Redeeming Love

I want to take you on a little journey and tell you a little story.

For several years, there has been one particular day that I have dreaded each year. Every year, it would be a disaster. It was a day that brought about feelings of rejection, of bitterness, of envy; I would try and would be constantly rebuffed. It would literally always end in tears. Nowadays, I love love. I have seen and tasted of God's amazing love but in the past love had only been unfulfilling. It had always ended in hurt, it had been manipulating and harmful. Too many things had ended this way and it only served to compound the truth in my head: that I would never have a good Valentine's day, that I would never be treated or spoiled and that love was hollow and empty.

Last year, I had no expectation for Valentine's day. Unbeknownst to me, God had expectations. And a plan.  An excerpt from my journal last year:
"I did not know Valentine's day could be good, especially if one is single. I like the culture of Valentine's day here in America. It is not just a day for couples like it is in England, but rather a day to celebrate love. Love between friends, God's love, etc. I really like that." 

Because of this, it was not a day that I could escape, even if I wanted to (which I did!) For a few days in the run up to the day, I received cards, little notes, cookies and chocolates from my friends. It is a day that is celebrated between friends, an excuse to tell someone in your life how much you value them and how glad you are that they are in your life. This I liked, I could cope with this. It wasn't overly romantic, or slushy and didn't make me feel like a failure for being single. I remember feeling quite positive on that morning: I decided I was going to love myself even if no one else was going to love me that day. I made myself heart shaped eggs for breakfast and jollied off to school.

I'm so glad God was not content to leave it like that. He interrupted my world that day and reached in to issues that I thought I had sorted. I walked in to Revival Group (our 'small' groups of 55 that met once a week) and the chairs were all in a circle around the room with a single table in the middle.

"The men (of our group) took time to say how much they value and appreciate us as women. They went around the room and prayed and prophesied over each of us. Collectively they apologised for times in the past when when had wronged us as women, when we had not been treated as God would have us treated. They stood in front of us and stood in the place of those that had hurt us in the past."

Well, as you can imagine with a room full of women, we were all a little teary-eyed after this. They then moved about the room, prophesying and praying for us individually. They brought out a large bucket full of beautiful different coloured roses. Each guy selected a rose and then came and presented this single rose to a girl. At this point, I had my head in my hands and I remember thinking that this just couldn't be real and that I wasn't going to get one. I thought that there wouldn't be enough, that all the other girls would be chosen before me, that I did not deserve a rose. I looked up and kneeling before me was a friend, a man, holding the most exquisite yellow rose. I can not imagine what my face looked like in that moment. I wasn't last, there were enough roses and someone had chosen me. In that moment something broke. I couldn't even look in his sweet face. I buried my face and sobbed and sobbed. It was the noisy, messy crying that you don't ever want to do in public. It was those big sobs that seem to come from your toes. But God was tearing down everything I had ever believed, all the lies that I had built upon and all the wrong that had come against me. Caleb patiently waited. He was not phased; this itself spoke volumes to me. Someone gave me tissues but it was still a long time before I was able to raise my head and look him in the eye. He gave me the rose, at great risk of setting me off again (!) and he prophesied over me. I did not hear a word he said, I am so thankful that someone recorded it on their phone for me!

"After this, the men came and sat on the floor in front of us and asked us collectively if there was anything that they could do for us. A few girls took the microphone and they were mainly thanking and honouring the men for the gifts they had just given us. I felt a burning in my chest and i knew that I had to say something. I spoke and thanked them for re-presenting men to us, to me. I told them that this group of guys were the first guys to show me how life and love should be. I talked frankly about past experiences, how I had never had a good valentine's day, how men had only ever wanted one thing but yet how the men stood in front of me have shown me another way... Things have not been the same since. My standards have been raised considerably. I know now how love looks in the Kingdom and I am unable to settle for any less."

What is also interesting, and something that I didn't even realise until a few weeks later, was a journal entry I made a week prior to this. I was talking to God about being romanced:
"I want to be romanced. With notes and hearts and lace and roses - yes, roses!...I want someone to do these things without ever knowing I want them....But love is painful and the flowers are only for one thing, and then even they stop coming."
When I read back in my journal, I was literally blown away. God had listened to the very things I had said and he had answered a little wish in a way that I could never have expected. Not only did he act on my heart's desire, he rebuilt the foundations of those desires. Instead of being built on false promises and deferred hopes, he built lovingly with truth and hope.

This year, I was not abhorred by the idea of valentine's day. I decided to embrace it. Yes, I am single and yes, I know that I am 'not supposed' to like it as a single person. BAH! I decided that I wanted to begin to change the culture of valentine's day. In the UK, it is a day for couples. I much prefer the American way of thinking: that it is a day of celebrating love, relationships, the people that you value in your life. I decided I was going to fully embrace it! I love gifts and so I decided to pick an ordinary item (mainly food) and make it extraordinary [a few examples below]. I branded each item with a cheesy saying that I managed to back up with a Bible verse and I hit the road. I delivered each item by hand, today. Whilst I was in the process of giving and creating, I was totally hit by the presence of God. I had such a party with him today! I was giving, but I was receiving too. I got to spend time with those I love, I drank plenty of cups of tea, I cuddled my friends' babies, I was giving gifts and surprising people. I literally had every single one of my love languages met today. I partnered with God and he certainly came along for the ride! I know that to change something may seem like a massive impossibility, but I know that to do it you have to start with what is right in front of you. Starting small is better than not starting at all.

