Love’s harder path…. pondering hurt, death and resurrection

I don’t know what to say to you today,

I find that I am having to be honest with myself,

I am not blaming anyone for hurts,

but I am hurt, and cannot deny how I feel,

and I can’t be anything else but hurt,

I have tried, I really have,

but I am still hurt, and this time,

while not sitting and licking my wounds

I am speaking my truth,

I know it isn’t what you want to hear,

I know you think I am being unreasonable,

I know you think you’ve done all that you can,

and you probably have,

but the hurt was caused, and yes maybe I didn’t understand,

but that doesn’t mean I don’t hurt,

so to put on a smile, and pretend all is well is beyond me right now,

maybe, with time and with space I will find myself in a different place,

so please understand that old cliché,

it’s not you, it’s me,

seems to sum it up today, for I am hurt.

and I don’t know what to say to you,

but I don’t want to paper over the cracks this time,

or but a sticking plaster over an open wound,

for healing does not come that way,

healing takes time, and needs space,

and maybe this isn’t the time, place and space to deal with it,

because the reality is, it isn’t going to make any of us feel better,

not really…..

So, maybe we just need to agree to disagree, to respect one another,

and to choose one of love’s harder paths,

embracing the death of what was, is the only way

that resurrection is truly possible….

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one step at a time….

So much more sorting to do,

trying to do a little at a time….

weary, overwhelmed,

more stuff to recycle,

I need to make a trip to the tip,

no energy for lifting things….

like an ostrich I want to stick my head

into the sand, hoping to wake up

the other end, unpacking done,

cats happy,

walking on the beach every day…

but I have to get from here to there,

so I will take things one day at a time,

one step at a time…


but that’s just the physical stuff,

there is also the mental, emotional, spiritual stuff,

am I still called,

I ponder my doubts and fears,

maybe I can toss them into the skip

along with the broken chair and the unwanted wonky bookshelf…


I look at the pictures and cars at the side of my desk,

one reminding me I am worth more than many sparrows,

another stating, all shall be well,

yet another says:

new beginning are often disguised

as painful endings,

Saint Hild holds out her hand and blesses me,

soon I will walk her beaches….

all shall be well,

one day at a time,

one step at a time….

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Expressing hurt….

We’d rather you didn’t express your hurt,

we’d rather you sucked it up,

towed the party line

we’d rather you were nice, like us,

we’ve been busy you see,

organising things,

and making sure we keep the show on the road,

the fact that we left you behind somewhere is sad,

but not really our concern now,

so please leave quietly,

say nice things so we feel better,

and everything looks neat and tidy,

just as it should be,

because we want to retain our nice façade,

it’s what people want, what people need…


well it’s not what I need,

I am hurt and bruised and battered,

my heart aches, and I am worn out,

I have good things to remeber,

people who have supported and listened,

but right now my overriding feeling is hurt,

alienation, being unwanted, and unvalued…

so, please excuse me but I am not longer able

to put on an act, to pretend, to try again to be positive,

or to understand,

of course we may be looking at this

from different vantage points,

you are carrying on,

I have ben left behind…


Please excuse me, but as we part ways,

I feel the need to shake the dust from my feet now,

and today that dust feels more like great clods of dirt….

but I will shake them off anyway..


I hope we can move on feeling lighter,

and process forgiveness as we can,

but today I am expressing my hurt,

because I am hurt,

and my mask of engagement, of being nice

has crumbled away.


I am hurt…

that is my truth…..

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I want to recover my first love,

to be held in a place of peace, of knowing and being known,

no matter what storms surround me,

I want to know deep forgiveness afresh,

to experience the arms of the loving parent,

the one who sees I have come to myself,

and know my need…

and I need to recover a deep love of the harvest fields,

where grain and fruit ripe for picking wait ready for the harvest…


I have so much to lay aside,

how easily vain ambitions can consume me,

how easily I am deflected from the task of love,

from the depth of worship,

from the place of peace, of knowing and being known…


I have much to receive,

a renewed zeal for justice, for hope, a search for kin-dom coming,

on earth as in heaven,

a love of Scripture redefined,

of mind soul and body renewed,

how I long to be held in a place of peace, of knowing and being known…


Loving God, I am coming to myself,

my true self, whole and (w)holy yours ,

and while I have never been any other in your eyes,

I need that place of knowing,

to be held in a place of peace, of knowing and being known,

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death and life….

a seed falls,

giving itself to the ground,

no insisting on clinging to life here,

this is the natural way of things,

only death can bring new life,

the seed lies broken open now,

and the ground embraces it…


but I am not a seed,

how do I embrace this pattern?

