative side, bought a basket for my bike, had coffee with friends, done babysitting. It's been lovely. I've joined an orchestra. And I've felt terribly middle-class. Baskets and crochet and summer play-days: they aren't the kind of thing I encounter on the estates. The questions have kept me up at night: What if that means my feet aren't beautiful any more? If I'm not living immersed in a council estate, can I really be following God?

Of course I can. I can do justice with my whole life. I can love kindness in everything I do. And I must walk humbly with my God, constantly handing my life over to him and following His agenda; not mine or anyone else's.

Sarah over at SheLoves wrote this month about how she and her sisters are learning to treat 'Lazy' as a four-letter word. That article spoke straight into my soul, as I learn to rest in God and seek him above all else. One more scripture:

For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice,
     the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.
          Hosea 6:6

This verse is not an answer. It doesn't tell us to rest; nor does it tell us to do. It tells us to know God, and follow his lead. It is not easy, and there are no one-size-fits-all answers. Here I was facing up to it a couple of weeks ago:

So today I bring you good news: Jesus loves you, and he went to the ends of the earth to save your Spirit and restore friendship between you and God. He has a good and perfect plan for your life, and that does NOT include burning out.

How beautiful...

(PS I still totally love The Message and 24-7 and Shane Claiborne. I have nothing against them, and take full responsibility for my own interpretation of their writing and teachings)

I'm linking up this post with the SheLoves community who are sharing posts on the theme of 'Beautiful' this month. Click here for other takes on the subject

A Week of Creativity

Well, who knew quite what I was letting myself into with the #30for30crafting challenge this month! Week One was in the build-up to Pete's birthday so I couldn't share many of my projects as I went (couldn't ruin the surprise!) so here's a quick summary:

Day 1 was to finish off a point on my spikey spikey crochet (see previous photo). Crochet doesn't quite agree with me and this project is becoming a bit of a drag to finish, but I will get there, eventually.

Day 2 was the day that I discovered the challenge, and the oh-so-inspiring blog of The Crafting Geek. A recent post gave a cute little pattern for an old NES controller. Pete quite likes retro games so I thought this would be a lovely 'little project' to get me started, and I could make it into a birthday card for him. I popped into town for some bits including the black thread I would need, so was quite restricted to just 30 minutes to get started before the Mr got home from work. I nearly completed the box outline. You can see where this is going...

Day 3 and it turned out we had slightly different definitions of a 'little project'! It was the day before Pete's birthday so I had little choice but to spend most of the day sitting and stitching, painfully slowly filling in the colours. A lot of hours (including some overnight after he'd fallen asleep...) this emerged:

Quite pleased overall, despite the lack of sleep! The squareness of the design also gives a very satisfying back:


I downloaded a 'NES' font and printed the 'Happy Birthday' as a template, then used the schoolgirl technique of colouring underneath with a pencil to make my own template. I originally planned to go over this in red but liked the effect of the pencil so left it be.


Day 4: I was shattered after the previous day's stitching exertions, but it was the birthday boy's day and there was baking to be done! I had let slip that I wanted to bake a cake, and pecan pie had been requested. There's a bit of a back-story with that and it's become a traditional Christmas gift(!) but I'm a big softie so it was to be made again. We had a barbeque planned for Friday evening so a more sociable cake would be required for that. So cue another day full of creating, first a very exciting blueberry ring cake, then lots of little pecan pies:

Day 5: You can guess what today required, cake decoration! Here is the finished product, and I am very pleased with it. The greatest praise was that those who tasted it on Friday night came back for seconds.

Day 6 I spent with a group of friends re-painting the set for a children's club I am involved with during term times. I believe some photos were taken, but not by me. It's a bit of a tenuous link to 'craft' as there was very little creative involvement beyond white- and blue-washing some big boards, but it's all preparation for this Saturday which will see the creativity re-injected!

...And since then I've returned to my crocheting. It's painstaking and slow and I have to re-start every point 3 times before I really get going but hopefully I'll have something to show for it by the end of the month. Today is my Day 12 so there is still plenty of time for me!