However, there are a few undeniable truths:
- I am loved by God
- He will never break his promises
- Nothing is impossible
- My time for marriage will come, but loving those around me is my 'now'

- I will never, ever, ever again have a bad Valentine's day!

Making Home

I am well aware that my last post was about transition and perhaps ‘making home’ is a cliché second post, but it’s what God is doing and saying at the moment. Who said God can’t work in natural progressions too?!

For the longest time I had a perception of what my life would look like. I envisioned finishing school, becoming a nurse, getting married, buying a cute cottage with a porch and a big garden and having babies. Lots of babies. I envisioned being the perfect home-maker, wife and mother. My husband would be well-off – of course – so that I could be a stay-at-home mum and grow my own vegetables, do lots of baking, re-vamp old furniture, have a compost heap and a long line of various sized shoes by the back door. I’ve had these plans since I was tiny: there hasn’t been a time that I haven’t wanted a baby and a family of my own. Of course, at age 10, 24 was positively middle-aged and I was certain that all of the above boxes would be ticked by this age. However, life at 24 is very different than I thought it would be when I was younger. I don’t own a house, I’m not married (not even a boyfriend on the horizon!), I certainly don’t have children. This is not to say I am unhappy. I love my flatmate and the flat I live in is perfect. I have a great job and I still manage to squeeze in baking and crafting.

I have resisted living in this area for a long time, probably for three or more years. When I was doing my nurse training, I was so eager to leave the area. It was far removed from Oxfordshire, far away from my family and I was so keen to move back to where people didn’t have an accent. However, this was not in the master plan. I decided to stay because it was easier to get a job after I qualified and I felt more secure because I knew the area and the hospital. I stayed and told myself it would only be for a year until I could get some experience and then I could move back to the hospital near home. I wasn’t able to call Thanet home. It wasn’t home. It was a temporary means to an end. I mean, I couldn’t meet someone here, certainly didn’t want to settle here and where on earth would my children go to school? (Please excuse my snobbery. I’m just being real: it was definitely there and still surfaces sometimes. I’m only work in progress.) But it was ok, it’s only temporary, right?

I was afraid to get involved in this area. I started going to church and made friends, but I kept myself at a distance with both as I didn’t want to get hurt when I left. I was reluctant to commit to things at church; I didn’t want to serve or become ‘involved’ as it would inevitably create a commitment – no matter how small – and this might mean I got sucked into church and life here. The thought of committing to anything vaguely long-term terrified me. It literally almost made the bile rise in my throat and my heart start to race. When I went to America, I was able to take extended unpaid leave from work which would enable me to come back to the same job when I came back from the States. In my mind, this was my ‘get-out’ clause, my ‘plan B’. I had, in my grand scheme of things, great plans that I would go home after America, live with my parents, get married and commence the above.

However, softly softly, there was a process underway. It happened so gently that I wasn’t really aware of it, not really until I looked back on it all. There was a point in time where one of the jobs on my to-do list was to phone my manager at work to talk about coming back. Even at the time, I thought nothing of it. It was the most natural thing in the world, to want to go back. So I spoke to her and arranged a start date, back in A&E, back in Thanet. I organised accommodation, which has turned out to be an absolutely delightful surprise, so much more amazing than I ever could have orchestrated on my own. Before I knew it, I had moved back, back to a place that in my heart, I had left a year previously with no desire to return. But, He’s not known as Jehovah Sneaky for nothing!

The funny thing about all of this is that all along, I’ve always known that I am in the right place in the right time. When I was in America, I knew without a doubt that I was meant to be there. Coming back to Thanet, and feeling glad about it, I knew I was meant to be here at this time. I’ve just been accepted onto a course to train to become a midwife; the clarity came for this decision whilst in America. The timing was wildly accelerated from my own (humble) plan and the course is happening in this area, so I won’t be going anywhere! It’s fully funded, I am salaried for the whole 18 months and then at the end, I get a payrise! Again, God has gone over and above anything I could dream up or imagine.

At church, I am involved. I am not shy of serving, or of volunteering for things. Previously, I often hid behind the excuse of “I work shifts, not sure I can make it” for church-related commitments and inevitably I would not go. I’m not hiding behind that anymore. Certainly, there are some things I can’t get to, but I've been requesting shifts to enable maximum participation. There have even been occasions where I’ve found out about more and more schools that I would send my children to, and they are in this area!

Recently, after explaining my struggles and reluctance to commit to this area, I was challenged about the concept of ‘making home.’ For me, ‘making home’ has always meant being married, being a wife, looking after all my babies, sewing gorgeous new cushions for the sofa, doing the school run, having a place to call my own that I can open and offer hospitality to others. Every day, I still want these things. I used to thing that only when I had these things, or at very least a house of my own and possibly a husband, could I start to make a home. I felt like I was living temporarily, always on the move (and I have been: 13 addresses in the last 6 years), and that I was never able to settle until I was magically ‘fulfilled’ and got married and bought a house.