I am required to let go?

If so how?

If so what?


I lay these questions as prayers,

still alive, still alive,

how do I die


shall I take the fall,

embrace the earth?

dust I am, to dust I will return,

but will I rise,

is it even my place to ask this?


a seed falls,

giving itself to the ground

no insisting on clinging to life….

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where do they all come from,

I swear they breed in hidden corners,

well, today I am sorting through them, again,

the pile of books not to move is growing larger!

Many haven’t been opened for years,

some are no longer useful,

some are, but I won’t use them,

can a book be no longer useful?

Then novels, novels with enticing covers,

I might read them again I think,

but I know I won’t,

I haven’t read them again yet,

and there is always a new story…


in some ways they have been my comfort blanket,

time to be brave and strip it away,

then of course ministers like to tell everyone how many books they have…

it makes our studies look important,

or maybe just cluttered,

depending on your point of view,

there will be more books,

I know there will,

but for now I am being ruthless with myself…

I may regret it, but I doubt it….

it is a part of letting go,

embracing the new,

one step at a time…


I look at my shelves,

ten more books join the pile…


I may start on my wardrobe next…

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Why did I take so long to get out of bed?

The sun was shining,

it still is, but it was a struggle today…

I haven’t done my usual Tai-Chi rotation,

I am feeling out of sorts,

nothing I can put my finger on,

just out of sorts….

I need to go to the tip,

I have a broken chair and a cat frame to get rid of,

and I keep meaning to sort through my books,


what should stay and what should go?


I meant to change the bedsheets yeaterday,

but I didn’t,

it’s hardly the end of the world,

and why did that just pop into my head anyway….


Where are you Lord in all of this?

I feel like Peter,

I’ve stepped out of the boat and looked around,

now I am sinking,

deep and deeper still…

is my faith too small,

have I got life all wrong?


I’d like to go back to bed….


Instead I will shower,

and get into the day,

or what’s left of it…

I need to eat,

then maybe a walk…

can these be my prayer today?

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It’s NOT a sin!

I have just read Rosie Harpers blog post that challenges the Bishops and Archbishops in the Church of England to speak up, to be open and inclusive of all, and while her blog centres upon the inclusion and celebration of people who identify as LGBTQI+ , she rightly points out that:

I could have written the same article about excluding black people, or disabled people, or people with mental illness, or alas survivors of abuse. There is a long list because in so many areas we still get our sense of identity by who we keep out of the club. We know it’s not right, but somehow we can’t help it!

Somehow we can’t help it, for some reason, when it should be the most welcoming of spaces, the church manages to so often be one of the most unwelcoming of spaces, and that description doesn’t simply apply to the Anglican church, having been a member of several denominations, and a Minister in one for many years now, it never ceases to amaze me who unwelcoming we can be. Oddly, if asked most churches would describe themselves as friendly, open, welcoming and loving, but just ask my friend who’d come to visit me how she felt on being asked to move because she’d sat in someone’s seat, or how about the young couple looking for a church who have visited with their delightful 3 yr. old, who experience shushing and tutting. It breaks my heart that very early in my ministry I was asked by a beautiful lesbian couple if I would baptise their baby, which I was delighted to do, but my church didn’t welcome them! Even though since 1993, our Standing Orders say that we affirm welcome and celebrate the membership and ministry of LGBT+ people, all too often the question is do we?

Last year the Methodist Church in Great Britain, agreed in principle that all of our churches and ministers could take a decision to celebrate same sex marriages on their premises, and that all Ministers could choose by their conscience to do so. Like many I was really pleased to to have that renewed freedom, to say to my friends yes I can preside at your wedding, how wonderful! But, the journey is not over, all over the country Church Councils are making decisions, these follow on from the Synods and the Conference decision taken last year, meetings where all views were shared, and some very moving stories were told, that said, alongside those stories ran the usual arguments about Scripture and tradition, about how there is only one way to read the Bible, and that by failing to read it correctly this heresy had entered our church. Listening to people call you an abomination, and claim that somehow your sin, which is almost always due to somebodies deep interest in your sex life as they imagine it is exhausting.

I was asked in an open meeting whether or not I was afraid of catching a sexually transmitted disease, what my sex life was in the imagination of the questioner was first of all in their mind, open for scrutiny, and questioning, and I think that is because all too often LGBTQI people are reduced in the minds of many to an act of sexual intercourse, as if the way we see the world and how and who we are is somehow reduced to our genitals! If I were promiscuous and openly living a lifestyle that neither contributed to my or anyone’s flourishing then maybe I should be questioned, but I am not, and who I am, as I said yesterday is not a sin! So when somebody speaks of LGBTQI+ people as sinners because of how they identify their personhood, then they are wrong! Being gay, being queer, being a lesbian, being trans, being… you get the picture, is NOT A SIN! it is not a sin…..