Now for something completely different...

It's been quite intense over here lately, but as the summer holidays wear on there is very little intense going on in these parts. There should maybe be a bit more intensive house-cleaning... but never mind. I've discovered the world of craft blogs, and it is maybe even more dangerous than community link-ups!

I'm not sure how well I'll fare all through the year, but have decided to join in a project called #30for30crafting, where you simply do something crafty for 30 minutes a day, for 30 days! The idea is to run through August so I'm a little late starting, but did spend a good hour doing some crochet yesterday so I reckon that puts me on Day 2.

I'm quite an ambitious person, and tend to dive straight into a massive project, rather than starting small. The real challenge is to finish. So I think I'll be taking this opportunity to finish some of the big projects I've started, but also try and limit myself to some smaller ones that can be completed in just a couple of days.

It's fun, creating.

Christmas Day in the Trenches {Authentic}

This month, I've been reading lots of stories from people encouraging me to be authentic. Not to put on a face, not to struggle on through, but to let it all hang out. Some of those stories came from people who have learned that lesson, faced up to their demons and now appear to live in a glorious post-authentic world and the freedom that brings. Others are sending dispatches from right in the trenches, putting their words together between battles.

Me? I think I'm at Christmas Day.

The year was 1914, and British and German soldiers had been living, fighting and dying in close proximity to each other for months. However, on the 25th December an unofficial truce was called, and men from both sides came out onto no-mans-land to exchange greetings and have a game of football. A brief respite before the battle raged on.

This is where I am. I've been battling; but now the summer holidays have come and all is quiet. That doesn't mean I don't know that come 26th August the battle will commence again, only I will be a bit more refreshed for the first couple of weeks at least. 

How to answer when people ask how I'm doing? They didn't hear my masked pleas for help in the heat of the battle, when all raged around me and the best answer I could give to that teasing 'how are you?' question was: 'I'm managing.' To say any better would be a bare-faced lie; to go into more detail would risk dissolving into tears, and there's no time for that when the battle's on and there's managing to be done. Now when they ask it's not lying to say 'fine' and that is all they really want to hear.

Some good friends recently discovered that we had been struggling, but it took us until last week to find a time when we all had a simultaneous free evening. Now that it's Christmas and a truce has been called there was less interest in the battle, but we had a lovely evening and were encouraged to let them know whenever we're struggling again. 

How?! When I'm struggling it's because every evening is filled up. We might label one night date night but we spend it crashed in front of a DVD eating takeaway because it's date night so we're allowed to not cook. All the other nights we barter over who will cook, and eating is the only waking activity we do in the house before crashing into bed. We both frequently comment that we have 'finished' at some point during the day, and all the energy was gone. Whilst watching the Tour de France this year we witnessed the same thing happen to some of the cyclists, but they had been riding 100+ miles a day at 30+ mph for a good few days by that time. That's when I thought that maybe we shouldn't be pushing our bodies to the same point of exhaustion quite so frequently. The moments that aren't spent doing are spent crashing. So when am I supposed to go for that coffee to talk it all through? Not until next Christmas, and the battle's paused again by then. 

I have been deliberately vague about what 'the battle' is. I'm trying hard to be authentic, but also honouring. I am not battling against people or groups; rather there are many circumstances that have combined to make life hard work. Pressures, responsibilities, disappointments.

Maybe I'll tell you over a coffee this holiday if you really want to know. 


I'm linking up with sheloves magazine this month, read more from other writers here.

Power in the name

Today I'm joining in with another #SheReadsTruth link-up, about where we take our name from. I've got lots of blog-gy ideas in my head at the moment but never getting time to commit them to paper (or screen!) I have been enjoying reading through Ruth though, and this study has given me plenty of food for thought. Have a look at other people's take on the story here.

I've written before about my own name here. It led me on a path of discovery about who I was and the words that have been spoken over me my whole life, just when people called me by my name.

 

Today I'm going to write instead about the names we dole out to places and communities. I'm a real believer in the power of our spoken word, that what we say can become prophetic into the spiritual realm as well as on an earthly level around us.