For now, that’s not what making home looks like. I have no boxes ticked. My heart and innermost being yearn for all those things and I know that’s ok. But those things don’t make a home. I am a homemaker, and that’s a gift from God. God is in me. Where He is, and where I am, there is home. It has to be. Otherwise I am waiting and wasting time to put roots down, and if I can’t put roots down, then I can’t put roots down into him. Where He is, there is home. And home might look like an area I’m still unsure about living in for the rest of my life, it might look like church and friends that I have to be vulnerable with, it might look like committing, it might look like flat-sharing, it might look like being single. Because where He is, there is home.

So, I know that I need to make home here. I don’t know how long this season is, or what His plans are. I just have to trust that it’ll all be ok. I know from past experience that things often happen quicker and that they always always happen better than I could possibly dream up on my own. So for now, with His help, I am doing my best to make home. And what does that look like? It’s silly things sometimes: like not putting my parent’s address as my mailing address, and other things like giving whole friendship and not holding back lest it should end. It is coming to terms with the fact that I do live here and that this is without a doubt the right place. It’s not trying to put a ‘Best Before’ date on my time here, but just living in the present. It’s definitely knowing where my home is: in Him. All my own ideals would be nothing, not even a home, if He was not there. It’s learning to trust blindly that He has the absolute best for me.

Transition

So, as much as I like reading blogs, I have never been one for 'blogging'; for putting my life so 'out there' in the public domain. But, I struggle to think in my head and thought that this would be a viable outlet for all the conversations I have with myself. Currently, I hope this will be a natural unfolding of life as it happens: of life as I try to be healthy and whole, of life living as a daughter in the kingdom of God and of life that is creative and experimental.

Thank you for reading. 


I have just spent nine months in America, in northern California at Bethel church doing their school of Supernatural Ministry. Whilst it was amazing, incredible, mind-blowing and a whole host of other adjectives you could use to describe it, I feel that now, three and a half months after coming home, I am only just beginning to learn what it was all about. I cannot deny that a lot changed in myself when I was there, but now the bringing of the new self into the old environment is beginning to become a reality... and it's hard! 

It's not the obvious things either. There is a lot I miss about being in America. For example, going to the supermarket to buy popcorn. You ask for popcorn and the lad takes you to the aisle with pre-packed ready-made popcorn. I clarify and ask for the kernels, for the stuff you pop yourself and he leads me to the microwave popcorn in a packet. For the third time I ask and find myself describing the kernels. He doesn't know and has to ask his colleague who looks equally blank. It turns out the supermarket probably doesn't have it, or if they do it's some unknown brand hidden away in some dusty corner. So I miss things like that, things that I have become accustomed to that now I have to re-adjust to. 

I am finding it hard to continue with health-related choices that I made whilst in America. Perhaps because the nation is not a healthier nation, the effort made to be healthier (and therefore not have to pay for healthcare) is more pronounced. I also came to know more fully the absolute truth that my body IS a temple, that I NEED to be a good steward of that which is given to me. I also find that as I press further into the presence of God, I WANT to be healthier and because of these things, I find that my self-esteem is healthier; I love myself better and therefore am able to love others better. So it's complicated and I'm not very good at it! I miss being in a culture that is so health-conscious. I don't know if it was a church-culture thing or whether it was an American thing; the lines between the two are very blurred seeing as my first American experience was a church environment in America! I can't eat gluten anymore - this was a change that I implemented whilst I was in America. Even though it is for health reasons, not just a personal preference, I tell people this, my good friends, and their response is to call me a wierdo. Every day, I'll be offered a cake or a biscuit and I'll decline and say that I can't eat it. People look at me oddly and ask if I'm dieting. I explain why and inevitably I am met with a shrug of the shoulders, a 'what do you eat then?' and an odd look before they walk away. There are a few blogs that I follow and I have also been doing my own research on lifestyles that use food in more of it's natural way, to ensure that nutrient values are preserved as best as possible. It also takes into account how the body was designed and how it best processed food. Personally, I have become better at listening to my body and learning what it needs when (although I am still a long way from perfectly in-tune!) and I really agree with living a simpler, more natural lifestyle. However, I know that as soon as I bring up the topic of health, of eating naturally, of trying to do the best for one's body that I will be sniggered at and probably branded a hippie. Even explaining to a friend the other day why I take various vitamin supplements was awkward as it was clear to see that she thought I was a few sandwiches short of a picnic!

I bought a juicer today. I am so excited about this, it was hugely reduced and I have wanted one for a while. However, I have told no-one except my mum, who shares my values on this. Hopefully I'll introduce my housemate to the juicer and they'll become firm friends. I think it is the open-mindedness that I miss, the attitude that anything is possible, the attitude that live is positive rather than an eternal rat race that has to be endured. 

Watch this space. Gluten free and healthy all the way!