Being nasty, backbiting, gossiping, spreading rumours, greed, gluttony, stealing etc, these are sins, but we rarely challenge people on what they spend, and whether the rumour they are spreading is true or not, but an unhealthy interest in the sex lives of LGBTQI+ people is thought to be legitimate and an open topic for debate, even though there is so much more to us and our relationships than sex, just as there is in any other relationship. Charlie Bell, in his book Queer Holiness puts this so well, stating that the problem comes when people daren’t use the term gay, or queer etc:

The Moniker “same sex attraction” in itself raises some significant questions, and amongst these is where the focus is during conversations on LGBTQI people. For those who cannot bring themselves to use the word gay same sex attraction is a helpful phrase because it ultimately instrumentalises, and turns acts of homosexuality into the key feature, rather than, more properly seeing them as an embodied outward flowing of relational interconnectivity that is at the heart of healthy human flourishing.

Healthy human flourishing, surely that is what we should all desire for one another, that is what Jesus came to lead us into, and the church should be a place that enables and releases that flourishing, and yet all too often we stifle it, making pronouncements on who people are and how they should behave, making demands on unreasonable standards of behaviour and codes of dress, and somehow neglecting to see that over and over again Jesus reached out to, and actively sought out people on the margins, not in order to change them so that they fitted in with the requirements of the religious elite, he broke the so called religious codes, touching dead bodies, lepers, and commending a menstruating woman for her faith when the law would have declared her unclean. The gospel he lived and taught was so much wider, and more expansive and welcoming than many of our churches are, he pushed the boundaries and tore down the barricades that kept the apparently unworthy in their place, challenging as it is, or may be, this is what the church should look like, it should look like Jesus!

So, when a friend calls me because of the nastiness meted out on his loved one by a grumpy church council, or a church member feels like they can’t tell their church friends that their beautiful child is gay or tans for fear of judgement, then I think we need to thing again about how we define sin, as Richard Coles rightly stated:

….it is “depressing” that, while the football world was evolving, “the Church of England – an organisation committed to celebrating love and decency and dignity – finds itself unable to do so when people are of the same sex”.

He has become much more outspoken in retirement, but the truth is that he and his partner David were hurt by the church , a church that judged their relationship as not equal and demanded celibacy of them. Unlike Coles, I am free to marry and enjoy a fully expressed relationship if I so wish, but there are places and spaces where I must ask if I am safe, and then decide whether to come out or not, if I do then I run the risk of criticism and even abuse, certainly verbal abuse, if I don’t then I am constantly hiding a part of myself. I have been asked why I feel so strongly when I am single and need say nothing at all, my response goes back to Charlie Bell’s assertion, that there is so much more to being gay than a sexual act, I think we see the world differently, usually from the margins, and certainly from the place of exclusion, even when if asked a church group would call themselves inclusive.

So many things that are not sins are seen as sins, we need to change our language, and seek to see differently, if for nothing else than for the people who have been hurt, and will be hurt, for the families who have lost a loved child, or sibling to suicide because they have been called unacceptable. To partially quote Rosie Harper; the majority … know what is the right, faithful, gospel-led thing to do, but remain silent….the way we exclude people is the primary cause for the collapse of numbers. Not the language we use or the music we play, but the way the Church spits out the people we love.

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Being reconciled to myself

I look in the mirror, who is this woman looking back at me, where have the wrinkles come from, when I am brave I look in a full length mirror, a few years ago I put a huge amount of energy into loosing weight, and I did, I lost 3 stone. Now I have put weight on again, a couple of years of battling illness and mental health issues have taken their toll. I am tempted to judge myself, how could I have let myself go again, why do I stress eat, why don’t I have the energy to get out every day, why don’t I eat more healthily?

Alongside the voice of condemnation in my head I also hear another quieter voice, it whispers this; you have been through a hard time, physically and emotionally, and let’s face it spiritually and mentally too. You found the pandemic really isolating, sending hours on your own, and mostly when you could you did get out and walk. You have tried to eat healthily, but finding comfort in comfort food when all else seems difficult is not a crime, so don’t beat yourself up. Come on, you spent a couple of weeks plus in hospital, you haven’t been well. Dare I remind you you aren’t well yet, that’s why you take a tablet every morning, why you are trying to eat well so your gallbladder doesn’t flare up. Oh and while I am at it, every morning you do your Tai-Chi rotation, and sometimes you manage and evening rotation too.