 

There is a prophecy in Isaiah:

For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent, and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not be quiet, until her righteousness goes forth as brightness, and her salvation as a burning torch. The nations shall see your righteousness, and all the kings your glory, and you shall be called by a new name that the mouth of the Lord will give. You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of your God. You shall no more be termed Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate, but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her, and your land Married; for the Lord delights in you, and your land shall be married. (Isaiah 62:1-4 ESV)

We used to pray that over my home city of Liverpool. For anyone who doesn't know, Liverpool has somewhat of a dodgy reputation in the UK. Sure we had the Beatles and some good footballers, but we've also had riots, the streets are a bit messy and unemployment has historically been rife. I remember once going to a festival with some workmates from Leeds and camping next to some scousers. They were friendly and immediately I felt more secure in the surroundings. My friends, however, were on edge. 'Make sure you take everything with you, there are scousers in the next tent!' I was shocked and appalled.

 

So we prayed for a new name over our city. We prayed that 'Hope' would be spoken over it, and 
restoration. We asked to be called, 'my delight is in her'.

Do you know, it matters? It matters to people the reputation of where they live. It matters to children the reputation of their high school. What's the point in trying if no-one from your school ever gets anywhere when they leave? A teacher was recently fatally stabbed in a school in Leeds. It is a good school and this was an isolated incident, but as well as the fear the young people (and staff) now face going into school, they are marked by their uniform as 'from the school where that teacher got stabbed.' There's some negative power in hearing that on a regular basis. We have to stand against it.

 

I think we have a responsibility here. We have a responsibility to pray and lift up our neighbourhoods, our communities, our friends and family. But secondly, we have a responsibility to speak new names over those same groups. We can seek the positives and draw them out into the open, we can restore people and places with our words.

“Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover him, and not to hide yourself from your own flesh? Then... your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to dwell in." (Isaiah 58:6, 7, 12 ESV)

The whole chapter is full of hope and new life. Read it. But we are called to be the restorer of streets. We do that with our actions, but also with our words.

What are the positive words that you can speak over the groups and peoples you encounter, that otherwise might only have negative labels?

Commissioned Moments

Today I'm joining up with a community at #SheReadsTruth. We've been challenged to write from the following reflection: 

Why do we live in the tension of worship and doubt that disables us to share the truth of God’s love? 

You and I are commissioned – authorized by God – to “therefore go and make disciples” who will know Him and live for Him. This is a commandment from Jesus.

Lots of other people have also written, have a look at their thoughts here. Here are mine:

Growing up, I learned to worship God in dance. I learned all the theory; what different parts of the body symbolised and how we could move prophetically. I grew up expressing my praise with my whole being.

I grew a bit older and discovered some people found that a bit weird. I learned that my friends and I had been labelled 'the flag girls' and watched more than one less-than-complementary impression of our 'actions'.

Now I'm older still. I've learned that I can praise and worship my God without having to move at all. I can reflect, I can be so full of awe that even to put on that worshipping face is distracting from what is happening on the inside. But sometimes, I just want to dance. I want to use all my limbs, my body, my balance to express my heart. Then I remember about the flag girls and wonder what that person sitting at the back might think.

Last Friday I encountered Jesus in a way I haven't done since I was a child. On Sunday, I burned on the inside with a conviction that I had a God-given dance. Movements rose inside of me that I knew would inspire and lead others. 'Flag girls' shouted from the back of my mind, urging me to cling to dignity. The song rolled on. How could I ask Jesus for a commission if I wouldn't follow such a simple command? How could I take a step of faith at work if I couldn't take a step in front of my family?

Every step to the front felt like lead. Every movement felt shaky. The chorus rose and fell. The verses came around, and that chorus again. My whole life was laid out in that moment, surrendered. All my pride, every promise, everything I knew and didn't know. That was my commissioning moment, a tiny obedience that broke through the lies of the past and fears of the future.

Since then? Life is busy, and normal. There was no bolt from the sky, but a foundation in my heart that I can follow my commission, one step at a time.