Of course the voice of condemnation tends to be louder, more insistent and demanding, reminding me that to be acceptable I mustn’t be overweight, I should try harder.

But, why do I need to be slim to be acceptable? Why do we continually congratulate people for loosing weight and criticise those who struggle? This has been a struggle for me all my life, as a child I was called chubby, when I look at photos I wasn’t not really, I wasn’t stick thin, but I was definitely fit, I swam every day, and I was a good swimmer, at the age of 10 I was swimming 100 lengths in training sessions. But, I thought I was fat, it is what I was told. I carried that into my teenage years, I wasn’t fat at all then, but I was tall, too tall in my mind, and I have big bones, yes big bones are a thing, I felt conspicuous, too much, taking up too much space! Women are meant to be dainty, well that’s what I thought, and of course that was echoed in the awful teen magazines that I loved so much!

In recent years I don’t mind being tall, though it is still difficult to buy trousers and jeans etc, but that notion of being too much still hangs over me, and the weight issue follows me. I know I can diet again, but right now I don’t have the energy, and that’s not me being lazy, it is a statement of fact.

Alongside all of the physical stuff runs the mental health stuff, and of course they overlap because we are interconnected beings, but it all begins to fall down when I place the crazy demands and values onto God, expecting to be judged, to be criticised, to be … well honestly I don’t know what I expect. I am always telling people that they are fearfully and wonderfully made, I remind myself that this body has carried 6 children, even 2 at once! That I am still a good swimmer, that I have climbed many peaks over the last few years, and that the fact that I heal if I cut myself, and heal from diseases and even operations is remarkable, I am a wonder, we all are. I remind myself that this mind, this soul has suffered many challenges and griefs, and is almost always in a process of healing and reconciliation , and I reflect that maybe that is what the journey of discipleship is all about. Paul points to this work as a ministry in 2 Corinthians 5:

16 From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we no longer know him in that way. 17 So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; look, new things have come into being! 18 All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; 19 that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself,] not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. 20 So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ: be reconciled to God. 

What if we could look at ourselves then and see what God sees, not being bothered about wrinkles of the numbers on a scale, but see something remarkable and wonderful, someone with huge potential still to be fulfilled, no matter how old we are. What if we made it our task to affirm others for their God given, God created unique amazingness! A conversation yesterday alerted me to this, why do we concentrate so much on sin, on judging, not only ourselves but others, why is the grace of God apparently withheld until people fit in. Of course we are not able to withhold the grace of God, but sometimes our ways of living and being convey that message. Today I am challenged, because while I rarely , I say rarely, because I have my own prejudices, treat others in that way, I am quite likely to treat myself in that way, and that is not healthy for me in mind, body or spirit.

Perhaps I need a new God-filtered mirror, a mirror that enables me to see myself differently, to forgive and love myself in a healing way, I am pretty convinced that this would make my message more authentic, how can I say that all are included, and I will be when I have healed a bit more, got fitter, lost weight, sorted out my prayer life and or my bank balance…

The of course there are things I don’t need to be healed from, my conversation yesterday took an expected- yes expected, not unexpected turn at one point, when the phrase “but we are all sinners” was used, I’ve heard that so many times, it often runs alongside “love the sinner hate the sin”, but we were talking about sexuality, and particularly the inclusion of LGBTQI people. It wasn’t malicious, it was in many senses a slip pf the tongue because were were on the same page in our interaction. But. here’s the thing, my sexuality nor your sexuality is not a sin, it is who I am in Christ as much as the rest of me is in Christ. The God-filtered mirror is very clear about that!

I suspect that discipleship is an ongoing ministry of reconciliation, reconciliation with God includes reconciliation with one another and ourselves, and it can be a rocky, twisty path, but definitely one worth following. The best bit is, we do not walk alone.

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The plane….

The plane did not leave,

and many heave a sigh of relief,

and yet futures for those aboard,

and many more

still hang in the balance,

others are deciding their fate,

some for them,

some against them,

the vulnerable become more vulnerable,

the place of safety,

the place of hope,

has become a place of horror,

and exclusion,

where treated as little more than criminals

the traumatised are re-traumatised….


Who will answer for this?

Who will cry out

for the voiceless?

We give thanks for those who have,

who care,

and yet many of us feel useless

in the face of a seemingly compassionless regime,

does it care about you and me,

how can it when it treats the vulnerable so badly…


I will cry out,

speak out,


I will refuse to be silent,

even when I feel silenced,

I will cry for mercy,

seek justice,

support those working where I can,

I cannot put myself into the shoes of those still waiting,

but I will cry out,

speak out,


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